Oh Mami, says eight-year-old Sara, soon it will be the month of Ramadan, where we fast to remind ourselves that there are people less fortunate than us and that we can all do our part to help. Mami, we have always been poor, but we were also happy, we had a roof over our heads, and, even if we were trapped inside the borders of Gaza, we had such tremendous energy for life and pride to nourish our souls. We have endured a great deal over the years, and especially these past five months, in which we did not only have to endure the thunder from the sky but also even more restrictions on the food, water and electricity we receive from the outside. Throughout, we people of Gaza have shown our mettle, we are survivors and we can withstand the most challenging of conditions.
I must admit Mami, that I am hungry. Usually fasting is supposed to last only from sunrise to sunset, but I have been hungry for much longer than that. No matter what I have endured as a child, it has not changed a single thing in my body or my mind to make me like those who try to starve us. When I see a starving child, I will take the piece of bread from my mouth to feed it to the hungry child, never considering whether that child is Muslim or Jewish, Palestinian or Israeli. We, the children of the world, have one single nationality called empathy. Our principle is to help the helpless without asking any questions, just like the month of Ramadan and our religions tell us to.
Mami, in truth I am already dead, I do not need any more food, but I can still talk. Let those who need it more than I do take my share of what there is. I want to show the aggressors that I would rather feed them, if needed, before I feed myself. That is what I have learned from the religions of the world, from Islam, from Christianity, from Judaism. I will not hide, Mami, that I would also like to see the baffled look of embarrassment on the face of our aggressors when they finally realize that they are faced in us simply with kindness and with humanity. The day will come when this war comes to an end, Mami. Believe it or not, we will be ready to forgive, we will be ready to hold hands and rebuild Gaza. It was Jesus who said, “Father, forgive them; for they do not know what they are doing.”
Mami, I see my little brother crying, but he has no tears. We simply do not have the water or the strength to shed any tears anymore. Even crying takes too much out of us today. I do have a spoon of sugar that I could mix with some seawater. I could give it to my siblings to nourish them for a few more hours and perhaps to allow them to cry real tears again just for a minute. You may not understand Mami, but I am glad our Ramadan fasting started early in Gaza, and likely it will stretch beyond Ramadan. I feel closer to God, I know that he hears us, and every time I feel the privation I hear him speak to me like a sermon dressed in the most beautiful and calming music, a serenade going straight to my heart. I know that heaven awaits and that we will have our just reward.
Mami, I am so proud of you, how you have never faltered, and how you have never had to bend your knee to plead. I am thankful also to the American soldier with the large heart, who was so determined not to be complicit in the senseless killing of Gazans that he set himself on fire in front of the Israeli Embassy in Washington, DC. I would have stopped him, though, because what we really need is people with his strength of character and moral understanding. One day I will join him in heaven, and I will introduce him to all those he honored through his dignity and his rejection of the evils perpetrated by others supposedly in his name.
Mami, if I go before you, you can look up to the sky and you will see me dancing with love, never filled with hatred. I am so proud to be Palestinian, Mami. I am so proud that so many people in the world stood up to unite against the partisans of hatred, against those who do not know what fasting means, as they deny us even a small bite of life.
Children of the world, I speak to you as one of you. I cannot talk very loudly; I have been fasting for so long that I cannot even chew anymore. I am simply waiting for my time, but, as I do, I wanted to thank you all who have stood with us for love and against hatred.
Comments
0 comment