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her family.
    “May we soon return to Jerusalem!” Iddo said, raising his cup of wine. Dinah lifted her cup along with everyone else, but Iddo’s words had created a tension in the room that he didn’t seem to notice. “I can faintly recall celebrating Shabbat in Jerusalem when I was very young,” he continued. “But those memories were overshadowed by the years when Jerusalem was under siege.”
    The room fell quiet. Iddo never spoke of those memories, and it must have surprised everyone that he did now. “We were starving near the end. There was nothing to eat for many, many days. And now . . .” His voice trailed off as he stared down at the table.
    Dinah reached for his hand. “Now we’ve been richly blessed with abundant food,” she said.
    He looked up at her, puzzled, and pulled his hand free. “Now we will return to the Promised Land,” he corrected.
    “I hope you’re right, Abba,” Berekiah said, “but I worry that you may be disappointed. The world isn’t the same place it was when you were a boy. The nation of Judah no longer exists.”
    “They wanted to cut us off from our land and our faith andour traditions,” Iddo said, “hoping we would mingle with the pagans and disappear!”
    Dinah had never seen him this way at dinner before, his face flushed, his quiet voice raised. “Hasn’t the Holy One been with us here, Iddo?” she asked. “What difference does it make which patch of land we live on?”
    “It makes a huge difference!” He turned to their grandson, Zechariah. “Do you remember what we studied the other day about God’s four promises?”
    “Yes, Saba.” The boy smiled as if pleased to be included in the adult conversation. He was such a bright boy, a gifted boy, yet still sweet and tender at age eleven. Since the day he was born he’d been able to make Iddo smile, bringing a light to his eyes each time he toddled into the room, helping him forget the grief that haunted him. Even if Dinah didn’t have a million other reasons to love her firstborn grandchild, she would love Zechariah for that reason alone.
    “He promised to give us the land,” Zechariah replied, holding up one finger. “He promised that we would be as numerous as the stars in the heavens. . . .” He held up a second finger.
    “It must be a pretty cloudy sky,” his Uncle Hoshea muttered, “if we’re the only stars that are left.”
    “He promised that through us all the nations of the earth would be blessed. . . .”
    “All of the nations hate us,” Hoshea said, speaking louder this time. “It’s impossible to see how we have blessed anyone.”
    “Hoshea, please,” Dinah murmured.
    “But it’s true, Mama. The only way we’re a blessing to the Babylonians is as their slaves and servants.”
    “Tell us the fourth promise, Zaki,” Dinah said.
    “He promised to live among us and be our God.”
    “Yes! We were created to live with God,” Iddo said. “And His dwelling place on earth is His temple in Jerusalem. That’s whyit’s so important for us to return and to rebuild it. Without it, our sins will continue to separate us from Him.”
    “Does it have to be in Jerusalem?” Hoshea asked.
    “Of course it does! Do you think He would dwell among us here, alongside pagan idols and pagan temples?”
    Dinah’s grandbaby fussed in his mother’s arms as if sensing the unsettled atmosphere. Shabbat dinner was never this loud, with raised voices and arguments. Dinah stood and took the child from his mother. “Let me see if I can soothe him,” she said. She left the room without looking back and carried the baby outside to the courtyard, gently rocking him in her arms.
    The rain had stopped but the winter night was cool, and she held her grandson close to keep him warm. She brushed her cheek against his smooth, soft skin as she tried to soothe him and quiet her own worried heart. A handful of stars peeked between the clouds, and she thought again of God’s promise to Abraham to make