At 17, Davidi can’t give blood – unless he has a parent’s note. I was a mixture of proud and concerned. He was donating blood in Jerusalem; I’m here in Maale Adumim. I expected him to call, but got distracted and a few minutes ago, as I was talking to Shmulik, Davidi walked in.
“Why are you home?” I asked him, “I didn’t know you were coming home tonight.”
“Bnei Akiva,” he answered me – it is the name of the national religious youth group – sort of like the scouts, and Davidi is a counselor. Then he told me he has a hole in his arm. He was smiling.
I asked him how it went – it went fine.
I asked him if he drank…”tea and chocolate.” And then, just as he walked out the door to see the work we have been doing in the garden, “and running around.”
He’s 17. He’s healthy, thank God. And he donated blood today – that is how we raise our children here, it seems. They donate their time and their efforts and sometimes, they even donate their blood.
He’s got a hole in his arm…and a sticker that says, “I also donated blood and I saved a life.”
Tea, chocolate….and running around…
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