Frozen Spring – Jerusalem Returning

“I need to forget everything,” Hannah wrote to Johan as she passed through the last stone arch connecting the gardens of the Mishkenot Shaananim Centre with the narrow stone path of the Beit Israel synagogue. She continued to walk along Dror Eliel Street, then stopped for a while in Teddy Park, the green zone with fountains planned from its inception as an open space for children. She passed the intersection of Dohha Isaac and Al Batriarkeya Al Armaneya to enter the Old City through the Jaffa Gate. When she reached St James Cathedral, on the road between the Armenian Patriarchate and the Orthodox Monastery, Johan called her.

“We can’t forget, Hannah! We live to witness our memories. When will you return to London?”

“I think in two weeks,” she answered.

“They’re saying that the world will be closed down soon. There will be isolation and limitations in travelling, so please take care.”

“All right, Johan. I am going now to the Armenian Gardens.”

“When you simply say ‘all right,’ I am afraid it is not so,” said Johan.

“Kozeta is waiting for me there.”

“Well, dear, how was the exhibition at Mishkenot?” he continued.

“Kozeta and Marianne said ‘all right’. The pictures from 1938 of the house of Mohamed R., the elder,  superimposed on the pictures from 1998 of the body of Med R., the nephew,  made the visitors burst into tears. They are used to pain, but they weren’t expecting this. The Righteous among the Nations massacred in the darkness of the Balkans—this reminded them of the Holocaust. ”

“Listen Hannah, yours is not just an exhibition; it is history.”

“Yes, Johan, it...