I was not yet born when Nelson Rolihlahla Mandela was sentenced to life imprisonment. I did not hear his name during my early childhood growing up under the apartheid regime. I was not sure why he was imprisoned in that tiny cell on Robben Island. And I did not know then, that one day, he would unequivocally be my hero. While I have not had the honor of meeting Nelson Mandela, he has been a powerful and real part of my life journey over the past 20 years. I am profoundly humbled by his capacity to forgive and deeply motivated by his spirit and strength.

"There used to be a joke in Paris. What is the difference between the Chief Rabbi in France and the Cardinal of Paris? The Cardinal speaks Yiddish!" Jean Marie Cardinal Lustiger was buried yesterday. He died this week of cancer. He was born almost 81 years ago to Polish parents who ran a dress shop in Paris. When the German army marched into their city, his parents sent him and his sister into hiding with a Catholic family in Orleans.

I dream of a world where children everywhere will put their heads on their pillow at night and not worry about food, shelter or abuse. I hope President Obama finds his footing, plants his feet on the ground and earns his Nobel Peace prize. I dream of forgiveness and reconciliation between Jews and Arabs, Israelis and Palestinians. I hope the day comes when we recognize that cultures that repress women are almost uniformly impoverished and subject to disease, famine and war.