|courtesy of t-shirtguru.com|
So spoke my son when he unwrapped the Popeye shirt my parents had given him. Only four-years-old “all his life” had not been a very long time but his grandparents certainly enjoyed his enthusiasm. They’d always been creative gift-givers. Almost ten years earlier they’d given me a present that I’d also been wanting all my life. Well, at least since the Six Day War five years earlier. In 1972, at the age of eighteen, they presented me with a trip to Israel.
It was a seven-week vacation filled with travelling and hiking, sightseeing and working, learning and growing. During the last couple of days the organizers decided it was time for some serious workshops. Although usually a good student, I cannot tell you anything about those sessions except that I was hot and tired and more focused on buying presents to take home than anything the lecturers were telling me. What I do remember was the trip to Jericho we took at the end. The goal of that outing, I assume, was to illustrate some of the many facts we’d been presented with.