When you are a victim, you have to fights two wars. The first against those who victimize you, the other is to hold on to your faith in love and stay humane
From my Diary October 2001:
The last two weeks our village was under siege so I did not go to work, I helped my big family collect olives and squeeze the olives to get oil. This is a great fun to do; it reminded me of my childhood days. As we gather around, under and a top each tree, we find the chance to discover one other again and enjoy the simple ways of life. Some villagers were short of flour and other necessary things, but others collected things for them and people shared things. One horrible day the settlers from the settlement behind the hill tried to attack our village and created an atmosphere of terror. Every single kid was crying, and you can hear the scared people shutting their doors and windows and running in all directions.
My brother and me escaped to a little room that we used to store our olive oil in and waited there while my mother and sister stayed upstairs. I was dead worried about my family, and that night felt the weakness, violation and vulnerability of my whole nation concentrated, bitter and painful. In middle of the terrible situation we are passing through, it becomes most difficult for us, we the younger generation of Palestine, to stick to our ideals and dreams. It is extremely horrible to feel violated, weak, vulnerable, and left alone. It is something that can make a deep crack in your basic beliefs in life and love. I'm one of the persons who believed in love as the basic law of life, I believed in the human brotherhood and in the unquestionable human rights. At a certain point in my life I believed that humanity is at last making its steps towards the dawn of freedom and peace. In this time, we are not only fighting to keep alive, but also to stick to our ideals and principles.
While we are being violated and killed as though we are no more humans, and while the world shut their eyes in a horrible silent approval, it becomes difficult to prove to yourself that you are really a human being. We are facing a reality that is not very much advanced than the Stone Age era, where the stronger gets the lion share, and the weaker is killed and condemned. At such a situation, it needs an exceptional type of persons to believe in the ideals of the civilized human being, if there is such a thing yet.
At many moments of despair I was at the edge of exploding of anger, shock and disbelief. What should I do, is this the reality or an ugly nightmare, I was asking myself. My imaginary powers to fantasize, minimize, or suppress the horrible situation collapsed and I was shattered by the black cold reality. Yes it is real and it is happening to me and to my dear ones. Should I tie an explosive belt around my waist and go explode my anger, misery and 100 years-long pain in their streets like many of my generation did?
I will be forever thankful to God who carried me on His love breezes away from it, for giving me the faith when I needed it, lifted me up when I was injured and showed me His thin strong ray of hope that kept my soul parts together, and showed me that my role is to work hard within my small circle of influence in the spirit of unbreakable love.
Yesterday it rained for the first time this winter. You can not imagine how glorious, romantic and touching the first rain on our green sad hills is. I stood at the widow, watching a gray poor cat that had lost one of her eyes at some sort of battle or incident; she was shivering, trying to find a shelter. I wished if I could take her in my arms. The soft rain drops on the glass were so tender and gentle that they moved in my soul a warn wave of passion and love, in a moment of purity I remembered all the lost smiles and dreams, the cries, tears and sorrow, and wanted to cry. I have a dream, so dear, so intimate and magically beautiful. Isn't it great to fight for that dream? Isn't it great to live for it? I hope, in some spiritual way, that you can be with me to know that yes, it is so honorable and great.
From my Diary October 2001:
The last two weeks our village was under siege so I did not go to work, I helped my big family collect olives and squeeze the olives to get oil. This is a great fun to do; it reminded me of my childhood days. As we gather around, under and a top each tree, we find the chance to discover one other again and enjoy the simple ways of life. Some villagers were short of flour and other necessary things, but others collected things for them and people shared things. One horrible day the settlers from the settlement behind the hill tried to attack our village and created an atmosphere of terror. Every single kid was crying, and you can hear the scared people shutting their doors and windows and running in all directions.
My brother and me escaped to a little room that we used to store our olive oil in and waited there while my mother and sister stayed upstairs. I was dead worried about my family, and that night felt the weakness, violation and vulnerability of my whole nation concentrated, bitter and painful. In middle of the terrible situation we are passing through, it becomes most difficult for us, we the younger generation of Palestine, to stick to our ideals and dreams. It is extremely horrible to feel violated, weak, vulnerable, and left alone. It is something that can make a deep crack in your basic beliefs in life and love. I'm one of the persons who believed in love as the basic law of life, I believed in the human brotherhood and in the unquestionable human rights. At a certain point in my life I believed that humanity is at last making its steps towards the dawn of freedom and peace. In this time, we are not only fighting to keep alive, but also to stick to our ideals and principles.
While we are being violated and killed as though we are no more humans, and while the world shut their eyes in a horrible silent approval, it becomes difficult to prove to yourself that you are really a human being. We are facing a reality that is not very much advanced than the Stone Age era, where the stronger gets the lion share, and the weaker is killed and condemned. At such a situation, it needs an exceptional type of persons to believe in the ideals of the civilized human being, if there is such a thing yet.
At many moments of despair I was at the edge of exploding of anger, shock and disbelief. What should I do, is this the reality or an ugly nightmare, I was asking myself. My imaginary powers to fantasize, minimize, or suppress the horrible situation collapsed and I was shattered by the black cold reality. Yes it is real and it is happening to me and to my dear ones. Should I tie an explosive belt around my waist and go explode my anger, misery and 100 years-long pain in their streets like many of my generation did?
I will be forever thankful to God who carried me on His love breezes away from it, for giving me the faith when I needed it, lifted me up when I was injured and showed me His thin strong ray of hope that kept my soul parts together, and showed me that my role is to work hard within my small circle of influence in the spirit of unbreakable love.
Yesterday it rained for the first time this winter. You can not imagine how glorious, romantic and touching the first rain on our green sad hills is. I stood at the widow, watching a gray poor cat that had lost one of her eyes at some sort of battle or incident; she was shivering, trying to find a shelter. I wished if I could take her in my arms. The soft rain drops on the glass were so tender and gentle that they moved in my soul a warn wave of passion and love, in a moment of purity I remembered all the lost smiles and dreams, the cries, tears and sorrow, and wanted to cry. I have a dream, so dear, so intimate and magically beautiful. Isn't it great to fight for that dream? Isn't it great to live for it? I hope, in some spiritual way, that you can be with me to know that yes, it is so honorable and great.
