Many years ago, when I was 3 or 4 years old my grand father use to take me from the kinder garden and sit me on a stone bench under a huge Cyprus tree in the small ally that descends from Beit Hakerem school in Jerusalem’ draws the paper card that generations of Jewish boys learned the Alfa – Bet in the “Heder” and teach me the Hebrew letters while feeding me huge slices of Hala spread with butter. Ever since words for me are bread and butter.