In the summer of 2016, I moved to a small apartment in a large suburban area in the heart of Jerusalem.
I was young and hungry.
It was a comfortable home, but I knew that I was still a child.
At that time, there were few child care centers in the city.
I had always dreamed of going to one, but my parents and I were in a tight spot.
If I didn’t find a child care facility soon, I would be living in a homeless shelter and not able to support myself.
A few weeks before my move, I heard about a child-care center that was open for a few months in my area.
It turned out that the center was located near a synagogue.
It seemed to be an option for families that didn’t have a lot of options.
I applied to the center and was accepted.
I have been to the child care center numerous times over the years and I have never been turned away.
It feels like an eternity waiting for my chance to visit.
But I always have a feeling that this is not going to happen, because this center has a very high turnover rate.
I always feel that I am being looked down on, because I am different.
Every time I enter the building, I see a few people that have never met me.
They just assume that I have something to hide.
My husband, who has a master’s degree in education, feels that it’s not fair to take away his dream of attending a preschool.
He believes that I should be able to take care of myself, because we are financially independent.
There are a lot different ways that I can feel like I am not welcome.
I cannot afford the $3,000 to go to a preschool and live in the apartment.
The only way that I could afford the preschool was to take the $5,000 loan from my parents.
I didn`t know what I was getting myself into, so I had to figure out how to survive in the world, and in order to do that, I needed to work.
I started working as a janitor in the building.
I spent my days working as hard as I could to maintain the building and to earn my salary.
I even went to the hospital for a checkup on my head.
But as soon as I arrived in the morning, I found myself surrounded by dozens of other janitors, who were also looking for work.
They were not even paid for their work, so they had to beg for a loan to cover their rent.
In order to pay for their expenses, they often resorted to begging their families.
For my family, this was a major stress.
They could not support their own children because they couldn`t find childcare.
I often cried while I worked in the evenings.
The job was tough and exhausting, but the hours were not bad either.
I could barely get up and walk in the mornings, but after working all day long, I could only go to bed at night.
I found it very difficult to make ends meet.
I also worked at night, because that`s when my family would go to sleep and then wake up in the middle of the night to find that my kids had fallen asleep in their cribs.
This type of job was quite challenging.
When I started to feel like my kids were not receiving adequate care, I started getting worried.
I felt like my life was not fulfilling.
When we would go out to eat together, we would have to pay close attention to our nutrition.
When it was time for my kids to go home, I felt guilty for not feeding them as much as I should have.
It made me think, I`m not making my kids well.
At the same time, my wife and I always felt like we could do better.
We always had to work hard to keep our children alive.
After I had worked for so long, it was hard for me to let go of that desire to be a good parent.
I still have that longing for a child to visit and make my family feel better.
The problem was that I always had this feeling that I had done something wrong and that I didn�t deserve to be treated with kindness.
It is difficult to understand why I was allowed to keep working in the public sector.
At one point, I even took a break from my job to take my kids for a walk in my neighborhood.
But now that I`ve worked for an extended period of time, I can see that it is not something that is something I should ever do.
I`d like to give my children the same kind of treatment as my parents did, but at this point, my child care experience is not worth the sacrifice that I make.
I am a child in need, not a parent.
It takes time for me and my husband to fully appreciate the challenges that we face as a family.
There is so much more that we can accomplish