Where the Desert Meets the Sea

by Werner Sonne

Every mile closer to Jerusalem brought memories that Judith resisted. Memories of Uncle Albert, of death, of disillusionment, of her attempt to put an end to her life. But was that fair? she wondered. Didn’t the city also represent compassion and hope for her? What about Nurse Hana and Tamar Schiff? She had lost her uncle, but hadn’t she also found her brother? And why did Jews and Arabs alike have to create so many myths and such outcry over Jerusalem? No one on the kibbutz was very religious, but when it came to the historic capital, not one of them was willing to give it all up. One evening, as they sat around the fire, discussing how much the city meant for the future Jewish state, Moshe had even pulled out the Torah and flipped to Psalm 137:5, where the children of Israel bemoan their suffering in Babylonian captivity: “If I forget you, Jerusalem, let my right hand wither away”—it was the Zionists’ battle cry. “Here, it says it right here.” Moshe continued quoting: “May my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth if I do not remember you, if I do not make Jerusalem my chief joy.” Curious, Judith read the psalm later, and was startled by what followed: “Daughter of Babylon, you destroyer, blessed shall be the one who repays you for what you have done to us! Blessed shall be the one who takes your small children and smashes them against the rocks!” All of this spun through her head as the truck made its way through the Jordan Valley. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth—that’s...