Here's a bit of encouragement for the Three Weeks:
My father, may he rest in peace, was the only Jewish pilot from Western Canada in the RCAF in World War II. He went to flight school flight school at the Edmonon, Alberta training base. He told me that as a trainee, they had quite a few survival and land-navigational exercises. These were led by a mean sergeant major named Macdonald, who despised Jews. My Pop never hid his Judaism.
Once, Macdonald was leading the trainees up a difficult mountain path in the ice. My father slipped and fell, but was instantly back on his feet. Macdonald didn't miss the opportunity and snorted, "You see - you fell because you're a Jew!"
My Pop was quick on the draw too, and more than a bit sassy. "Wrong, sergeant major," he snapped back, not caring about the consequences, "I'm back on my feet because I'm a Jew!"