Jerusalem

Two Yiddish-speaking Bluenosers

Writer Adina Horwich only met Yehuda Miklaf and his wife Maurene in Jerusalem, even though both Adina and Yehuda are from Nova Scotia. (photo by Adina Horwich)

So, this guy walks into my Yiddish group one fine Sunday in Jerusalem – this is not the beginning of a joke. In the group, we welcome anyone who is into Yiddish, with any background, and, on that day, Yehuda was introduced to us. We went around the room asking him questions. I asked where he hailed from. Little could I have anticipated his answer: Nova Scotia.

“I don’t believe it!” I said. “So do I!” Then, “From where, exactly?”

“Annapolis Valley.”

“Oh,” I paused, thinking to myself, I’d be hard-pressed to find any Jews there.

Later, Yehuda’s story was revealed when the teacher matched us up to work together.

Yehuda, an Esperanto speaker and aficionado, has only recently started to learn Yiddish, while I have been at it for 15 years. I started off with little but the smattering I heard as a child. Yehuda happened upon it by the by, via a friend in the hand-printing scene, where he is an active, prominent member. With the characteristic zeal that he tackles so many projects, and lots of gumption, he has taken to Yiddish very well.

The sight and sound of us two old-time Bluenosers (nickname for Nova Scotians) hacking a chainik in Yiddish, is too precious. But, most of all, I like when Yehuda slips into the down-home accent I grew up with. That is when I really kvell.

Né Seamas Brian McClafferty, Yehuda was born in the mid-1940s to a father with Irish roots and a mother with origins in Quebec. The youngest of eight, he had an idyllic childhood, as a small-town Catholic youngster in Annapolis Royal, which today has a population of only 530.

In his last year of high school, Yehuda attended a Fransciscan seminary in upstate New York, his first foray away from home. With his fellow students, he passed a building with Hebrew letters, which intrigued him. A friend he asked about these unfamiliar markings promptly replied: “That’s just Hebrew.” Yehuda had never seen, much less met, any Jews.

He completed his last year of high school and then spent a year of silence and meditation at the novitiate in the Adirondacks. The following year, he furthered his studies towards the priesthood, commencing a rigorous and intense program that sounds like a yeshiva govoha (Torah academy of higher learning).

Discipline and training, mostly in silence, hours of meditation and living under austere conditions, Yehuda carried on through to the second of four years. He heard a lecture about the Torah, which was demonstrated by a small model scroll, and delved deeply from then on, backed by the church’s ecumenical approach of spirituality and faith. He availed himself of the library to his heart’s content and took to reading the Hebrew Bible over and over again. He didn’t know it at the time, but his first steps towards life as an Orthodox Jew were taken, while he was encouraged to become a scholar of the “Old Testament.”

Over the four years of study, Yehuda began to have rather different ideas about how he wanted to live his life.

Returning to Canada in the mid-1960s, he spent time in Toronto and in Nova Scotia, taking road trips home to tend to his father who had taken ill. Things grew clearer.

Yehuda absorbed every mention of things Jewish. It was an emotional attachment. In 1966, after having left Christianity, he discussed his evolving beliefs with a Jewish friend, who said: “You sound more Jewish than me. I’m surprised that you haven’t converted.”

The conversion process was long but not arduous. Yehuda took a class in Toronto and eventually went to the mikvah.

He and his wife Maurene – who he met through his roommate in Toronto – visited Israel, as tourists, for an extended vacation. They had not intended to make aliyah, but, smitten with Israel, as so many of us are, did so three years later.

After making aliyah, Yehuda had to “rinse and repeat,” so to speak, as often happens with conversion. Israeli rabbinic courts do not automatically accept even the most stringent diaspora Orthodox ones, and Yehuda had to go through it again, studying for a year and then going to the mikvah. The converting rabbi gave him the option of choosing a name and Yehuda suited him, since that’s where the word Jew comes from. Miklaf (literally, “from parchment”) was a good abbreviation of McClafferty, he thought, and could not have been more fitting for his chosen profession of printer and bookbinder.

Like most new immigrants at the time, they started out at an absorption centre and had a routine klita (absorption/integration), including Hebrew language studies at ulpan. Maurene got a job in high-tech and Yehuda opened a studio. He started out by binding the original of David Moss’s My Haggadah: The Book of Freedom, and branched out into printing.

The couple attends an Ashkenazi shul but try not to be pigeonholed as being from one background (Sephardi or Ashkenazi). Early on, Yehuda tasted some traditional Ashkenazi delicacies and learned how to make potato kugel, for which he’s now famous, along with kneidlach.

Yehuda still has two siblings in Nova Scotia and visits his longtime friends in Annapolis Royal.

Our paths from the Atlantic led us to meet in Jerusalem, where we raised our families. The Miklafs have two children and several grandkids. Their daughter was a high school friend of my daughter’s, and both women have been living in the same community, and they see each other now and again.

Ma’aseh avot siman l’banim – the deeds of the fathers are a sign for the children – or, in this case, Ma’aseh horim siman l’banot, the deeds of the parents are a sign for the daughters.

Adina Horwich was born in Israel to Canadian parents. In 1960, the family returned to Canada, first living in Halifax, then in a Montreal suburb. In 1975, at age 17, Horwich made aliyah, and has lived mostly in the Jerusalem area. She won a Rockower Award for journalistic excellence in covering Zionism, aliyah and Israel for her article “Immigration challenges.”

Ex-pats make good in Israel

Former Montrealers Shmarya and Lainie Richler opened their first Muffin Boutique in Jerusalem in 2014; their second, in 2023. (photo by Adina Horwich)

My interview with Muffin Boutique owners Lainie and Shmarya Richler took place on the afternoon following the US airstrike on Fordow and other Iranian nuclear facilities. It was 2 o’clock on Sunday and the couple took time out from their breathlessly busy schedule to sit with me at their Talpiot location, minutes from Haas Promenade, aka Tayelet Armon Hanetziv, in Jerusalem.

I have been coming to this coffee shop almost every Tuesday afternoon for almost a year. As a participant in the Anglo Women’s group, which was initially supported by the local community centre, we are encouraged to meet and eat. Facilitated by Helena Flusfeder and Rachel Beenstock, we enjoy a hot or cold beverage, salad, bagel with a variety of spreads, a slice of cake or a muffin, good company and laughs. Another of the members is native Montrealer Paula Dubrow, Lainie’s mother.

photo - A Canadian flag flies beside the province of Quebec’s fleur-de-lis — A Canadian flag flies beside the province of Quebec’s fleur-de-lis. *(photo by Adina Horwich)*

The café, which has indoor and outdoor seating for about 30 people, was busy, while the rest of the city felt deserted. I introduced myself, sharing my own Montreal experiences as an adolescent from 1969 to 1975. While the younger Richlers used to live in the very Jewish neighbourhoods of Côte Saint-Luc and adjacent Hampstead, I had lived in the suburbs, with a much smaller Jewish presence.

