With Open Doors

Nablus is known for its production of soap. These bars were all cut and stacked, and will be wrapped by hand. My return suitcase will carry a couple bars home.

If something is really good, or there is something that you really like, it can be said to be “swe-e-e-et!” Drag out that “e”as long as you can. Nablus is said to have the best kanafe you can find. In old Nablus we ate at the place that is supposed to have the best of the best, a new tray out of the oven very two minutes, and served hot. It is swe-e-e-et! That is Waseim with me, or rather, that’s me with Waseim.

It was many hours – but it seemed like a short time – that I sat on the balcony and at the family table for stories, laughs, food and drinks with Issa’s mom and dad, his two brothers and his sister, the princess. At the end of dinner, we watched one performer on “Arab Idol.” For the first time, there is a Palestinian contestant. He is good. The Palestinians are so excited. I sure do hope he wins. Samia is a fan, can you tell? One other thing that you would obviously see if you were in their home or in their presence for even a short times: victor and Samia really love each other a lot!

Not only does Victor make my “priest shirts” in his tailor shop. He also cooked up one tasty display of meats on the grill at his home with his family. I learned a new way to “fan” the coals.

One of the patrons of our St. Andrew bingo, who reads this blog, handed me a $100 bill one Tuesday night before I left Milford, “Here is something for the nuns that have that school for the children in that valley that is being taken from the nuns and the children.” The nuns are grateful. This is a photo of me taking a photo of “your” school, Shirley.

Three ago I spent a couple hours in the emergency room of the Beit Jala hospital that is seen on the top of the hill looking down on Cremisan Valley. It has a name, but I refer to it as “my hospital.”

An honor it was to be with Father Gabriel and Father Mario to celebrate Mass with the hope-filled faithful in Cremisan Valley, an area of Beit Jala that is being taken from the Palestinian people of Beit Jala, unless God chooses to somehow intervene, that is. “Thy will and kingdom come on earth …. trespasses: forgive ours, and we, theirs …. deliver us from evil.” In the petitions I heard “Robert” and “America.” They prayed for us!

I am looking at the names of our “HOPE” teachers and folks from Cincinnati signed into the bottom of the chalice that they left in Beit Jala for Masses to be celebrated in the Cremisan Valley.

Up these 92 steps to say hello to some friends that I made a few years ago. The whole world could certainly learn something from the Palestinians about welcome and hospitality. The fact that it was a surprise, they did not know I was coming, they didn’t even know that I was in the country, and it has been a couple years since I have seen them, made no difference whatsoever. Just a quick hello and visit would not do. I was to have lunch with them, of course. When moving toward the table, one of the women apologized for using plastic plates and flatware for lunch, “We have no water.” The Israeli government controls how often the people of Bethlehem are allowed to buy water. It had been twenty days since they last got water. I noticed that the only small glass of water was at the place where they invited me to sit down. Stupid me, it did not dawn on me until later what they had done.

In Bethlehem there is an order of nuns who dedicate themselves to perpetual adoration of the Blessed Sacrament.