Promise

"Don't you know that it's worth every treasure on earth to be young at heart"

I seem to be crying alot lately. Not boo-hoo bawling, but tears coming easily. Like the heart leaking. A friend said recently if your heart doesn't break here everyday, you need your sensitivity adjusted. That's very true, but I think it works the other way, too. If your heart doesn't swell everyday, something's wrong there, too. It's a big reason that being on mission is so exhausting. Every day is a ride.

The young people here have been on my mind alot lately. There's an organization here called Kids4Peace. It's a program for Christian, Muslim, and Jewish kids and teenagers (and their parents) to come together and get to know each other, understand each other, like each other, and learn to live with each other. They spend a year in the program which includes 2 weeks at a camp in the US. Recently, they had a reunion. Many more than expected showed up, some after several years, meaning it meant an awful lot to them. I watched them reconnect and start right in where they left off, the way kids do. Several of them talked about how the program changed the way they view the world, how they're now leaders in their schools in tolerance and ecumenism. See some photos from the reunion in the slideshow.

Then last week I went to the opening and dedication of a new nursing school branch of Bethlehem University. I'm going to teach there this summer. It's located in a village called Qubeiba, just outside Ramallah in the West Bank. What I love about this school is it's location there in an area of particular poverty and isolation. This is one of the areas that The Wall is trying to close in and shut off from the world. All the students in the school are local kids who now have a chance for a good profession that will assure them of work, even here. At the dedication ceremony, some boys performed a dabka, a wildly energetic Palestinian dance. There are some photos of that, too.

One of the Gospel stories about Jesus' resurrection has him meet two people walking on the way to Emmaus. No one knows for sure where Emmaus was, but one of the possibilities is Qubeiba. Rebirth and promise. How fitting.

Stopping in Ramallah on the way to Qubeiba, I met a young friend I've made. He works in Jerusalem but lives in Ramallah. He doesn't have a permit to be in Jerusalem, so he goes there at considerable risk. He has had to climb over the Wall to get there; he has been beaten up by soldiers who caught him trying to enter Jerusalem. He goes there because there's more work and better pay. It's the first time I've seen him outside Jerusalem. In Ramallah, he belongs. What a pleasure to see him walking around freely, stopping to chat with friends, smiling and laughing. I wonder what will happen to him. Where will he go? What will he do? What lies ahead for this bright, ambitious young man?

A few weeks ago I met a man of 22 at a refugee camp in Bethlehem. As we chatted, he told me about back surgery he had recently. I asked what for. He said because of injuries to his back when he was tortured in prison. What??!! One night soldiers came into his house and took him to prison. During interrogations and torture he was kicked and beaten, breaking some vertebrae. Tens of thousands of Palestinians are or have been in prison. In fact, it's hard to meet someone who wasn't himself or has a family member in prison.

What will happen to these young people who are worth every treasure on earth? Perhaps conditions will change here and they will find the bright promise of futures that other young people have. I hope so because right now I can't think about the alternative. I've already cried enough today.