Shmarya hails from the large and prominent Richler family, most famous of whom was his first cousin, author Mordecai Richler. Shmarya’s mother, a survivor from Hungary, immigrated after the Second World War. Lainie’s paternal grandmother was English, as was my paternal grandfather.

We discussed their decision to make aliyah. It was always in the cards, they said, both having been raised in Modern Orthodox and Zionist homes. They studied at Jewish day schools and attended Tifereth Beth David Jerusalem Synagogue in Montreal. As teens, both were active in the Bnei Akiva youth movement, which is where they met and later started dating. Lainie studied and completed a master’s in psychology, while Shmarya majored in commerce. They married and had three children.

In 1995, they moved to Israel, living at first in Beit Shemesh, later and currently, in Efrat. Two more children were born here.

Lainie had intended to work in her field, but, as is wont to happen for immigrants to many countries, ran into the profession’s licensing body demands that, for her credentials to be recognized, she would need to take further studies. Since Lainie was trying to acclimatize to life’s challenges with a newborn, she preferred to shift her focus to that and raising the other children.

She became involved in various exercise classes, giving them at community centres and other venues around Gush Etzion. Nutrition was a subject that had captured her interest, too, so she delved into that, taking a training course and becoming a certified alternative nutrition counselor.

Shmarya worked at first for a foreign company, then at a few Israeli startups, in high-tech, but the sector was continually growing and the jobs became increasingly demanding.

Needing to support a family of five kids, while coping with the everyday adjustments of aliyah, the couple began to wonder what to do. Their vision for retirement had been to run a B & B in the Galil or Golan. They thought, why not bring that idea forward, adapting it to their current situation.

Friends and family were skeptical, saying they were unrealistic, out of their depth; many a naysayer told them it would never work. But Lainie was determined to give it a go. She had always loved baking and cooking, informally making and selling muffins to friends and neighbours. She improved by testing many a recipe and soliciting feedback.

Shmarya was reluctant at first, but soon agreed. He took a government-sponsored course at MATI (Jerusalem Business Development Centre), which trains and assists people interested in starting a small business. He was mentored by someone who took a serious interest and fully backed the couple’s plans, believing they could and would succeed.

photo - A Quebec licence plate – sporting the Quebecois nationalist slogan “Je me souviens” (“I remember”) – is prominently displayed behind the counter — A Quebec licence plate – sporting the Quebecois nationalist slogan “Je me souviens” (“I remember”) – is prominently displayed behind the counter. (photo by Adina Horwich)

Their first shop opened in 2014 on Jerusalem’s fashionable and ever-popular Ben Yehuda Street, a key menu component being Montreal-style bagels. And the store is replete with Canadiana. A Quebec licence plate – sporting the Quebecois nationalist slogan “Je me souviens” (“I remember”) – is prominently displayed behind the counter. It brings a half-smile to my face.

The second location, where I was conducting my interview, opened nearly two years ago. Scheduled to open Oct. 10, 2023, just days after the tragic events of Oct. 7, the opening was delayed – but only by a couple of weeks. When the doors opened on Oct. 23, the Richlers could barely keep up with the crowds. Locals warmly welcomed a chance to reaffirm their lives.

Ever since, this has been the local go-to café – the place is open 11 hours a day. Behind the register, a Canadian flag flies beside the province of Quebec’s fleur-de-lis.

photo - Both Muffin Boutiques prominently features the Richlers’ Canadian roots — Both Muffin Boutiques prominently features the Richlers’ Canadian roots. *(photo by Adina Horwich)*

Shmarya runs between the two branches, overseeing operations, keeping an eye on inventory, dealing with suppliers, expenses and all matters related to the running of the business.

Lainie is in charge of getting the daily, on-site baking up and running, with the help of a dedicated and hardworking staff. The restaurant serves coffee and breakfast from 8 a.m., while also accepting orders from their dairy menu for events, be they an office party or a family simcha. This aspect of the business comprises some 30% of its income. Everything is prepared fresh daily, using only natural ingredients, under Lainie’s expert watch and Badatz Mehadarin hechser (kosher certification).

Many employees have worked at both of the locations, most are native or near-native English speakers. This is vital, as the clientele is largely Anglo olim (immigrants).

Every effort is made to maintain a family atmosphere – two of the Richlers’ children regularly work the counter – with friendly, personal service.

When you come to Jerusalem, do pay a visit to the Muffin Boutique, either at 16 Ben Yehuda or 13 Daniel Yanovsky, and have a nosh. Tell them Adina sent you!

Jerusalem a multifaceted hub

Jerusalem Mayor Moshe Lion, left, speaks with Rabbi Jonathan Infeld on June 9. (photo by Pat Johnson)

Against the backdrop of regional and global challenges, Mayor Moshe Lion of Jerusalem brought a message of resilience, innovation and unity to Vancouver this month during a community event co-hosted by Congregation Beth Israel, the Jerusalem Foundation and Canadian Friends of the Hebrew University.

Now in his second term as mayor of Jerusalem, Lion spoke about his vision for one of the world’s most complex and sacred cities. His priorities, he said, include improving the quality of life for all residents, expanding affordable housing, creating economic opportunities, and reinforcing Jerusalem’s role as a city that belongs not just to its citizens but to all people of faith and conscience.

“Jerusalem is not just a city for Jerusalemites,” the mayor told an audience at Beth Israel June 9. “It is the capital of the Jewish people. It belongs to every Jew in the world – and it welcomes people of all backgrounds.”

With nearly one million residents – one-third secular and religious Jews, one-third ultra-Orthodox, and one-third Muslim – Jerusalem is not an easy place to govern, Lion acknowledged.

“Every day is different. Every day brings new challenges,” he said. “But I wake up every morning and say thank you to God for the privilege of being the mayor of Jerusalem.”

A certified public accountant and former chair of Israel Railways and the Jerusalem Development Authority, Lion acknowledges the differences among his population but said he strives to represent all.

“I am the mayor of everyone,” he emphasized. “I don’t agree with everyone, but I must care for them.”

