He was tough
But behind the veneer of toughness
A heart full of love
An intellect full of wisdom
A conscience full of compassion
A life full of beneficence
Endurance and perseverance

The oldest of three brothers
He grew up as an orphan
Losing his mother
At the tender age of six
Deprived of her love and compassion

Nothing is harsher or more painful
To a small child
Than the loss of his mother’s love
Kindness and warmth,
He once told me in a halting voice
While taking his time
Those deprived of such love,
I thought,
Are the most loving, caring
Kind and sublime

He was not yet twenty-three
When he was miraculously saved
Seven bullets had lodged in his back
While defending his hometown, Jaffa
The bride of the Mediterranean
Before she was raped and mutilated
Or upon losing his middle brother
As the battle intensified
And escalated

Living as a stateless was dreadful
Another overpowering form of orphanhood
Deprived of identity and opportunity
Recognition and protection
Even existence
Subjected to daily threats
Of intimidation and fear
A Palestinian refugee has just become
A liability to the unjust world
He was supposed to go quietly
To vanish and disappear

You see,
An ugly crime has just been committed
But the perpetrator was powerful
Had connections and a lot of clout
So the sheriff did not want to investigate
The prosecutor was not interested
And the judge had sold out

But the quandary lingered
Despite the conspiracies
The cover-ups
The lies
The refusal to help the victims
And intervene
The body of the victim
Could not be removed
But was still
In the crime scene

And despite life’s trials and tribulations
He’d guide his sons
And counsel his daughters
Never tell a lie, he’d say
For Truth is the great emancipator
Feel free to chart your destiny
And choose your way
For Freedom is the divine gift
From the Creator

Nothing made him angrier
Than irresponsible behavior and vice
But the anger would soon subside
And make room for good humor
And fatherly advice

He gladly gave up his savings
To educate his son
Though at a considerable price
But it engraved in the son
The true meaning of love
And the profound spirit of sacrifice

To him history
Was the source of all knowledge
Inspiring its love in his son
To learn its lessons
To know the facts
To defend the truths
To unlock its mystery

Those who don’t know their history
Shall have no future,
He would add
And those who ignore its lessons
Shall pay dearly
And end up sad

It was stunning to see him
A big man
Crying so hard
I was only nine
One night in June ‘67
But tears were
Running down his cheeks
Upon the fall of Jerusalem
History was about to repeat itself
And condemn those
Who did not learn its lesson

Even though he passed away
Many years later
Without realizing his dream
Of praying in the holy land
Breathing its air
Or touching its sand

My beloved father had faith
Great faith
That one-day
In the future chronicles of history
His son
Or grandson
Or great grandson
Will pray in Jerusalem
In his memory

May the Lord have mercy
On his soul
And on those who
Follow in his footsteps
And heed his call

* Amin Al-Arian, my beloved father, who passed away in Cairo, Egypt on July 27, 2002 at the age of 77. May God have mercy on his soul.