Elana Rahamim stood at the open French-doors, silently gazing at the view of Old Yaffo that could be seen from her family's 9^th story apartment in Tel Aviv. As she looked unseeingly at the view her thoughts were full of the tearful letter in her hand that she had received the day before from her cousin.

Elana's brow wrinkled as she reread the scrawled, blotched letter.

Elana sighed heavily; the next two pages continued in a similar vein, as Shira attempted to express the pent-up feelings she had about her family's desire to make Aliyah. As Elana turned back into the living room Imma looked up from where she knelt on the floor clearing out the bureau and smiled.

"You sound very doleful, Elana! What's wrong?"

Elana smiled back at her mother. "Did Aunt Kelli tell you yet that they aren't coming for Pesach any more?"

"Yes, I had a call from her a few days ago. She was very excited because they are going to Spain to look at cemeteries!" and Imma laughed, her eyes twinkling.

"So Shira says ... she's, um ... not desperately impressed by the whole thing." Elana paused. "Imma, what is this business about needing to find proof that they're Jewish? Why do they need it, and don't we all already know that the Córdoba's are Jewish?"

Imma sat back on her heels and looked at her only daughter silhoueted against the french-doors. "Sure, the Córdoba's are Jewish, and they can trace their ancestors right back to Córdoba, in Spain, but my sister Kelli was not born a Córdoba, and it's the female line that counts to the Aliyah officials."

"And you and Aunt Kelli can't prove that you're Jewish?"

"Uh-huh! We know our family came to England in 1893 and settled in Petticoat Lane, and since they arrived in England as Fernadez's, we assume they must be from Spain; but without some proof that they were Jewish, Aunt Kelli really is stuck."

Elana frowned. "Then how come we got Aliyah?"

Imma laughed. "We haven't made Aliyah; we didn't need to, because Abba, being a native born Israeli, has Israeli citizenship."

Elana nodded thoughtfully, then glanced at her watch. She started violently and put down her letter as she headed for the door. "I have to go to work, Imma! I guess I'll have to answer Shira's letter this afternoon ..."

Shira Córdoba ran down the stairs and raced her younger brother Joshua to the front door. They pulled up, laughing and panting, but suddenly Shira held a finger to her lips and tried to silence her heavy breathing. As they waited expectantly the silence was so tense you could have heard a pin drop ... suddenly the front gate banged, there was a sound of approaching footsteps accompanied by a cheerfully whistled rendition of an old Music Hall song; the letter box flap was pushed open with a creak and snapped back into place as the doormat was showered in letters.

Both children pounced, but Shira got there first, quickly flipping through the many bills and adverts in search of a letter for herself. Her heart leaped at the sight of an airmail envelope and Israeli stamp, but it sunk the next moment as she saw that it wasn't for her, but her mother. Slowly she walked along the hall and into the kitchen where her mother was getting breakfast.

"Mum, you've had a letter from Aunt Sarah!"

"Oh, how nice! But I wasn't expecting one ..." Shira handed over the letter and watched as her mother opened it and started to read, her brow creasing slightly as she proceeded through the letter. Finally she folded up the thin blue pages covered in her sister's neat handwriting, slipped them back into their envelope and smiled at her daughter. "Elana will be writing soon!"

"That's all?!" Shira asked in surprise.

"No, no ... do lay the table, please ... No, my sister wrote to say how sorry she is that we aren't coming for Pesach and to ask how things are going with our Aliyah petition."

Shira turned away. "Oh," she said flatly, "Does Aunt Sarah want us to go to Israel ... to live, I mean?"

"Judging by this letter, she wants nothing else! But we have to find some gravestones first ..." and Shira's mother sighed.

Picking up a pad and pen, Elana stepped out onto the small balcony, her bare feet growing suddenly warm on the rough, hot concrete. Sinking into the nearest of the two wicker chairs that stood on the balcony, Elana pulled her feet up and made herself comfortable.

The blank sheets of foolscap on her lap stared dauntingly up at her. Unsure of how to begin and what to say, Elana sighed, resting her elbow on the arm of the chair, her chin cupped in her hand, gazing out towards the sky-line where the ancient buildings of Old Yaffo were silhouetted against the modern skyscrapers of Tel Aviv with the dramatic backdrop of the deep blue Mediterranean ... Almost unaware of it happening, Elana's thoughts became words and took shape on her paper ...

Elana put the lid on her pen and gazed thoughtfully at her letter. She was startled out of her thoughts by Yossi coming up behind her and clamping his hands over her eyes.

"Hey, Elana! What are you dreaming about?"

Elana turned in her seat to look up at her very tall younger brother. "I was just writing to Shira and ... thinking! Have you and Avi finished now?"

"Yeah ... Imma said they aren't coming over for Pesach any more; is that why you were looking so glum?" Yossi grinned up at his sister as he sat down on the hard concrete in a patch of sun.

"Sort of ... and sort of not!" Elana replied thoughtfully. "Uncle Benji's taking them to Spain to research the family tree so that they can make Aliyah, and Shira's pretty cut up about it. But I think mostly because Aunt Kelli is hoping they'll be able to prove her Jewishness, and that means they can make and Aliyah and ..."

"Shira doesn't want to," Yossi interrupted. "Right?"

Elana nodded. "I know just how the poor girl feels, 'cause I was even more against the idea of moving to Israel than she is! She's worried about learning a new language, having to make new friends and ..." Elana paused, fiddling with the pad on her lap. "Yossi, I'm afraid she's beginning to loose heart in the whole 'being a practising Jew' thing!"

Yossi raised his eyebrows. "Wow! She's told you that?"

