But I Could be Killed
better out there
In the early 2000s, smack-dab in the middle of the Intifada, our 9 year old daughter and I were invited to join a small group of women traveling to Israel. The idea was unnerving.
“I’ll ask my husband,” I responded (because I thought it to be the quickest and best way to nip a bad idea in the bud). But, no.
“Oh, yes! You must go,” he exclaimed. Dang.
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