That approach was tested acutely after Oct. 7, 2023, as the entire country reeled from the Hamas terror attacks. Lion acted swiftly to prevent similar violence in Jerusalem.

“My first thought was: how do I make sure that Gaza doesn’t happen in Jerusalem?” he recalled. “And I’m proud to say that despite tensions, we did it. We stayed united. We kept the city peaceful.”

Now, Lion said, he and his administration are focused on building on a 3,000-year foundation.

“The focus is on the future, education, economic opportunity, culture, innovation,” he said. “With the Jerusalem Foundation, we are creating a city where young couples, young families, dreamers and builders can thrive.”

The mayor’s visit to Vancouver coincides with the 100th anniversary of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, founded by such visionaries as Albert Einstein, Martin Buber and Sigmund Freud. Today, its three campuses serve more than 24,000 students from diverse backgrounds – Jewish, Arab, Druze, Christian, religious, secular, immigrant and local – studying side-by-side, noted Dina Wachtel, vice-president, community affairs, Canadian Friends of the Hebrew University, who emceed the evening’s event.

Lion highlighted the strong partnership between the university and the municipality, including the construction of new buildings, and the development of employment opportunities and research programs.

While some associate Jerusalem with prayer and problematic politics, the mayor wants people to think of it as a dynamic hub of science, culture and coexistence. Lion would like to see Jerusalem become one of Israel’s numerous high-tech hubs.

“It takes time because we have to develop it,” he said, “but we are doing it with Hebrew University.”

Projects like the Bloomfield Science Museum, the Jerusalem Botanical Gardens, and the Hebrew University Youth Division for the Advancement of Science are touching lives in both East and West Jerusalem, he said.

One standout initiative, Sahi, targets youth at risk. Teen volunteers identify families in need and then participate in programs that assist them anonymously.

“These are the young people who will shape the next Jerusalem,” Lion said. “We are investing in education, in culture, in the power of everyday kindness.”

Lion outlined ambitious infrastructure goals, including high-rise housing to prevent suburban sprawl, expanded light rail networks, and preservation of Jerusalem’s cherished green spaces. Under his leadership, annual housing unit construction has jumped from 2,000 to more than 7,500.

“Jerusalem is undergoing an evolution,” he said. “We are building not just a city, but a future – one where Jews, Muslims and Christians all have a place to thrive.”

From the revitalization of Mahane Yehuda Market – once limited to produce stands by day but now with restaurants and social life at night – to cutting-edge healthcare and high-tech campuses, Lion sees Jerusalem as Israel’s next great engine of opportunity.

Beth Israel’s Rabbi Jonathan Infeld interviewed the mayor and posed the historical question: “If you could sit with King David, Jerusalem’s first Jewish mayor, what would you say?”

“I would ask him – are you satisfied?” Lion replied. “After 3,000 years, is this what you hoped for?” He paused. “And I think he would say yes. Jerusalem is a complicated city, but it is united, it is strong, and it is ours.”

The mayor urged anyone considering making aliyah – or who knows anyone pondering the move – to choose Jerusalem as their destination.

The evening featured remarks from Joel Reitman, president and chair of the Jerusalem Foundation of Canada, and Arik Grebelsky, president of the Jerusalem Foundation. Both highlighted Canada’s deep and ongoing investment in Jerusalem’s development and social fabric, including projects that encourage academic excellence, youth empowerment and cross-cultural partnerships.

Reitman lauded Hebrew University’s role not only investing in academic excellence but in helping shape the city’s economic and civic trajectory, and spoke of the contributions made by the Jerusalem Foundation, which was founded in 1966 by the legendary, longtime mayor of the city, Teddy Kolek.

“Together, we are creating a Jerusalem that is smart, inclusive and prepared for the future,” hsaid.

While Grebelsky was in town in his capacity with the Jerusalem Foundation, he could not resist noting another connection. He is the third-generation proprietor of the company that provided the wall of Jerusalem stone behind the Beth Israel bimah, in front of which the speakers sat.

Reitman and Grebelsky traveled with the mayor on a cross-Canada tour that began in Toronto and carried on to Calgary after the Vancouver stop.

Diversity as strength

Jerusalem Mayor Moshe Lion speaks in Vancouver on June 9. (photo from CFHU)

Moshe Lion, mayor of Jerusalem, will be in Vancouver June 9 and Calgary June 11 for a special series of events organized by the Jerusalem Foundation of Canada in collaboration with the Canadian Friends of the Hebrew University (CFHU). The visit marks an opportunity to strengthen ties between Jerusalem and Canadian communities, and to highlight the transformative work taking place in Israel’s capital through the power of education, innovation and philanthropy.

Lion was elected the 10th mayor of Jerusalem in 2018 and reelected for his second term in 2024. The city council under his leadership is a united coalition with no opposition – an unusual and uncommon achievement.

Lion has played a pivotal role in expanding Jerusalem’s infrastructure, cultural institutions and global partnerships. His visit here will offer guests the chance to hear firsthand about the city’s challenges, its remarkable diversity and its bold vision for the future.

Joining him will be Arik Grebelsky, president of the Jerusalem Foundation in Israel, and Canadian and Israeli leaders, including Joel Reitman, chair of the Jerusalem Foundation of Canada.

At the heart of this visit is the unique partnership between the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and the Jerusalem Foundation – two pillars of the city’s intellectual and civic life. Together, they are investing in projects that elevate academic excellence, empower underserved communities, and position Jerusalem as a global city of knowledge and inclusion.

The Vancouver and Calgary events will bring together philanthropists, community leaders and alumni to celebrate this shared mission. With Hebrew University celebrating its 100th anniversary this year, the visit underscores the enduring ties between Canada and Jerusalem – and the power of education to shape a brighter future. To register, go to cfhu.org/upcoming-events.

– Courtesy Canadian Friends of the Hebrew University

Risk … game vs. reality

Playing the game of Risk. (photo © Jorge Royan)

I’ve always thought of the Nordic region as peaceful. Admittedly, my knowledge of the area is largely limited to Risk, the board game, where Greenland, Iceland and the Scandinavian countries are considered a haven, free of imminent attack from the throw of a dice.

Well, Finland just purchased Israel’s David’s Sling defensive system. For $345 million US. It was one of Finland’s first moves after recently being accepted into the North Atlantic Treaty Organization. And it was the first sale abroad for David’s Sling, an integrated part of Israel’s multi-tier missile defence system. Israel now carries the title of major supplier to NATO.

I guess the world’s a bit more complicated than Risk.

