Olives and Mothers

As I said in a previous post, I picked olives with a family in Roujeeb, a village just outside Nablus, and we all had a wonderfull time. The daughter in the family, Ghadeer, spoke excellent English and we had some great conversations, about the world, about politics, American TV shows; she learned her english in school and by watching Seinfeld and Look Who's Talking, which explains her sharp comic wit. She and her husband Sami have 3 children, Ahmed, Imad, and Ale, and while we were there they were either in school or with us in the olive groves playing. Before we left today, she asked me if she could write a letter to my mother. I was so overwhelmed by what she wrote and the kindness of her family, I wanted to share it with you all, so here it is;

Dear Maureen,

You don't know me. My name is Ghadeer. I'm a Palestinian young lady who has the honor to have your son at her home, I just wanted to raise my hat to the mother who raised such a son, you should be proud of him. I know that you must have been very worried about him, but believe me you shouldn't. I and my family would protect him with our lives, he is kind and so sensitive. I also wanted to say that if you have a previous idea about Palestinians and Arabs we aren't all terrorists and criminals or at least I know I'm not. We're a simple people who wants to live in peace. We have a saying "May Allah protect the life for us and brought us to life for you," so thank you Maureen, you have done an excellent job.

I am working right now, so forgive me I can't speak or talk too much. I wanted to say hello to his dad, and we loved your son and he loves you so very much. I'm a mother myself so I'll understand your worry,

yours
Ghadeer



if just one good thing comes out of this trip, the love and generosity of this family we stayed with, and my love for them would be it.