I drove through the tiny alleyways scanning my windshield for cracks as stones, garbage, and curses were hurled at my car. It was Shabbat afternoon and I was navigating through the maze-like streets of an ultra-Orthodox neighborhood surrounded by an enraged mob. Ironically I wasn’t afraid for my own safety. I was afraid for theirs.
The mob was made up of children. Teeny children.
Their tiny bodies formed a human blockade in the street as they screamed, “Shabbos!” They threw rocks and assorted garbage while shaking their tiny fists in indignation.
Six minutes earlier, I had been resting at home when the call came in: Woman giving birth. Seven minutes away.
Every single time I enter these neighborhoods on Shabbat I am greeted by the same mob. I am yelled at, spat at, and things are thrown at my car. Usually, I keep driving.
