"It's better to hide, I know who I am and proud of my identity, but you will know who I will come in kind to," a non-hesitant American Jewish friend told me just a few days ago as we drove together for a joint pastime and got out of the car. Carrying on his neck regularly.

But what appears to be a marginal act that, at the very least, is intended only as a defense to any misfortune, is a warning to the growing darkness of the land of freedom and unlimited possibilities - are you a Jew? It is better not to externalize it.

As someone who grew up in Israel, before every trip abroad I remember the friendly tips not to speak in Hebrew and when a taxi driver asks where to make up some lie. And our haters have gone nowhere and for a moment we have to take for granted the peaceful routine and the suicide that the danger is not on our heads.

In recent months, I went to visit the Tree of Life synagogue in Pittsburgh on the anniversary of the bloody massacre that took place there. The rabbi and the management team made sure to memorize the mantra "We are stronger than hatred", but also admitted that the prayers of the Tishrei prayers were required to book tickets in advance and pass a security chain at the entrance. In a San Diego synagogue, where a shooting attack happened in April, I recently admitted with full mouth that they are concentrating on strengthening the community after the tragedy and making a conscious decision to abide by media requests for fear of their safety.

The hatred of strangers raises its ugly head again in recent years and reminds us how historically we are about the intentions of our shepherds. Times are changing, technology is moving forward and the world is not stopping for a moment. But anti-Semitism is here to stay.