HOPE AROUND THE FIRE

"I've reconciled myself to this…..there will not be peace….. and it's made my life easier. I go to work, and I do what I must, but I've stopped hoping and expecting that we will make peace, any time in the near future."

With these words, Sami, the young Palestinian in the back seat of my car, threatened to darken the light that glowed in my belly as we came home from last night's Sulha gathering.

Minutes before, we had finished scrubbing the pots from dinner and dousing the tribal fire where 80 Palestinians and Israelis sang songs of hope and shared our common dreams, while the nearly-full moon flirted with shining its light through the passing clouds.

I pushed him to look, despite his appraisal, reminding him of Margaret Mead's famous statement…"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has."

Those citizens, Palestinian and Israeli, stood there last night together in a human ring of hope. The love and care flowed, the longing was palpable.

Here, James Taylor expresses what we all felt, there around the fire. 

There are rifles buried in the countryside by the rising of the moon
May they lie there long forgotten till they rust away into the ground
Who will bend this ancient hatred, will the killing to an end
Who will swallow long injustice, take the devil for a countryman
Who will say “this far no further, oh lord, if I die today”
Send no weapons no more money. Send no vengeance across these seas
Just the blessing of forgiveness for my new countryman and me
Missing brothers, martyred fellows, silent children in the ground
Could we but hear them would they not tell us
“Time to lay God’s rifle down.”
Who will say this far no further, oh Lord, if I die today.