"Stop looking down," A. from Brasil told me. "Look at people when you talk to them. Don't look down. Stop being ashamed." His words touched a deep place in my heart.
"Stop it," I told him, looking away and blinking hard. "You're going to make me cry. I've already been crying all weekend."
"That's okay," he said. "You can cry. It's okay. Just don't be ashamed-- of yourself, of your body. No one is better than you. And you are not better than anyone else. Different, yes-- different skills, bodies, lives. But not better. We are all equal. So don't look down. Don't have shame about yourself." He stopped, clearly waiting for a reply. I nodded.
"Okay," I all but whispered. He grinned.
"And talk strong!" he laughed at me.
And then he shoved an ice cube down the back of my shirt.
And thus is summed up my relationship with the male volunteers on the moshav-- the older brothers I never had.
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