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After digging through about 36 different CDs, I found this particularly old one. After listening to it for 2 days straight, I put it on in the car. My mother immediately got excited and told me that it had one of my Grandmother’s favorite songs on it.
Today, I let my Grandmother listen to it. A huge grin forced its way onto my face. I expected her to do the same. She did smile, but she also did something completely unexpected. She cried. She cried and she told me about how much she missed Palestine. She missed the crisp smell of olives in the morning, the fresh taste of taboun bread, the hard day’s work in the olive groves, her family, her husband, and the sense of unity that being there had given her. She started to tell me stories i have heard countless times, stories that only now, i have been able to appreciate and understand. Little stories with happiness about how she used to sit in front of her house with her sisters and children during sunset, drinking a cup of tea with fresh, homegrown mint leaves. Stories with sadness like the invasion of 1967, when they had to run to the mountains. Stories of anger, grief, and mourning about her dead husband.
I am proud to Palestinian. I am proud to be able to share this wonderful culture with so many wonderful people. I can’t wait till i can go back! That is, to a free Palestine.
PALESTINE WILL BE FREE!