Here is a Slavic dance: memories of childhood pass in front of your eyes. The dance of young people that are alien to you, of Gentile boys and their girls in a wide meadow. Straw-colored locks are streaming. It is as though I can hear the stamping of their feet, accompanied by their songs: “Reik zinot ir moket…” [“You need to know and learn how to love a maiden”].

And I am on my way to the Hashomer Hatzair clubhouse. I will immediately enter the atmosphere of the whirling “hora”, of songs such as “Kinneret Sheli” [My Sea of Galilee] and “Hayarden” [The Jordan River].

To get to the movement clubhouse I need to pass them, and I am filled with fear. Will they let me pass without harm, either physical or verbal, because you are Jewish, because you are different?

And here before me sits our youth, our future, our hope.

When the time comes, will you know how to integrate those who live in a framework different to yours into our ranks? Will you know how to blend with those that have never tasted freedom of expression, ideas and education? Will you know not to be conceited and not to demonstrate your superiority to those whom fate did not allocate an orderly life, educate and culture? Will you know how to accept and respect people, and to love them?

Will you know?