A bitter-looking old man who was gripping the hand of a small boy snarled at the child as they approached a restaurant: “You better behave.” How appalling! The youngster appeared to be beaten down. I felt like smacking his persecutor, but I wisely refrained.
As I watched two pre-teen giggling girls jumping over some jagged rocks on top of a steep walkway, I remarked to the nearby father that his kids were fearless. He replied that they had “lots of imagination.” How blasé! I sensed that the man was dangerously indulgent. I, on the other hand, am by nature overly protective.
After three young men sitting on the shoreline embankment finished debating the feeding habits of seagulls, one of them got closer to the bay to meticulously search for shells. The other two guys began teasing him for his delicacy and began throwing pebbles in his vicinity, some of which nearly hit him. After he told them to stop fooling around, they amplified their abuse. Then one of the mock aggressors gleefully shouted: “You are Israeli and we are Palestinians.” Amused by their clever allusion, the young man trotted back to his friends. Without a trace of rancor, they embraced and walked away, arm in arm. At first, I was worried that the shell gatherer might get injured, but then I realized that the melodrama was merely playful camaraderie.