***

So long, Noa Tishby, the Israeli performer appointed by our previous prime minister, Yari Lapid, to advocate for Israel through her strong social media presence. With the formal and former title of special envoy for combating antisemitism and delegitimization of Israel – fit that onto a business card! – she was known for sparring with BDS advocate Bella Hadid and others. Tishby was also a vocal supporter of Israel’s anti-judicial reform movement. Giving voice to the many thousands protesting the current government and its extreme shift rightward and into sometimes theocratic territory, Tishby says this was the reason for her dismissal. Well, ya. As the hawkish Jerusalem Post editorialist Ruthi Blum noted, “Tisbhy is free to share [her opinion]. But she shouldn’t have expected the government she’s been bashing to keep her as a representative.” Well, no. But keep on truckin’ Noa Tishby.

BTW, Tishby will be a guest at the JNF Negev event in Vancouver on June 29.

***

Israel’s Tel Aviv Museum of Art is again among the world’s 100 most visited museums. This according to international art magazine The Art Newspaper. TAMA was ranked 49th in 2022, a jump from its 56th place the year prior. I am fortunate to be one of those visitors, on multiple occasions, over the past many years, often dragging my two children there when they were younger – how fun was that!

Paris’s Louvre and the Vatican Museum took first and second place, respectively. Canada was represented with a 60th place win by Toronto’s Royal Ontario Museum.

***

Congratulations Milk & Honey, Israel’s preeminent whisky distiller, awarded the 2023 world’s best single malt whisky by the World Drink’s Awards for its Elements, Sherry Cask drink. Described as “[f]ruity aromas of citrus zest and white peach with a dash of wood varnish. Sweet to the taste … with flavours of golden syrup, vanilla, tropical fruit and iced tea.…” Sounds like a palate pleaser to me. But, if I had to choose, my favourite would be Seagram’s Five Star rye whisky. Not so much for its taste but for fond memories of fighting with my siblings for the silver sheriff’s star glued to the bottles.

***

Jerusalem was selected by Time magazine as one of the world’s 2023 top 50 destinations, holding the 48th spot. It’s one of my favourite places to visit on a bustling Friday, starting with a walk through the overcrowded neighbourhood of Mea She’arim and enjoying a freshly baked challah. Then, bargaining my way through the Old City’s Arab Market, its tastes, smells and sights, and eventually making my way to the Western Wall, with the golden Dome of the Rock overhead. Ending with lunch at Machane Yehuda, the popular central Jerusalem food market, which has the freshest of meats and vegetables, and many colourful stalls.

Not to be outdone, Canada held two spots. Churchill was third – can’t beat those Northern Light spectaculars. Vancouver was 38th, for its eclectic cuisine and the beautiful Stanley Park.

***

For sure, difficult days in Israel. Sociopolitical cultures are clashing internally. External enemies are looking on with glee, and testing us. But we’re not sinking into despair. Israel has experienced difficult times before and emerged stronger and wiser. So it will be this time.

Arguably, we are being governed by the worst government in our short history – for many reasons, including recent security challenges. I mean, come on, with someone as inexperienced and reactionary as Itamar Ben-Gvir as national internal security minister. Or Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich spouting off on things about which he should know better and doesn’t. But let’s not blame the victims for the terror and rockets. Hezbollah, Hamas, Iran, an inept Palestinian leadership with a hateful street – they are to blame, not the government.

Usually, it’s the right-wing governments that muster support for the very difficult realpolitik choices, from Menachem Begin’s 1982 Sinai exit to Ariel Sharon’s 2005 Gaza disengagement. Even Binyamin Netanyahu’s 2021 peace deals with several Arab countries under the Abraham Accords. Unfortunately, Netanyahu’s current government may be too inexperienced and messianic to enable reasonable, democratic, liberal change – read judicial reform – at such a scale. But who knows.

We cannot despair. At a very esoteric level, Israelis have hope. In fact, hope is the theme of our national anthem, Hatikvah, The Hope.

***

According to the World Happiness Report, published by the Sustainable Development Solutions Network, Israel remains one of the happiest countries in the world. (See jewishindependent.ca/measuring-happiness.) Rising to fourth place in 2023, just behind Finland, Denmark and Iceland, Israel’s showing likely reflected its reputation as a “villa in the jungle,” as dubbed by former prime minister Ehud Barak – despite being in the Middle East, one of the most contentious spots … on the Risk board.

Bruce Brown is a Canadian and an Israeli. He made aliyah … a long time ago. He works in Israel’s high-tech sector by day and, in spurts, is a somewhat inspired writer by night. Brown is the winner of the 2019 AJPA Rockower Award for excellence in writing, and wrote the 1998 satire An Israeli is…. Brown reflects on life in Israel – political, social, economic and personal.

Creating opportunities

The Jerusalem Business Development Centre (MATI) helps people create or expand businesses in Jerusalem. Two leaders of the Israeli organization visit Vancouver on May 11 as part of a Canadian tour. (photo from CFHU Vancouver)

Every year, the Jerusalem Business Development Centre, known in Hebrew by the acronym MATI, helps thousands of people create or expand businesses in Jerusalem. It does this through a range of services – from personal mentoring to training in various fields to the granting of loans – focusing its efforts on new immigrants, the ultra-Orthodox and residents of East Jerusalem.

On May 11, as part of a Canadian tour, Michal Shaul Vulej, deputy chief executive officer of MATI, and Reham Abu Snineh, MATI’s East Jerusalem manager, will be in Vancouver for “a conversation about shared living in Jerusalem, about mentoring and creating entrepreneurial opportunities for women and promoting diversity as strength.”

Abu Snineh joined MATI in 2011, as a project coordinator for a program to promote women’s entrepreneurship in East Jerusalem. Today, she heads the East Jerusalem branch, leading a team of seven employees.

“The beginning was challenging,” she told the Independent. “The decision to join an Israeli organization was inconceivable. I was afraid of the reactions and criticism of those around me. It also took me awhile to get comfortable with the staff. In addition, I did not speak Hebrew. I grew up in East Jerusalem and studied for my law degree and, later, further degrees in Jordan. All of my studies were in Arabic and I had never considered working with an Israeli organization. I realized that, if I ever wanted to really be able to help my community, I had to find a way to move forward and, over time, things settled down and today I feel completely part of the team.”

For Abu Snineh, it’s the social impact of MATI that most excites her – “The feeling that I am helping people in a difficult socioeconomic situation; helping individuals, families and women to improve their economic situation in general.”

For Shaul Vulej, it’s the “combination of social welfare and the entrepreneurship and business development – the stories of the women who manage to start a business, make a living and be financially independent, and even employ other women.”

