I've been sending out so much discouraging news on my email list, which isn't my fault, it's the state the world is in. But I realized today that, from the things I write about, you'd be hard pressed to figure out how Israelis live; because they do, in comfort and happiness most of the time, despite it all. And the reason is very simple: every once in a while, we get together and celebrate what it means to be Jewish, alive and in the land of our forefathers. This happens most often at weddings and August is the wedding season. Sometimes, we have two weddings a night, and run from one to the other.

I went to many weddings in August and every one of them has been wonderful. One of them, that of my neighbor's son, did something to me. The whole family is so special, every single member a role model of positive energy, compassion and good will. A family of six sons, all in one way or the other involved in protecting and nurturing this country. The father runs an educational program - and he has won prizes for the work he's done - making conversions more compassionate, a credit to Judaism, instead of a blot on our religion. He is someone who is constantly breaking down walls and nurturing good relationships among members of all branches of Judaism, as well as with people of other religions. The mother is deeply involved in caring for the aged.

The bridegroom was the eldest, a beautiful young man inside and out, someone every mother in shul daydreamed about having as a son-in-law (and the girls wouldn't have objected, believe me). The bride, a lovely girl who radiates warmth, was from a family of Russian refuseniks who were friends with the Sharanskys. She was so special that everyone agreed it was a perfect match.

In the hills of Jerusalem, we watched this splendid young couple join their lives together, their visible love for each other and their families and even their guests, enveloping us all in a cocoon of blessing, making us forget all our problems. One after another, people were called up to give their blessings: the former American ambassador to Israel, Dan Kurtzer; Natan Sharansky; distinguished rabbis; and family members. The groom hugged each one with equal warmth under the chuppah. And in a rare show of spontaneous joy, which is so often suppressed in religious weddings, he hugged his bride as well, when finally, officially, they became man and wife.

And as I looked at the eclectic crowd that had gathered together to celebrate in the cool, perfect summer air of Jerusalem's hills, I saw settlers mingling with five-star generals, secular Jews in form-fitting dresses next to wig-wearing religious matrons. And everyone dancing. And everyone so honored to be part of such a beautiful occasion.

Underneath the joy, shining through, I sensed our real strength: our ability to keep on loving despite all the hatred that comes our way. There is nothing - nothing!- that our enemies can do to stop real love in the world. Real joy. Real happiness. They simply don't have that power. As long as there is life in us, we will carry on, bringing up our children to be pure, and kind, and loving, and warm. We will bring them to the wedding canopy and watch them bring children into the world, who will in turn be strengthened and nurtured by these same bonds of love for family, for country, for God, for all men.

I found myself remembering my own days as a young bride. "We're so lucky," I told my husband as I took his hand. "We are so very, very lucky. To live in such a place. To mingle with such people."

And that is the truth. And that is our strength. And that is the reason that we know, despite everything, that we can continue to rely on God's blessings, which He showers down upon us every minute of every hour of every day.

May you all be inscribed for a happy, prosperous and good New Year.