Jerusalem never forgot her people

There is no where in the world like Jerusalem.

No city as enduring, as eternal, as hypnotic as the holy city.

People from all over flock to see her in her glory- to visit ancient stones, and taste the freshness of life, to offer one's prayers and feel that redemption is close.

Jerusalem is a city that's alive.

She recalls every slight, every hurt, every era of oppression.

She remembers every effort to reconnect, rejoice, and rebuild.

She knows who yearns for her and who wishes to destroy her. Jerusalem has no confusion about good and evil, conqueror and indigenous peoples.

She knows to who belongs to her.

Yet, the city welcomes all:

With the smell of warm spices and fresh breads,

The haze of construction dust and roiling heat,

The sound of children running through stone alleyways,

The voices of prayer rising from every corner,

The gold of the sun setting over her hills.

Jerusalem is a beacon- a lighthouse in the storm.

Yet, she is not a just a symbol.

She is a living, breathing testimony.

We did not invent our longing for her.

We inherited it from generations before us.

Who prayed for her, wept for her, lived with her.

And so today, on Yom Yerushalayim, we remember:

Empires rose and fell.

Nations tried to erase us.

History tried to separate us from our city.

She has known many occupiers.

But Jerusalem never forgot her people.

And we never forgot the way home.