Forty-seven years ago I came to Israel for the first time. My seven-week tour kept me busy with museums, hikes, holy sites, swimming, working on a kibbutz, tourist stores, and attractions. During my free time I met distant relatives and hung out with friends from other groups. I had a wonderful time but the thought of Aliyah didn’t seriously enter my lexicon.
Two years later I returned, this time with my husband, for three months. Most of that time was spent on a kibbutz but we managed to get some sightseeing in. Once again moving to Israel wasn’t part of our vision for the future. Eight years later that all changed.