MATI measures success by the number of participants, the number of businesses that develop, the number of businesses that expand and the number of new jobs that are created in Jerusalem because of its activities. All MATI’s programs include participant feedback, an annual review and an evaluation process.

Abu Snineh and Shaul Vulej shared one of MATI’s success stories with the Independent, that of Hiba, a fashion design instructor. They said Hiba, 36, grew up in East Jerusalem in a traditional Muslim family and was married at age 16. Despite various factors hindering her progress, she studied fashion design and proceeded to hold several jobs. She wanted to establish a sewing and fashion design school, so she joined some of MATI’s programs: the business establishment and management course, a digital marketing workshop and, recently, a program for import/export from Turkey, which will allow her to import fabrics herself. Together with her artisan husband, she rented an apartment and currently trains several groups, as part of a professional training project for teenagers, and promotes her business.

About 60% of MATI’s clientele are women, who have a range of educational backgrounds. The organization focuses on residents of East Jerusalem who are looking for employment, people who want to start a business, and existing business owners who need assistance to take the next step.

Abu Snineh described some of the challenges people living in East Jerusalem face. Difficulty communicating in Hebrew contributes to a “difficulty in being able to develop entrepreneurship and businesses that can be relevant also in Western Jerusalem, a barrier in the ability to market and sell goods and services to the Hebrew-speaking public, a barrier in dialogue with institutions and authorities in the business framework.”

A lack of trust in the Israeli government system, which does not recognize many of the East Jerusalem businesses as legal entities, has “created a situation where legal business owners in the country received grants, [while] many of the businesses in East Jerusalem (mainly small and medium-sized ones) were left without the financial security granted to others,” said Abu Snineh.

Other factors include the political and security situation, digital barriers that make it difficult to market outside of East Jerusalem or online, insufficient knowledge about business laws, “which blocks the ability to make the business legal and granting rights alongside obligations,” and “a lack of domestic and foreign tourism.”

When asked how Vancouverites could help or participate in MATI, Abu Snineh and Shaul Vulej said, “To help us establish the first hub in East Jerusalem…. A hub would provide the appropriate and technology atmosphere similar to other areas in the world.”

Also needed, they said, is support for “all the ongoing programs that provide for the progress of Arab society in East Jerusalem” and for “a program for the advancement of women in East Jerusalem.”

The May 11 event is presented by the Jerusalem Foundation in partnership with Canadian Friends of Hebrew University, and it is sponsored by the Asper Foundation, as well as the Canadian Memorial United Church. It takes place at the Canadian Memorial Centre for Peace, 1825 West 16th Ave., starting at 7 p.m. To reserve a spot, visit cfhu.org/upcoming-events or call 604-257-5133.

Battling over-diagnosis

Dr. Shoshana Levin Fox’s An Autism Casebook for Parents and Practitioners: The Child Behind the Symptomswill hold you spellbound. Section I is titled “Children.” These first eight chapters are the stories of Jack, Sasha, Annie and others (all the children’s names used are pseudonyms) – children who came into the Feuerstein Institute after having been diagnosed as autistic. They exited with new hope, not only for themselves, but for their parents, who needed their own emotional propping up.

Levin Fox is a psychologist and play therapist who has worked with children for more than 30 years. In addition to lecturing and giving workshops in North America, Israel and Europe, she worked for 25 years in the Feuerstein Institute of Jerusalem, founded by the late Sorbonne-educated Prof. Reuven Feuerstein.

Levin Fox lived for nearly 20 years in Canada. She completed a master’s at Simon Fraser University and a doctorate in counseling psychology at the University of British Columbia. She worked for many years as a counselor in the Special Services to Children and Families program of the Association of Neighbourhood Houses of British Columbia. Levin Fox was awarded a Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada post-doctoral fellowship, which enabled her to do research and practical work in the field of autism at the Feuerstein Institute. Coincidentally, for many years, Hadassah-WIZO Canada were prime funders of the institute’s programs related to autism.

I recommend the book, not just for the moving stories of the children who were saved from what proved to be inaccurate assessments, and not only for the intriguing descriptions of the practices of the Feuerstein Institute, which Levin Fox combined with the DIRFloortime method. This book should be read for its critical message to parents who have received an autism diagnosis – or one of learning disabilities, ADHD, or other emotional, cognitive or developmental challenges – for their son or daughter: Believe in your child. Talk to your child. Keep looking till you find her the best and most appropriate help and hope. Don’t let the “experts” get you down, because a true expert will find the formula to lift you – and your child – up.

The idea of plasticity of the brain, writes Levin Fox, entered mainstream medicine several generations after Feuerstein had intuited and created materials and methods based on that reality. Levin Fox decries the fact that “the diagnosis of autism is used as a sacrosanct truism…. I have found that the term ‘autism,’ as it appears commonly in the field, in actuality is being used to describe children who suffer from a vast range of communication difficulties, from extreme shyness to psychotic conditions and just about everything in between.”

The children whose stories are recounted in this book all made significant progress. Levin Fox writes, “Not every child began to speak fluently, to learn at a normative level and to play happily with friends…. However, it can be safely and honestly stated that, inspired and mentored by the professor, my colleagues and I made a huge difference in the lives of hundreds of children originally thought to be autistic.” She sees them, as a team, as having saved many lives.

Feuerstein sought to find a child’s latent strengths, and what he called “islets of normalcy.” Levin Fox explains that “islets of normalcy” include, among other elements, eye contact, human relationships, symbolic play, curiosity, humour and more.” She emphasizes that helping parents understand their children’s challenges, and not to be fearful and depressed about them, is part of the battle.

In Part II, “Theoretical Groundings,” Levin Fox gives the intense and thorough theoretical background to the success stories, which are plentiful. Six more case studies are interwoven in the text to help bring the theory alive.

This section also describes the roots of Feuerstein’s methods. He began by working with orphan children who had been traumatized after the Second World War, decided there were flaws in the standard diagnostic tests and, rather than focusing on performance, he focused on the child’s ability to develop learning processes.

“Current studies on brain plasticity … scientifically substantiates what [Feuerstein] proposed two generations ago – that brain cells are modifiable and respond to the stimuli of the environment,” writes Levin Fox.

One of my favourite stories is in Chapter 15, where Levin Fox talks about Ben, whom she first met when he was 5 years old. The end of the chapter, with the sub-heading, “Ben’s Epilogue,” describes a chance meeting between Levin Fox and Ben’s parents, many years later, at an airport. “Dr. Shoshana!” they called out, and his mother pulled out her cellphone. “The happy faces of Ben and his wife, holding their newborn son, smiled back at me,” writes Levin Fox. “For Ben, the paradigm-shift had indeed been life-saving.”

