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Who Am I?

Somewhere, in the piles of bureacratic papers they handed us at Ben Gurion Airport last December, they must have hidden a green thumb.

For how else can I explain this new found commitment I have to what can only be characterized as…gardening? It’s clearly a bi-product of my Aliyah, this tender love and compassion for the newly sprouting and already rooted life in my yard.

My pre-Aliyah thumb was as black as black could be. I snubbed my thumb at greenery. I kept it safe and warm inside. My thumb knew only the tappity tap of the keyboard, whether it was the one on my laptop or the one on my Blackberry. My pre-Aliyah thumb did not know dirt; was not trained in carefully measuring the pressure placed on the nozzle of the garden hose; did not suffer the wounds of thorns.

My thumb…and I…wonder, “Who are we?”

Now we both suffer when we realize we’ve forgotten to water the plants. And we both yearn to be outside playing in the yard, rather than typing on a computer.

And we’re both, thumb and I, enjoying the fruits of our labor, and marveling at our transformation.

Growing fruit, veggies and art
 
 
 
 
 
 
Passionfruit vine spreading love
 
 
 
 
If you can't find 'em, grow 'em
 
 
Clementines are ready to pick

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