"Noooo ... she hasn't actually said it, but ... oh, I don't know, she just doesn't seem as enthusiastic about it all as she used to be!"

Yossi stood up and stretched. "The problem with you, Elana, is that you worry too much about people; just concentrate on encouraging Shira to want to come to Israel and leave the rest to G-d. Now are you coming to help Avi an' me with our room or not?!"

"When I've posted this letter ... do you want to come down to the post office with me?" Elana asked as she stood up and followed her brother into the living room. "It's a gorgeous afternoon for a walk," she added as she folded her letter, slipped in into a pink envelope and addressed it.

"Sure," Yossi agreed cheerfully, "I'll get Avi."

Elana nodded as she wrote her address on the back flap of the envelope, then added a quick message below it. She smiled; what a good quote!

"Hey, Shira! Post's come!" Shira leaped up form her breakfast and ran up the hallway to where her younger brother stood sorting through the letters, carefully inspecting every postmark, stamp and address. Shira's anticipation grew as she caught sight of a foreign stamp.

"Josh, for heaven's sake just tell me if there's anything for me!" Shira begged.

Joshua held up the pink envelope with the foreign stamp and subjected it to a careful scrutiny. "Um, nice stamp! But no one should be allowed to use pink envelopes - too feminine ..."

Shira rolled her eyes disgustedly at the ceiling and walked down the hallway towards the kitchen. Just as she had anticipated, Joshua called out to stop her. "Don't you want your letter?" and he held out the envelope with an engaging grin as Shira turned back.

She took it with a half-amused, half-exasperated smile. "Sure you don't just want to steam it open, while you're about it?!"

"Sure, anything you want, sis'!" Joshua said agreeably, and Shira beat a hasty retreat to the kitchen before he took her seriously.

The familiar pink envelope and the Israeli stamp in the top right-hand corner was enough to satisfy Shira without the well-known handwriting and Tel Aviv address on the back flap. She ripped open the envelope and withdrew two sheets of foolscap and read them eagerly.

When she finally folded the closely written sheets and slipped them back into their envelope, Shira wasn't feeling comforted or reassured. She had expected her cousin to be sympathetic and understanding, not to read her a lecture! Shira's eye was suddenly caught by the extra writing on the back of the envelope:

After faith, this is the highest art: to be content in the calling in which G-d has placed you. ~ Martin Luther.

That did it! With everything she was going through, for Elana, blissfully happy in Israel, to accuse her of not being content! That really was too much!

Shira rose and, pocketing her letter, left the room. In the hall she put on her shoes and pulled on a jacket before opening the front door, stepping outside and gently pulling the door shut behind her. As she walked along the road, Shira's long legs ate up the ground and she was soon in the busy town centre, making her way to the doctor's surgery where her father worked.

She pushed open the door and was hit by a strong smell of antiseptic and air-freshener.

The receptionist looked up and smiled as she saw Shira. "Hello Shira!"

"Hello Jenny, is Dad free?" Shira asked as she walked up to the desk, undoing the zip on her jacket.

"I'm afraid he won't be free for another hour, honey; is it urgent?" and Jenny's kind face puckered slightly as she watched Shira's face fall. "Tell you what, why don't you come behind here and help me for a while, and then if your dad has a spare moment, you'll be here to see him!"

Shira smiled gratefully and pushed open the door into the small area behind the receptionist's desk; it was lined with shelves full of folders and Jenny turned on her swivelled chair to face Shira.

"Pop your jacket on that hook and then come and sit down," and she indicated a second swivel chair. "I sure could use some help," she continued chattily, "I'm dreadfully behind! Pippa went on Maternity Leave three weeks ago and I still haven't got any extra help!"

Shira sat down on the empty chair and smiled at Jenny. "What can I do?"

"How about copying these details," indicating a large pile of papers, "onto these cards? When you've done that you could then put them on the computer ... sometimes I feel like I'm drowning in paper!" the cheerful young lady confided to Shira in a laughing whisper.

Shira laughed too and set to work. The two girls worked in silence for a while and then Jenny looked up brightly, removing the little steel-framed glasses she wore for close-work. "I hear you're going to Spain for the Easter holidays - lucky you!" Shira smiled weakly. "Sure you couldn't sneak me into your suitcase?!" Shira smiled again as Jenny turned to answer the 'phone; but her face grew serious.

When Dr Benjamin Córdoba came out of his office, crossed the waiting room and approached the receptionist's desk half an hour later he was surprised to see his daughter sitting behind it copying the contents of an index box into the computer.

"Hello Shira" he said as he picked up the list of appointments that was waiting for him. "Jenny keeping you out of mischief?!"

Jenny laughed cheerfully. "I was just putting her to work while she waited for you, Dr Córdoba!"

Shira's father raised his eyebrows. "Then why don't you come and make me a cup of tea, Shira, and tell me what's on your mind."

Shira jumped up and gladly followed her father into the small empty kitchenette. As she put the kettle on and washed a mug, she felt for the right words. Dr Córdoba perched on the end of the table and began to open his post as he spoke.

"Come on, Shiri, out with it!"

Shira swallowed. Then she turned, her hands still in the water, and looked at her father. "Couldn't we go to Israel as well as Spain? I mean, couldn't we spend one week in Spain, and then spend Pesach with Aunt Sarah's family?"

Dr Córdoba sighed as he stood up and walked over to his daughter, putting his arm round her shoulders. "I'd love to do that for you, Shiri, but I simply can't afford for us to do both ... and I think that trying to find your elusive ancestors is important; maybe next year, if we aren't living in Israel ourselves by then."

Shira sighed. "Yes Daddy."

Copyright N. Allen - MET

Continued in Part Two ...