Jerusalem parent finds stability in daily preschool commute

Sarah Tuttle Singer has started a new apartment search in Jerusalem. She found a new unit recently and walked inside to assess its potential. The space is not the Ottoman-era dollhouse she once inhabited, but the move offers a faint sense of home. She plans to install pink tea kettles and fairy lights to make the space livable. This search comes after a year marked by displacement and loss in the city.

Singer’s daily routine centers on her son’s attendance at a special needs preschool. Every morning, she walks through Jaffa Gate to meet the shuttle. The vehicle is driven by a secular man who regularly attends democracy protests. He also insisted that his own children attend a mixed Jewish and Arab school. The shuttle includes a haredi woman known as the melava. She is profoundly religious and right wing, and she supports Itamar Ben-Gvir.

These two adults sit in the car together almost every morning. They occupy opposite sides of the debate regarding Israel’s identity and political future. They sometimes debate their views during the ride. The conversation is mostly banter, though they occasionally invite Singer into the discussion. She usually stays out of the argument because both individuals dedicate part of their day to keeping her son safe.

The dynamic changed on a recent Tuesday when the sky was heavy with clouds and the wind blew. Singer’s son experienced a full-blown meltdown in the back of the car. The melava quietly handed him a book. The driver reached over to turn on The Beatles. Singer sat in the front seat, feeling tired and anxious. Her son eventually settled down. He began turning pages and tracing letters with his finger.

During that difficult morning, no one discussed politics or religion. The group listened to the music together. The driver told Singer, “It has to be so hard for you.” The melava added, “I’m praying for you every day.” The song “With a Little Help from My Friends” came on as they drove through Jaffa Gate. The sun broke through the clouds shortly after.

Singer notes that her son has stopped asking to return to his “castle” every day. The ache associated with that request has softened. However, she still braces herself when they walk through the gate. She describes the layers of Jerusalem as supportive rather than imposing. She has learned that home is built with people rather than stone.

Singer lives in a city where the Byzantine well courtyard is still buried beneath rubble. A bloodstain in the shape of a neighbor remains on the stone floor near her teal door. She feels haunted by past losses but believes she will be okay. This confidence stems from the people who show up for her. A haredi woman, a secular driver, and a little boy learning his letters form the core of this support network.

Singer is publishing a book titled “Fairy Lights in God’s Backyard: A Jerusalem Love Story.” The book is available through KDP. It runs 238 pages and costs $36. The work documents her experience navigating life in Jerusalem while caring for her son. It details the specific interactions with the shuttle team and the broader community. The narrative emphasizes the practical and spiritual help she has received from friends around the world.