I found other words to describe the journeys and miracles of the children portrayed in this book: life-affirming.

And hope.

Toby Klein Greenwald is an award-winning journalist, educational theatre director, teacher and the editor-in-chief of wholefamily.com. A longer version of this article appears at jewishlink.news/features/47241-the-child-behind-the-diagnosis and elsewhere online.

Immigration challenges

Adi Barokas and her husband Barak during their time in Vancouver. (photo from Adi Barokas)

I read a review in an Israeli newspaper of Adi Barokas’ Hebrew-language graphic novel, the title of which translates as The Journey to the Best Place on Earth (and Back). I also read a scathing review of that review on the JI website, written by Roni Rachmani, an Israeli who lives in Vancouver. Disturbed by several aspects of the criticism, I decided to look into the book – and its author and illustrator – myself.

When I made aliyah from Canada in 1975, I had many difficulties acclimatizing to Israel. In reading Adi’s book, it was as though she had written the book I’d always wanted to write about Israel. Her experiences in Canada, which took place three decades after mine in Israel, were decidedly similar.

Aliyah is often thought of as a lofty, spiritual ascent, but, in a practical sense, it is effectively like immigrating to any other country. In the euphoria and joy of making the huge leap, this can be overlooked.

Decades before the internet, cellphones, Skype and WhatsApp, I left my home and family, strongly motivated by Zionist ideals, conveyed to me by my parents’ Israel experience of the 1950s. I longed to live a fuller Jewish life and take part in the developing history of Am Yisrael. Wrapped in a fuzzy cloak of enthusiasm, naïve and wholly unfamiliar with Israeli society, things turned out to be very different than the utopian image I’d envisioned. However, nearly half a century later, I am still grateful to be here.

Adi and her husband Barak met in the mid-2000s. Shortly after they married, Barak was called up to serve in the Second Lebanon War. They wanted to live in a quiet, peaceful society where they could just pursue their lives and careers, so they headed to Vancouver, which is often billed as one of the best places in the world to live. Unfortunately, they met with many unexpected challenges, mostly related to cultural differences. They tried to feel like they belonged, but never overcame feeling like foreigners.

For me, the in-your-face abrasiveness for which Israelis are known was an enormous shock to my more reserved, polite system. In Vancouver, Adi found those Canadian-associated traits off-putting and two-faced.

Adi and Barak were seeking a breather, serenity and space from the intense pace of life in densely populated Israel. With excessively high expectations that everything would be just so, they came to Vancouver. But for them, too, the culture shock was huge. They were not accustomed to so many rigid rules and regulations.

Adi had never lived in such a diverse society and was excited to interact with people of many ethnicities from around the world. It took a long time to catch on to the nuances, the nonverbal cues, of how people in Vancouver socialize – what topics are off limits, for example. Coming from Israel, a very liberal place, where most people freely express their unsolicited opinions, this was challenging.

Adi and Barak found it odd that everything was so quiet and calm in Vancouver. They were used to a lively, noisy society where people mix in close proximity. In Vancouver, everywhere they went, voices were barely audible and, so, they gradually adjusted and lowered their own tone of voice, and limited their conversations to certain topics.

The couple were eager to socialize, especially with their fellow foreign colleagues, with whom they felt more affinity than with Canadians. They initiated get-togethers, extended invitations, but they found everything so formal and stilted and rarely reciprocated. The only safe subjects of conversation were about hockey or the weather, nothing the couple felt was deep or of substance. This hampered their forming close friendships. Their sense of strangeness, that they would never fit in, grew.

On the flipside, schooled in the notion of appropriate table talk in Canada, I would often feel embarrassed at subjects discussed so frankly in Israel. It felt like an infringement on private matters, mostly with regards to money and personal relationships.

In Israel, people stand far less on ceremony, tell others to drop by any time, and mean it. But, to me, these invitations seemed an empty manner of speech. In Hebrew, the word for “to drop by” (tikfetzi) and a less polite version of “buzz off” (tikfetzi li) are the same!

I was baffled when people would ask why I’d come to Israel. It’s obvious to anyone imbued with Zionist and Jewish values that aliyah is a natural step, that Israel is the place to build a future. But, instead of words of praise or encouragement, Israeli peers, if they showed any interest at all, found it amusing that anyone would leave what they assumed was the easy life, to come to what was a troubled society. There was certainly no welcome wagon, no grace period to acclimatize. There were few invitations for holidays or Shabbat. The workplace, where I was often the only non-Israeli, was an even rougher scene – I wasn’t aware of how critical having connections really is, of how offices and organizations operated.

image - The Journey to the Best Place on Earth (and Back) book cover — The Journey to the Best Place on Earth (and Back) was written and illustrated by Adi Barokas.

Across the ocean, Adi and Barak arrived with several science degrees under their belts, and had to swim the stormy seas of academic life in a B.C. university. There was some discrepancy between how they saw themselves – as conveying constructive criticism – and what some of their colleagues and acquaintances shared with them. This created awkward misunderstandings, a lack of candid communication and obstacles to their ability to settle in.

The couple had to wade through seemingly endless red tape through bureaucracy channels. They found it infuriating to jump hoops with indifferent, intransigent civil servants, who never saw them as individuals.

I can completely relate, as I have had to navigate mountains of paperwork, all in Hebrew, which, when I first arrived, was at an afternoon Hebrew school level. English was not widely spoken, and clerks lacked any service orientation – there was scarcely any eye contact. I miss even a perfunctory exchange of pleasantries, which, in Israel, is considered a waste of words. But Israel has come a long way and there is a marked improvement; as well, much can be done online. That’s not to say everyone is pleasant, but at least civil.

Barak and Adi became increasingly frustrated in Vancouver and it began to affect their mental and physical health. They became discouraged, falling into despondency, and their lives were out of their control. Under steadily increased pressure, their goals seemed to be slipping from their grasp, yet they were obligated to stick it out. They would have loved to have returned to Israel much sooner, but honoured their academic commitments, which were critical to enabling Barak to advance in his career in cancer research. Competition is fierce in academia but, eventually, Barak was offered a position at Ben-Gurion University, for which they are grateful.

