It is a song known around the world, a national anthem that stirs Jewish hearts from Manhattan to Melbourne, giving voice to the yearnings of generations to return to our ancient patrimony.
Whether it is performed at the start of a basketball game or the swearing-in of IDF soldiers at the Western Wall, "Hatikvah" moves, inspires and challenges us to appreciate how fortunate our generation is.
I must admit that I still get the chills when I hear the first notes of "Hatikvah" being played, as though the chords themselves reach deep inside and touch something within the soul.
There are certain moments in life that can best be described as transformative. One such moment is when you cradle your newborn grandchild in your arms for the very first time.
A few days before the start of Passover, I was blessed to be inducted into the grandfather club. I must admit that it will take time to get used to applying that term to myself or hearing others use it in reference to me.
Like Tevye the milkman, I look at my own children and cannot help but ask, "I don't remember growing older, when did they?"
But, the addition of grandparent to one's resume, as jolting as it might be, is hardly the most heartfelt or meaningful aspect of the experience.
It is a tale as old as terrorism itself, a mantra repeated down through the years in an attempt to make sense of the Palestinian violence directed against Israel.
Poverty breeds terrorism, we are told in authoritative tones, and hence there is no choice but to ease up on restrictions to avoid fostering further Palestinian anger and resentment.
As simple and concise as this neat little theory may sound, there is one pesky problem with it: it is categorically and demonstrably false.
And by persisting with the belief that it is true, Israeli officials are operating under an entirely misguided assumption, one with potentially dangerous consequences for us all.
By all accounts, it was a small and quiet community, one that consisted of young, idealistic pioneers infused with patriotic fervor and a love for the Land of Israel.
They had come to a hilltop dubbed Maoz Esther to build their homes and to serve as a buffer against illegal Palestinian construction that was encroaching on the nearby Israeli town of Kochav Hashahar in the northern Binyamin region.
But their dedication to Zionism and to the State of Israel was dealt a harsh and cruel blow this past week, when hundreds of Border Policemen stormed the site and proceeded to wreak havoc, leveling more than 20 structures, including two synagogues.
Over the past two weeks, Volodymyr Zelensky, Ukraine's Jewish president, has emerged as a wartime hero, rallying his battered nation amid a brutal and vicious Russian onslaught.
He has delivered daily videotaped messages, stirring in their calls for defiance, and his determination in the face of daunting odds has justifiably earned him lavish praise both at home and abroad.
British Prime Minister Boris Johnson said that Zelensky "has inspired and mobilized not only his own people, he is inspiring and mobilizing the world."