Walking through the old city of Jerusalem, streets I had seen many times before struck me this time as truly being old, historical, beautiful. I had visited Jerusalem before, but I had never experienced this level of realization until now. Either I was not mature enough then or did not appreciate the wholeness of it. As we toured side streets, alleys, and underground passageways, the ancient walls of the city rose up around me, and I became immersed in history that took place thousands of years ago. I was the onlooker, the outsider, the infiltrator of a holy sanctuary in which I shouldn't belong. To one side, a tourist shop selling shiny chamsas and kippot—the other—ruins of a massive wall that once kept King David safe from the Phillistines. I was walking on the stones of history, in the footsteps of old, Jerusalem's past merging with its present until they became one and the same, almost indistinguishable. After this, I don't think traditional classes will be very meaningful anymore...