Adi asked me why I stay in Israel. The answer is that, despite not knowing the ropes initially, having had to master Hebrew and the Middle Eastern mentality, the reasons for coming remain steadfast: unwavering belief in Zionist ideology and the privilege of fulfilling the mitzvah of settling in Eretz Yisrael. Still reserved and well-mannered at my core, I can and will tell someone off in Hebrew if they cut in front of me in line. And driving has forced me to become assertive.

Life in Israel has made me resilient, not automatically accepting of everything that’s dished out, and no longer complacent. My children and grandchildren have none of my social concerns and are rarely bothered by the things that irk me. They do recognize and understand that it hasn’t been a walk in the park for me. They greatly benefit from knowing English, which I spoke at home to my kids and which I also speak with my grandchildren.

Distance has impacted relationships with my relatives, who are all in Canada, and I miss them. But, in Canada, families commonly live far apart and visit only a few times a year. That’s just the norm and how I grew up, too. In Israel, we belong to a close-knit clan, with whom we celebrate holidays and other occasions; regularly helping one another is everything here.

Living in Vancouver, Adi was frustrated by the positive-thinking approach that was all the rage, but didn’t work for her. She needed to be able to share her concerns openly. She wanted practical advice, instead of being brushed off all the time, with people either trying to divert her attention or change the subject. At least the experience forced her to become more self-reliant.

Adi began to delve into other areas beyond academia, having been turned off the sciences for good. She tapped into her creative side, got her driver’s licence, went swimming, started writing. Both she and Barak took up yoga and meditation.

Adi sought therapy and finally found a therapist who was helpful, which contributed to Adi’s bouncing back from within. Time spent in nature, and developing her writing and artistic skills, offered solace.

It was during this process of self-discovery and self-care that the couple decided to start a family, and they had a son.

When an offer came for Barak to take up a post in Leicester, England, it meant once again picking up and leaving, and having to learn their way around a new place. But, it appealed to them, as Leicester was off the beaten track and the small city ambience appealed to them. As well, the move brought them closer to home. Instead of the 10-hour time difference, they were only two hours behind Israel time-wise and a five-hour flight away.

Outside Israel, Jews tend to belong to communities where they gather to share religious and cultural activities and strengthen their bond with Israel. For me, coming to Israel to live in a predominantly Jewish society was enlightening, yet it wasn’t easy to understand the many different customs. I enjoy the Jewish character and vibe of Israel in many facets of the public sphere. Life revolves largely around the Jewish calendar, especially the celebration of Shabbat and festivals. What binds us is our unique, incredible history and heritage.

Had I been better prepared, come with more defined goals, and more socialized in a Jewish environment, I might have fared better. Even when the going was rough, returning was never an option, however. I am living a meaningful life in Israel, where I have mostly resided in the Jerusalem area.

We have all witnessed Israel evolve into a modern, advanced country, making huge strides in every realm imaginable. On occasional visits to Canada, I enjoy the familiar scenery, the cold, the language and pleasantries, though a noticeably different mindset from the locals is apparent.

Immigration is a tremendous and profoundly complex undertaking. It entails much uncertainty and many twists and turns. No matter how much any immigrant plans, one never knows how things will unfold. It is an arduous process that demands full commitment with every fibre of one’s mind, body and soul. Fellow ex-pats can only offer so much support and help. The individual immigrating has to go through the process on their own terms.

Adi and Barak have since returned to Israel. Over a total of eight years away, they learned a great deal about themselves, individually and as a couple. Growing up in Israel, they naturally identified as Israelis, their Jewish identity cultural. While abroad, they realized that they were viewed by others not only as Israelis, but as Jewish, as a minority. This heightened their awareness, added a new dimension.

Time away has changed them, considerably, and they returned to a somewhat changed Israel. They have settled on a kibbutz 20 minutes from Be’er Sheva, where they and their now two children enjoy spectacular scenery in the Negev, a warm climate and a caring community. They have found their home right here, at home.

Mufti house to be shul

Hajj Amin al-Husseini’s mansion turned into the Shepherd Hotel for a period of time. (photo from Daniel Luria)

Hajj Amin al-Husseini, the mufti of Jerusalem in the 1920s and 1930s, who spent much of the Second World War in Berlin as a Nazi collaborator and war criminal, must be spinning in his grave in Beirut. The landmark mansion he built 88 years ago in affluent Sheikh Jarrah, between the Old City and Mount Scopus, is slated to become a synagogue in a future 56-apartment Jewish neighbourhood in east Jerusalem.

The 500-square-metre manor house, called Qasr al-Mufti (the Mufti’s Palace) in Arabic, today stands derelict at the centre of a largely completed 28-apartment complex which itself lacks an occupancy permit. The reason the new neighbourhood is not being finished – and indeed has not been marketed in the 10 years since demolition and construction began – is that the developers have applied to rezone the 5.2-dunam site to double the number of units to 56, according to Daniel Luria, a spokesman for Ateret Cohanim, which backs the housing project.

Luria was unclear when the rezoning application would be approved. The historic house at the core of the site will be preserved and repurposed for communal needs, including a synagogue and perhaps a daycare centre, he said.

“There is a beautiful poetic justice when you see the house of Hajj Amin al-Husseini crumbling down,” said Luria.

Though al-Husseini built the mansion, he never lived in it. Following the outbreak in 1936 of the Arab Revolt against the British Mandate government, the mufti became a fugitive, hiding in the Old City’s Haram ash-Sharif. When the British attempted to arrest him in 1937, he fled Palestine and the British made do with confiscating his property. The al-Husseini clan owned numerous properties in Jerusalem, among them the Palace Hotel (today the Waldorf Astoria), the Orient House and the villa subsequently turned into the Shepherd Hotel in Sheikh Jarrah on a plot of land known as Karam al-Mufti (the Mufti’s Vineyard), named for al-Husseini.

Among those who did occupy the mansion was his secretary George Antonius (1891-1942), who wrote The Arab Awakening while living there, in 1938. Antonius’s widow, Katy, continued living in the building, which functioned as a salon where wealthy Palestinian Arabs and British officials socialized. (The city’s British sports club had a “No Natives” policy.)

At one of her elegant soirées in 1946, she met Sir Evelyn Barker. The much-decorated general was commanding officer of the British forces in Palestine and Trans-Jordan from 1946 to 1947. The two carried on an affair and exchanged Judeophobic love letters. In April 1947, he wrote her about Jews: “Yes, I loathe the lot – whether they be Zionists or not. Why should we be afraid of saying we hate them. It’s time this damned race knew what we think of them – loathsome people.”

photo - Hajj Amin al-Husseini’s mansion in the Sheikh Jarrah neighbourhood circa 1938 — Hajj Amin al-Husseini’s mansion in the Sheikh Jarrah neighbourhood circa 1938. *(photo from Daniel Luria)*

On April 13, 1948, both Scottish Highlanders garrisoned at the mansion and other British troops stationed at the nearby Police Academy failed to intervene for eight hours when a convoy of doctors and nurses headed to Hadassah Hospital came under fire from Arab guerillas. Seventy-eight Jews, many doctors and nurses, died in the massacre.

