On the days when I work in the office, I stop at one of our local branches of Aroma to pick up a salad for lunch. Most of the people who work there are hip young Arabs who are unfailingly kind and friendly, and far cooler than I’ve ever been or could ever hope to be. Prior to the war, I would drive into work twice a week, and over time, our connection grew warmer and even more cordial with each visit.
Since the war started, however, I haven’t visited the office, and as such, haven’t been to Aroma – until today, when I decided it was time to return to my pre-war routine.
“I haven’t seen you in a while,” remarked one of the young men while I was picking up my salad. “I’ve been working from home over the past month because of the war,” I explained.
He asked how I was doing, and we briefly exchanged updates. “It’s been difficult,” he lamented. “For all of us,” I added.”
But we will get through this together, b’ezrat Ha’shem,” he said.
“Inshallah,” I responded.
And then we smiled.
