I was in the middle of saying a really long Fast prayer this morning, and I started to think about my recent visit to the Holy Land.

I can still visualize the sights and the smells of the place in my head when I think about it.

And then I came to a realization while imagining myself there: that the enveloping feeling of that place is something very tangible and real, as tangible and identifiable as the weather being hot, or cold, or windy.

Whatever that feeling is -- holiness, sanctity, peace, bliss -- I try to remind myself of it so I can feel it again. Kind of like trying to remember a taste, a smell, or the weather of a particular day.

 A couple of weeks ago, the girls and I were in the car, parked in front of an office that looked similar to this one (with a set of stairs leading up to the entrance, only it was a bit higher up, with more stairs to climb).

May then asks me, "Poppy, what's that?"

"That's someone's office."

"Oh."

[audible pause, with the mute sound of May's brain gears cranking away...]

"Poppy, if those stairs weren't there, nobody could get to that office, and it would be just for decoration."

"Yup, that's right," I said matter-of-factly, while in my head I'm kissing and squeezing her curly little head BECAUSE - SHE'S - SO - FREAKIN' - CUTE!!!!