“Is your sister staying in the safe room?” Our 4-1/2-year-old granddaughter ordinarily refers to it as the toy room, despite its other purpose. But seeing my sister had taken over the room as our guest last weekend, she seemed less concerned with her play space than potentially needing shelter, despite three months without missile attacks.

This past Saturday, she spent the afternoon with us. I took her to a small, local peace demonstration on her way home. Her blank reaction suggested she had no idea what it meant when I said we’re going to demonstrate for peace. Trying another angle: it means we don’t want any more wars. That got a smile.

Driving there, I told her a group of 30 or 40 people stand on the pavement, some talking to each other, with someone in front, talking to everyone. “Like a synagogue,” she said.

I suppose so. We’re asking for the end of wars and praying for peace. “Like a synagogue.”

Less innocence Sunday, meeting a friend in Jerusalem. Personal updates. Politics. Knowing where our differing politics converge, she describes an unpleasant encounter involving a Netanyahu supporter. Not a cue she’s moving closer to my ideas, just friends having coffee. She reminds me of her convictions: no room for a Palestinian state here. A prevalent statement even among those who once........

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