The snarled traffic on the Ayalon highway in Tel Aviv on Tuesday was maddening. Everyone was cursing. But such a storm strikes Israel once every two decades, so it's not too bad. Hearts raced over the people who had to be pulled from raging rivers and those who had to be plucked by helicopters from roofs of homes surrounded by rising waters. More than anything, minds were with Israel's beloved soldiers, carrying rifles on their shoulders and wearing thick parkas and muddy boots as they marched through the country's ravines and valleys. While the discomfort and danger experienced by some Israelis in recent days should not be underestimated, it is only during days like these that Israelis, who are used to hearing about drought and the shrinking Sea of Galilee, can feel what it is like to be washed over by streams of water. They watch the water gush down the Jordan River as if it were Niagara Falls or stare through the glass at the intensity of the rain, re-experiencing old loves that will never return. In a past winter like this, on a matter which I do not remember, I wrote in an article the sentence "Ick, the rain on the shutters, ick." That morning, Dr. Israel Eldad called me and said that I had forgotten to cite that the sentence came from his book "The First Tithe." He said, with a victorious tone, that I had forgotten because I was probably in love. Eldad was not a romantic. But Nathan Alterman, when he was not yet 30, wrote, "The city is combed with light and with rain. Profoundly pretty, she is forever shy." Water puts out, but rain turns on. Once I heard the singer Naomi Shemer say that the word "rain" (geshem) was likely derived from "fulfillment" (hagshama). In the agricultural society of our fathers, one could only fulfill his or her dreams when blessed rain fell. The sages said that a day of rain is as great as the ingathering of the exiles. They also said that when rain falls, the entire world is equal. Back then, there were no umbrellas and no cars with roofs. This year, rain poured down, wind tore through umbrellas and cars got bogged down in traffic. But next year, when we are again asked to reduce our water usage, we'll miss the rain.
