A sepulchral aura envelops the state of Israel, formerly known as Palestine,. Mourning cries fill the air, adding to the endless veils of agony the states seems to be covered in . Scorched hands clutch prayer books, rivulets of sorrow and vow gradually making their way down cadaverous faces. What haunted past could have possibly caused such excruciating pain? The state of Israel is celebrating Remembrance Day. It is the day when stalwart soldiers perished after bravely engaging in battle for what seems like an interminable number of years. Because of their ruthless murder, yet another being will never inhale a breath of fresh air, the blissful smell of roses. Suddenly, almost magically, the mood shifts and the miasma of sadness evanesces. An entrancing melody begins to play and all seems to obtain its vivacious nature once more. Hues of magenta and mauve replace the navy blue sky and the sun bathes all in its brilliant light. Independence Day has begun: that glorious day in 1948 when Israel finally obtained freedom from Britain. I wonder though, do the other Jews that live throughout the world, outside of Israel, feel anything at all? Is their schedule even minutely altered on this day? Or do they conduct their lives, without sentiment, deeming this to be yet another day that begins with the appearance of the blazing sun on the horizon and concludes with the setting of it? I do think that this is one of the ultimate fears of my life: the immense fear of being unmarred by these days.