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Today, I would like to talk to you about a topic that is very close to my heart--fish.
As many of you may know, fish are an important symbol in Judaism, appearing often in Jewish
literature as representations of hope, renewal, success and protection from evil. For me,
fish also embody an important lesson about unexpected gifts and the surprises they reveal.
In the early 1980's while living in Israel, I used to go to Gaza regularly for lunch with
Mohammad, a Gazan businessman with whom I worked as his commodity broker. As we ate
on the second story balcony of a restaurant, where the proprietor reeled in our lunch straight
from the Mediterranean, Mohammad would tell me stories about his family and share wise
insights about his people.
Afterwards, I'd return home to Jerusalem with a gift--a garbage bag full of live flopping
fish. At that time, I had no doubt that Mohammad was not only my customer; I was positive that
he was also my friend, despite our religious divide.
So you can imagine that as a Jewish woman with a profound connection to Israel, how
difficult it is to read about the discord between my people and those of my friend Mohammad.
Logic would dictate that by now I would have lost faith in our future. However, my experiences
tell me that there is hope and that it lies in the power of human connection.
I grew up in Nashville, TN in the 50’s and 60’s. Although I was a sixth generation
American, as a Jewish girl, my life had subtle differences to those of my non-Jewish counterparts.
My family was excluded from certain clubs and organizations, my classmates threw pennies
at the Jewish students, and we were also excluded from after-school dance classes.
At the time, this feeling of "otherness" made me acutely aware of how easily minds can be
ingrained with preconceptions and stereotypes about people from differing backgrounds. These
early experiences taught me to believe in the power of being open to people, regardless
of their ethnicity, race or native tongue -- and to demonstrate this openness with words
and actions.
Fortunately, I have been able to experience the magic of this phenomenon though my work
over the last 30 years. Our Israeli manufacturing plant reveals a mix of secular and religious
Jews, Bedouin, Druze and immigrants from Russia, Ethiopia, and North Africa. In Irbid, Jordan,
700 Palestinian women work side-by-side with Jews and Sri Lankans. It is quite amazing
to watch Muslim-Arab women, in traditional headscarves, sharing work tables with tanned,
sandal-clad Sri Lankans, and solving important technical challenges with their Jewish-Israeli
co-workers.
When we learn to see each person as an individual with his or her own history and story and
welcome them into our lives, we are often surprised by what can be accomplished. One-by-one,
these connections can serve to mend our world’s angry scars of hatred and intolerance.
So my pearl of wisdom is this – view the experience of improbable and unlikely relationships
as a special gift – much like Mohammad’s gift of fish— they are likely to bring hope,
good fortune, and renewal to ourselves and humankind.