Street Magic

I spent a few weeks visiting family in Israel over the winter break of my senior year of high school.  Most of the trip was spent with the relatives, getting acquainted with my newest cousins and enjoying the Hanukkah season.  One night we ventured out to dine and shop on Ben Yehuda Street in Jerusalem.  As the sky grew darker, strings of lights stretching above the cobblestone ground began to glow, casting a golden aura over the crowded shops and throngs of people.  A circle of dancing individuals drew a crowd of spectators in one of the open areas, and the sound of footsteps, clapping, and laughter filled the cool air.  My cousin Yuval (he was about three years old at the time) could hardly be contained, and rushed forward to get a front-row view of the dancing.  His small body, tightly clad in insulated outerwear, jumped around as he tried to match the energy of the moving crowd.  Even though the sky was now nearly black, the lights of the shop and street were enough to illuminate the scene, and the golden shades danced across Yuval's round cheeks and bright eyes.  It warmed my heart to see my little cousin, who had attached himself to me shortly after meeting for the first time, so lively and happy.  The atmosphere, the activity, and that little ball of energy made my night so special.