It is a long time ago, our honeymoon. One week "in Yerushalayim," during which the following two salient, uncharacteristic, encounters happened.
We came out of Ben Gurion Airport, and there came a secular Israeli, in his twenties. He asked us where we were going. We planned to go to a hotel in Tel Aviv. He knew the way, he said, and accompanied us, for no apparent reason, all the way to the hotel, by bus. I asked him why he gave us this welcome. He answered that he would want the same if he came to a foreign land. He said goodbye at the hotel and he left.
Later in the week we were sitting on a bench on Har Herzl in Yerushalayim. There came a Charedi Israeli, also in his twenties. He came to sit next to us, next to my wife to be precise. Yes, a Charedi, next to my wife, on Har Herzl. Then this man blessed us, that we would have many children. And he left us, wondering. At his leaving, I asked for his name. He said his name was Eli.
