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When my kids eat pomegranate seeds, they describe how each seed sprays juice in their mouths, and how each one tastes so different. when my dad peels the pomegranate and separates the seeds, he sits on the couch and there are 20 pomegranates from my grandma’s tree on the coffee table and a big glass…

I am not special. Somewhere, there is someone who looks  just like me. In a far away country there is someone who laughs like me. In a big crowded city there is for sure a woman who thinks like me. In a place that I’ve never been before there is a human being who believes,…

One Israeli was waiting to cross a big street in a very big city One big city in a big country holds big hearts from far away homes. One lady, far from her home, elegant and beautiful saw a fish in the sky. As she was laughing she pointed out the fish in the clouds…

Every Friday  I knead the dough for the Challah (a sweet bread we eat every Friday). These few moments are dedicated to my savta (grandmother) Rachel. She died 7 years ago. I don’t have a memory of her out side of her house. Most of my memories of her are in her kitchen. Small round…

Tall plants are in my garden; they don’t seem to grow any taller. Garlic, a masculine plant, a lover, brings flowers to welcome the tomato. He remembers her red, shiny and round so ready … he remembers her from the end of last summer. Right now, he is fully grown. She is still small and…

Blocks on the river Flouting, trying to stop the current. No one can see them but my kids. There are lots of blocks and my kids carry each one to the shore. It is hard work, the blocks are heavy . They are magic ones, heavy but can flout. on the shore they are building…

My heart became my drawer. my eyes became my camera. As I look, I describe as if I wrote it  on the walls of my heart. So I will never forget. Sometimes tears are my ink source and my heart beats are the rhythm of my song. Sometimes silence is the picture I never took.…

I struggle with this blog thing. I have 50 pages that have been erased.   I’m not sure which language to write in, because even for the word language I had to look up the correct spelling. As you can tell by now, I chose English. My heart is divided to so many pieces, not broken. It’s…