There really is something special about a nation that mourns, remembers and celebrates (our Independence Day) collectively –and as far as I’ve experienced in my many travels, our country is the only one to do so. Today, on Yom HaShoah or Holocaust Remembrance Day, the air raid sirens sounded at 10. I was out watering the roses and I and my watering can came to a standing stop. It still moves me every year on this day and on Yom HaZikaron (Memorial Day for our fallen soldiers and victims of terror) to see everything come to a complete standstill. All the cars pulling to a stop in the middle of the road, the drivers getting out to stand still and silent, people walking stopping in their tracks, conversations stopping mid-sentence, and to know that in classrooms and offices across the country everyone is rising to their feet to mark this solemn day, to remember the victims, is extremely powerful and moving. I remember the first Yom HaShoah I experienced here and how I was just amazed to see life suddenly resembles a movie with the frame frozen and then, as the last wail of the sirens die down, coming to life and just continuing on, the driver’s getting back in their cars and driving on, the people continuing their walks and conversations. It is also deeply comforting to know that here, at least, the horrors of what happened will never be forgotten, will never be minimized and that never again is a vow that will never be broken.