Grateful for the Little Things

As I was coming home from university today, I took the opportunity to look around my neighborhood and consider myself lucky. Although I am 10 minutes walk from the hustle and bustle of main street Kfar Saba (i.e. Weizman Street) my hood feels far removed from all of that balagan.

I live in one of several apartment buildings that encircle a small park/playground with some of the loveliest and tallest trees in Kfar Saba. During this time of year there is a certain tree that bursts into purple blossoms (I wish I knew what it was called!) so parts of the park are splashed with this vibrant color. In the mornings and afternoons you can hear clear, melodious bird calls. As afternoon becomes evening and on Saturdays, the park rings with voices of children and parents. One of the best parts about this apartment is that it affords a view of all of this local, quiet beauty so I never feel far from nature and community.

Whoever decided on the street where my apartment resides couldn’t have picked a better name. It’s Hashalom, and shalom, as you probably know, means peace.

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