A rose is still a rose.

I debated as to whether or not to post this story. I don't like being too personal or intimate with basically the entire world, but I figured it was worth it.

Pretty much every evening I go for a stroll along Emeq Refaim. I always pass by a young man with Down's Syndrome. I don't know how his days are spent but in the evening he goes from store to store or cafe to cafe and sits with the guards at the door. The store or cafe owner will bring him a drink while he sits and talks with the guard. Whenever I walk the young man always makes a point to smile this impish yet meaningful grin at me, say "Shalom" and wave. I always smile back and reply "Shalom" and good wishes to him as I walk by on my way.

Last night, I was quite frazzled; not only am I having a difficult time with Ulpan, I am facing the possibility of failure, a word not often found in my academic vocabulary. I headed up to Burger's Bar where I sat and drank a bottle of Diet Coke while working on a mound of homework. The young man walked by the open window, waved, and said "Shalom." I responded, but not in my usual warmth. I continued working and a few minutes later I felt a tap on my shoulder. The young man came into the restaurant and hands me a rose. A peach colored, somewhat withered rose, he picked off a bush along the street. He points at the flower and then points at his nose signalling for me to smell it. I do. And it was one of the most beautiful smelling roses I have ever sniffed. He lays it down on the table, gives my back a pat, and walks out of the restaurant leaving me to my object clauses and indirect speech.

For a moment, it gave me a bit of clarity. A "break" of sorts from the reality that is learning a completely foreign language. For all the time I've been studying Hebrew in Israel, I've probably been studying it for one reason: to retain my place in my graduate program. I keep reminding myself that I should be learning it for a completely different reason: because I want to. It's incredibly hard.

But just like that withered peach rose, I need to find the beauty in the mundance, whether it be an object clause or indirect speech. Modern Hebrew in the entire scheme of things is a relatively new language. The beauty of it is how it has evolved. How each letter has a different purpose and reason for its placement and use. My purpose in passing Ulpan is now for me. I cannot accept the "thorns" that are object clauses or indirect speech. I must blossom and expand my knowledge.