Herb Keinon

In most visitors, Alaska inspires wonder at its beauty, awe at its wildlife and admiration for the hardiness of those who make their lives in its vast backcountry, enduring some of the harshest conditions on earth. For Israelis, it can also inspire humility. Not because the Jewish state is smaller than Denali National Park, but because in Alaska one is reminded that the world neither revolves around Israel nor is obsessed with it.

The holidays we celebrate remain constant; what changes is how we experience them as life rolls on. Children, full of awe and excitement, do not experience the seder the same way their parents do. Nor do their parents, tired and focused on the children, experience it the way their own parents do, content to sit at their children’s table, watching it all unfold with quiet satisfaction.

Where you came from, what you believe, how you vote — none of it matters. We are all huddled together, once again in the same proverbial boat under attack. Yet, if we’re being honest, we are not all experiencing this war equally. In a country of 10 million people, some are more in the line of fire than others.

For nearly 20 years as The Jerusalem Post’s diplomatic correspondent — a position I gave up six years ago, when the grueling demands of that beat took their toll — I traveled extensively with the prime minister.

In the ease-of-living category, Israel has progressed light years since I made aliyah some 40 years ago. Light years. When I first arrived, everything seemed difficult. Getting a landline for a phone took two years.