Walking in My Ancestor's Footsteps

This past week will stay with me as one of my most significant moments at Muss. On Tuesday, our first tiyul day of the week, we had “Oct. 7 Day,” when we went to Sderot and the Nova Festival Memorial. Stepping into that space, hearing a survivor’s story, and walking past each memory stone carried a weight and an influence I can’t fully put into words. Each tribute was a life, and standing there surrounded by the memory of the deceased made it impossible to think of it as just history. It was real people, real loss, and I felt that truth in a way I’m certain I’ve never had before.

On Thursday, the other day of the week we had a tiyul, we traveled to the City of David and walked through the ancient water tunnel. It was dark and narrow, and I felt a mix of nerves and awe, knowing I was in the same passage that had been used thousands of years ago to keep Jerusalem alive. When we came out at the mikvah where pilgrims had at one point purified themselves before heading into the Temple, it struck me deeply. The idea of people going straight from the water to prayer, preparing themselves before stepping into something holy, really stayed with me. It honestly felt like more than just a ritual. It felt like strength. In that moment, the past that we’re learning about and the present we’re learning in came together. And for me, it didn’t feel like I was just visiting a historical site. It felt like I had stepped, even briefly, into their world.