Following the War of Independence, the al-Husseini mansion became the Shepherd Hotel in the now-divided and impoverished city. It was eclipsed by the Hotel Jerusalem Intercontinental, today called the Seven Arches, which opened on the Mount of Olives in 1964. After the Six Day War in 1967, when Israel conquered and annexed east Jerusalem, the hotel was taken over by the custodian of absentee property.

In 1985, it was sold to C and M Properties Ltd., owned by Florida bingo hall billionaire Irving Moskowitz (1928-2016), the benefactor of right-wing Israeli settler groups intent on housing Jews in the eastern side of the now united city. Following the zoning of Plan 2591, a request was made on Nov. 6, 2008, to permit the company to build two new residential blocks, including 28 apartments on top of an underground parking lot. In January 2011, the four-storey Shepherd Hotel annex – added on to the mufti’s original mansion – was demolished to make way for the future housing.

Rather than attempt to rezone the site – which adjoins the British consulate – for a higher density at the beginning of the redevelopment process, it was decided to build what was legally permitted and later apply to amend the zoning, Luria explained.

“Ateret Cohanim is not involved in the building project but we have an interest in strengthening Jewish roots in and around the Old City,” he said.

Gil Zohar is a writer and tour guide in Jerusalem.

Beauty of quilting tradition

One of Shlomit Etzion’s handcrafted quilts. (photo by Nir Falay)

Despite being generally considered the cradle of ancient civilizations and the source of the world’s monotheistic religions, the Middle East region is not known for its quilting. Yet, even in Jerusalem, you will find dedicated quilters.

Quilting is the process of sewing two or more pieces of fabric together to make a thicker padded material. Quilting is done all over the world, from Europe to America, to Southern Asia. While we don’t know its origins, we do know that, for many years, people quilted their clothes. Moreover – despite the Middle East not being recognized for its quilting – the earliest piece of quilted garment comes from the figure of a Pharaoh, dating to around 3400 BC, the period of ancient Egypt’s First Dynasty.

Shlomit Etzion, a Jerusalem resident since birth, said she has always worked with her hands. Her mother encouraged her to do handcrafts and she recalls that she started with embroidery. For a time, Shlomit considered going to a high school where she could pursue that, but decided not to go that route. In the end, she began quilting after she finished her university degree.

What would compel someone to begin quilting? For Shlomit, it was the beauty of traditional quilts. She likes Amish quilts and has even visited Amish quilters. She also likes the quilts of Native Americans. That is not to say, however, that she does art quilt, which employs both modern and traditional quilting techniques to create art objects. An art quilt is an original exploration of a concept or idea rather than the handing down of a pattern. It experiments with textile manipulation, colour, texture and/or a diversity of mixed media. Since this is not the type of work she creates, Shlomit describes herself as a traditionalist who uses traditional patterns as a jumping off point.

(As an aside, there are a number of quilt patterns based on the Hebrew Bible. They include Jacob’s Ladder, the Children of Israel, Joseph’s Coat of Many Colours and the Star of Goshen.)

In the beginning, Shlomit worked using scraps from old clothes and sewing by hand, just as was originally done in the United States. But now she buys her material, because it offers her more choices. She only uses cotton, as she likes the feel of it. When she visits the United States, she always goes to fabric stores to shop for material. However, there are now a few stores in Jerusalem that have a good cloth selection.

Shlomit uses a Bernina quilting machine, but there is a lot of picking of materials, measuring, pinning and cutting to do by hand. To secure her pieced top, the insulating fabric and the backing fabric, she brings her materials to a woman with a long-arm machine. Amazing as this may sound, Shlomit pointed out that nowadays, instead of sewing, some people even glue their pieces together.

photo - A handcrafted quilt by Shlomit Etzion — A handcrafted quilt by Shlomit Etzion. *(photo by Nir Falay)*

In her work, Shlomit often uses the nine-patch on point (consisting of nine evenly sized blocks stitched together). However, she has also made stunning quilts using the jelly roll pattern – for which the fabric is pre-cut and you can use a simple sewing method to put it together – and the log cabin pattern. In log cabin quilts, there is a repeated single block pattern of light and dark fabric strips that represent the walls of a log cabin; a centre patch, often of red cloth, represents the hearth or fire. Other geometric shapes such as trapezoids or right-angle triangles might appear in her quilts.

Shlomit likes fall colours the best – oranges, tans, brown shades. Because she is a red head, for a period of time she steered away from greens and blues. As a child, she had been pushed to wear those colours.

Life in general inspires her art, and living in Jerusalem plays a role, she said.

She derives tremendous joy from quilting, she added. She can sit for a whole day doing it. She enjoys not just the sewing, but also the technical work. She probably has 50 to 60 completed quilts at home, she said.

In Israel, unfortunately, people are not very interested in paying the price that quilt handwork commands, so her sales have covered the cost of her supplies, but not the hours she has spent making the quilts.

She prefers to work alone, but, when quilting meetings are held in Jerusalem, she joins the group. The Jerusalem quilting group is not formally active, though. Members seem to get together most regularly when they have an exhibit for which to prepare. While some readers may have seen movies or read books – such as Margaret Atwood’s Alias Grace or Whitney Otto’s How to Make an American Quilt – in which people attend quilting bees, working on the same quilt, this does not happen in Jerusalem. Like many groups, the Jerusalem quilters have met less often because of COVID-19 concerns.

Even though they aren’t an active group per se, the Jerusalem quilters have had some lovely exhibits at the International Convention Centre, the Jerusalem Theatre, the YMCA and the Mormon College. (See israelquilt.com/en/quilting-groups for more information.) Shlomit herself has exhibited in the United States and in the United Kingdom.

I suspect this quote about quilts originally targeted the receiver, rather than the giver: “Blankets wrap you in warmth, quilts wrap you in love.” In Shlomit’s case, however, the physical making of the quilt is a form of love.

Deborah Rubin Fields is an Israel-based features writer. She is also the author of Take a Peek Inside: A Child’s Guide to Radiology Exams, published in English, Hebrew and Arabic.