Shimon Perez, Magic Tea, and the Dreidel
“Life is a journey”, something my father often spoke about and lived in a way that reflected this philosophy. He warned me of a society that values the quantity over the quality of life’s experiences. Living each day at an unhurried pace, Dad was highly observant and thoughtful. He taught me that the world would continue to deliver new, valuable meaning if we periodically reflected on where we had been. Each new year before setting goals, I reflect on something from the past, believing that before knowing where to go, one should understand where they’ve been.
This year I am recalling the unlikely circumstances leading to dinner with Shimon Perez.
It was early December 1998, the United States president, Bill Clinton, and a large supporting cast of government representatives, embarked on an official visit to Israel. My assignment was to accompany a small US delegation of legislators and cabinet members over several days. I felt a little under the weather when I departed Washington D.C. and upon arriving in Israel, I had a severe cold. My duties kept me from getting adequate rest and the cold grew worse each day. Toward the end of the trip I was feeling miserable.
After spending the final busy day of the visit navigating Jerusalem and attending meetings, I was looking forward to bedtime. My final task was getting the delegation to a state dinner at the Hilton Jerusalem hosted by Israel’s Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu and attended by President Clinton. With the members of the delegation safely in the hotel’s Grand Ballroom and heading to my hotel room, I ran into a friend who worked at the White House. He inquired as to where I was going and if I had a ticket for the state dinner. Without waiting for my reply, he handed me a ticket--an offer I couldn’t refuse.
Traversing the crowded ballroom to my assigned seat, I encountered a who’s who of public figures from the Clinton administration. Each one greeted me with a politeness common among diplomats who don’t recognize you as anyone of significance. I did my best to exchange greetings while trying not to infect them with my cold. I expected to be seated at a corner table with others who had accidentally acquired access to the dinner. To my amazement I found myself at a table with a US congressman, several members of the Knesset, Jerusalem’s chief of police, and Shimon Perez.
State dinners are magnificent displays and this one lived up to the hype. However, the real gift was dinner with Mr. Perez. Over the next several hours, I listened intently to stories filled with the wisdom of fifty-plus years of public life in Israel and the weighty responsibility of following in the legacy of Solomon, David and Moses. Mr. Perez was humble and kind. He noticed that I was ill and ordered some special tea for my cold.
He covered an extraordinary amount of ground over several hours, a graduate-level review of Israeli history by someone who had lived it. Central to each story was the resilient character of Israel and the Jewish people. He recounted the struggles of the ancient Hebrews as well as modern Jews but highlighted how difficulty coupled with faith always gives birth to miracles. He shared the miraculous story of a Jewish boy born in Belarus who became prime minister of a nation that did not even exist at the time of his birth.
At the end of the evening Mr. Perez handed me a dreidel, the one pictured above, that was serving as a table ornament. He thanked me for visiting and hoped that I would return to Israel, “after all, miracles happen here.”
When recalling this extraordinary evening, I am reminded that nothing worthwhile is easy and to keep the faith when life is a struggle. I also am grateful, a fortunate son of a small, rust-belt town in Pennsylvania who spent an evening with Shimon Perez.
Like me, you may be setting some goals for the coming year—dream big!
Oh, I finally got some sleep that night and woke up the next morning, miraculously, without a cold.