I paid for a bulldozer to clear the stones. I had to sell my sheep and goats and my wife’s jewellery to get the money. I put in plastic pipes for water. I proved that my land could grow food. Eight years later, I was lucky. I got my land back. I grow juicy guava fruit, oranges, olive trees, and many vegetables. The land is how we make a living. It is also our memories, our dreams, and our hopes. I feel alive when I am on the land.
Let me tell you a short story. It shows how farmers feel about their land. In 2002, a big fence was built. It blocked us from our farmland. The only way to get to my land was if I had a special paper, which was hard to get. Many farmers snuck through the fence. We cut a hole in it so that we could water our plants. The army arrested many of us, but some of us escaped.
During this time, I discovered a wild tree growing on a steep rock. It was dry and thirsty. I poured a bottle of water. But the rock was steep, and the water ran off. I drilled the lid with a nail, so the water came out drop by drop. The wild tree began to bloom. I did that every day for weeks.
Finally I had to travel out of the country for a meeting. I felt sad about the wild tree. I went to it and said, “Sorry, I have to leave. I will not be able to come back to take care of you, because I have no permit. I don’t want you to suffer, because you are thirsty.” Then I cut its two branches to stop it from growing anymore. When I reached the gate, the soldier asked me what I had in my hand. I felt confused. Why was I still carrying the branches?
Five months later, I got a permission to go to my land. My wife and I passed through the gate together. We were very quiet. We looked at everything as if we were seeing it for the first time. When we reached our small house, my wife cried. Everything was wrecked and dusty. I went to the place of the wild tree to see if it was still alive. I was amazed! Many of its branches were growing again. I kissed it and apologized for cutting two of its branches before. My wife heard me talking. She shouted, “Shareef! Wake up! Who are you talking to?”
I was lying beside the wild tree. A few drops of blood were on my lips, because I had kissed the thorny branches. My wife looked at the rock. She asked, “How can this tree survive? I said, “This is a Palestinian tree. A Palestinian can live without water, without food, if its roots are in its land.”
May we be reminded that we are called to seek justice and to take action to help keep hope alive.
World Council of
Churches. Theological Reflection on Accompaniment:
Ecumenical Accompaniment
Programme in Palestine and Israel, 2005, pp. 162-171.