“Not a good idea,” David said. “Better not draw any attention to ourselves.”
Theresa buried her head into her husband’s shoulder. She counted the seconds in silence. Four, five minutes passed. The Israeli soldiers finally shepherded the Orthodox Jews out of the Temple Mount.
“They’re gone,” David said.
Theresa’s heart rate slowed and she loosened her grip on her husband’s arm.
“We’re safe now,” David said.
“Are we?” Theresa replied.
David stared into her eyes. “Theresa, there are no guarantees in this life that everything will go according to plan. You just have to do the best you can, taking precautions when necessary. But you can’t let fear dictate what you will and won’t do. You have to live your life!”
David was right. She was just one of many who had come to the City of Peace and many more would follow. Muslims, Christians, Jews have lived in Jerusalem for centuries through periods of war and uneasy peace. And yet, they had all persisted—and survived.
Theresa realized that she had, too.
They left the Old City through the Jaffa Gate. A gentle wind ushered them along their way. Theresa looked back at Jerusalem. The setting sun cast a golden glow on its limestone walls, its steeples, and its minarets. She fervently hoped that Jerusalem would stand for many more years to come.