The massive golden dome glimmered, with shards of hope piercing sandy corners of the street where children drew in the dust.

It was getting dark, and an eerie silence settled over the city. Jews and moslems alike, gathered inside the safety of their heavy walls to keep the holy law; 24 hours of rest.

Stragglers, heads down against the advancing twilight, hurried home from their day of toling; squinting against the blinding reflections from the holy dome. Their minds carried the burden of the centruies of struggle and unrest. Weary, they trudged the narrow lanes, under dim arches and past shaded doorways.

Then, with a burst around a final corner, home was in sight. Safe. Light. Warm. Family. Love. Acceptance, and a shared meaning. Truth.

This was the reasons they struggled through the other six days – a place of belonging, collective faith, shared community and rest in what had already been accomplished.