Lameehas POV
It's the 7th of October. I'm in Gaza, watching how all these innocent people, so hurt and fragile, live. It's been a week since my parents and Zaheers parents told us about this. They're doing some charity work here, so they decided to bring us here to help. Today marks exactly 1 year since the genocide in Gaza started... but it wasn't the beginning of the war.
The beginning of the war started back in 1948, exactly 76 years ago. It's a very interesting thing to think about, the fact that the Israelis have been trying to take this land for 3 quarters of a century and still haven't succeeded. That's because you can't destroy and bring fear to people who only fear Allah. These Palestinians have taught me so much, especially how blessed they are.
In the past 7 days that I have been here, I've seen more martyrs than I have in my entire life. I've seen more mother's, only afraid for their children's lives, not even their own. They run from land to sea, trying to find help, but we have failed them. We have failed every single one of these innocent kids, these strong women, and these brave, bold soldiers.
"Its crazy to think we have all these blessings that we take for granted, while we see them living like this." Says Zaheer, walking up to me. He looks like hes ready to burst into tears, his heart beating so quickly that I can hear it. "How do they have hope in all of this pain?" I ask, not realizing what I said until after the words left my mouth. He stayed silent for a minute, then grabbed the sleeve of my abaya. "Follow me, and stay close." He says, and he starts sprinting, not letting go of my sleeve. I run with him, and I feel the wind run through my hijab. A few minutes later we enter a neighborhood that was bombed just a few days ago.
Flashback
"RUN!" I hear people shouting, as they stampieded, trying to run from the bomb. It landed on the biggest house of the neighborhood. People screaming, mothers holding onto their kids, refusing to let go. Babies shouting and wailing. I stood there frozen, unable to to move. I see blood everywhere, and rifle shots flaring through the air.
"LAMEEHA!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING, RUN!!!" Screams Zaheer, he brought me here to help the sick and injured people from the last attack. I couldnt move, and soon he was running up to me. Before I know it, he grabs my arm, and drags me with him. "ZAHEER! STOP!" I scream at the top of my lungs. He let's go, shocked at my sudden outburst. "We need to go my lammy!" "But theres a baby stuck under that tree!" And before I knew it, I ran right towards the baby. The gunshots were getting closer, and we were running out of time. But we had to save this baby.
"Lift this tree up!" I tell him, and together we get the baby out. I take my jacket and cover the baby, trying to calm it down. "Lameeha, LETS GO!" "BUT-" And he picked my off my feet. His holding me bridal style, while I snuggle the baby. He sprints as fast as he can, supporting me and the baby. We made it just in time. He stopped running after a few kilometers, when we were far from the soldiers.
"Lameeha, are you okay?" He asks as he lays me down on the floor of a broken building, it looks like a library. "Yes I am. And you?" "I am okay Alhamdulillah." "Im sorry for touching you and carrying you, I know your not my mahram but if you ran yourself we wouldn't have made it out. And the thought of l-losing y-you...it would've killed me." He says, with a tear streaming down his face. He quickly wiped it away, making sure I couldnt see it properly.
"Thank you, for saving both me and the baby." I look at him, and for a second we make eye contact. That second felt like hours, and the burn that came from just a single glance, made my eye tear up. He smiles, a genuine smile, one that I havent seen since the first day we've been here. Being in Gaza, trying to help these innocent souls, it has taught us so much, but it also scarred us for life.
The baby was now sleeping soundly in my arms as we walked back to my parents. They were in another neighborhood with Zaheers parents, helping to bury the recent martyrs. We need to find this baby's family.
End of flashback
"Come sit here." He says, patting the spot next to him. I sit down on the grass, a good space away from him. There were a bunch of kids playing with a bruised ball just a few meters away from us. Behind them there is all the broken buildings, only memories left in them. "Look at those kids Lameeha, they are all under 5 years old. They have amputated arms and legs. They probably dont have parents.
But they still smile. They still have fun. They see the colors in the grey sky. They smell the roses, and dont touch the thorns. They are Gazas hope." Hes right, there is beauty in all this pain. They all have some disability, they all have gone through so much, but they still live they're days to the fullest. These are the people who are from Jannah. These are the people who only fear Allah. These are the people who's hearts have only Islam. And that is what makes the sunlight shine just a litte brighter.
"Tell me one of your poems, one about these heroic people." He says, while holding the babies hand. "Okay, look here." I show him the latest edition to my book.
How is it that those who suffer
Suffer with smiles on their faces
Love in their hearts
Kindness that could win races
The true power of those who suffer
Is the suffering itself
They go through hardship
They go through pain
Yet their souls remain so free
They don't cry out in anger
They don't fight for revenge
All they have,is the slightest plee
They are so greatful
Their generosity meets no end
Their hearts remain mindful
Of the one who will end this atrocious loss
~~~♡~~~
• الجمال جمال الروح
"The real beauty is the beauty of the soul."
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