After learning my flight was detained 4 hours, I heard the announcement: If anyone in the vicinity of gate 4-A understands any Arabic, please come to the gate immediately.
Well—one pauses these days. Gate 4-A was my own gate. I went there.
An older woman in full traditional Palestinian dress, just like my grandma wore, was crumpled to the floor, wailing loudly. Help, said the flight service person. Talk to her. What is her problem? We told her the flight was going to be four hours late and she did this.
I put my arm around her and spoke to her haltingly.
Shu dow-a, shu- biduck habibti, stani stani schway, min fadlick, sho bit se-wee?
شو دعاء , شو بدك حبيبتي , استني استني شوي , من فضلك , شو بتساوي
Translation: “Duaa (girl’s name) what do you want honey , wait, wait a second , please , what are you doing?”
The minute she heard any words she knew—however poorly used—
she stopped crying.
She thought our flight had been canceled entirely.
She needed to be in El Paso for some major medical treatment the following day. I said no, no, we’re fine, you’ll get there, just late,
Who is picking you up? Let’s call him and tell him.
We called her son and I spoke with him in English.
I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane and would ride next to her—Southwest.
She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it.
Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and found out of course they had ten shared friends.
Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian
poets I know and let them chat with her. This all took up about 2 hours.
She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life. Answering Questions.
She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies—little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts—out of her bag—and was offering them to all the women at the gate.
To my amazement, not a single woman declined one. It was like a sacrament. The traveler from Argentina, the traveler from California, the lovely woman from Laredo—we were all covered with the same powdered sugar. And smiling. There are no better cookies.
And then the airline broke out the free beverages from huge coolers—non-alcoholic—and the two little girls for our flight, one African
American, one Mexican American—ran around serving us all apple juice and lemonade and they were covered with powdered sugar too.
And I noticed my new best friend—by now we were holding hands—
had a potted plant poking out of her bag, some medicinal thing,
With green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere.
And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought, this is the world I want to live in. The shared world.
Not a single person in this gate—once the crying of confusion stopped—has seemed apprehensive about any other person.
They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too.
This can still happen anywhere.
Not everything is lost.
– Naomi Shihab Nye
Photo by Manon Clavelier
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How sweet…this is so beautiful I’m crying!
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hands you a tissue 🙂
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Beautiful story that needed to be told. Thank you for sharing. 🙂
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This is our world! We live in a world far more tolerant than condemning, yet the events that spark hate draw all the attention. Our world isn’t perfect, but I must believe love prevails.
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Reblogged this on Paleotool's Weblog and commented:
A nice story to start the weekend with in the world apparently full of suspicion and fear.
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Thank you for sharing, George 🙂
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This is the world I live in, too. Full of kindness, affection, talent and joy.
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Same! 🙂
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What a difference acts of kindness can make.
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Thanks for sharing. This brings such warmth.
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Wonderful story. Thanks for sharing that.
And also thank you for following my blog! I greatly appreciate it!
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Maybe if we all reblog your story it can help people see the beauty that in the world. That it is actually prevelant. Not the bad stuff.
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Reblogged this on learningtocry.wordpress.com.
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Thank you so much for this beautiful post. There is so much hope in this–this can (and probably does, more than we realize!) happen anywhere in the world. I do not have words to describe what your post meant to me. Thank you.
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I had something similar once. Someone’s grandmother was sitting across the aisle from me. Before we were off the ground for our 2-hour flight, she was crying and speaking in a language nobody nearby understood. For some reason, before the flight attendant sat down before takeoff, she asked if I could help. I tried my little bits of German, Spanish, and even Japanese. Finally, we connected a little in French, not a strong language for either of us.
We ended up “talking” the entire flight, about her source of confusion and concern, her kids, and her grand kids. I got to see how universal most grandparent issues are.
I also had a nice laugh as several people nearby complimented me on being able to speak what they thought was Turkish or Arabic!
Vincent
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Reblogged this on An Unexpected Life Chosen and commented:
We need more of this in today’s world.
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Wow, I have “goosebumps” from reading this wonderful story. Yes, not everything is lost. Awesome and thanks for sharing.
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Reblogged this on Kindness Blog.
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That is lovely. The world needs more of this.
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Agreed, Mick!
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So grateful for this story and this blog. I’m just discovering it and yours is the first story I’ve read.
LOVE.
Love it, love to you, love to all.
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Beautiful… so beautiful 💖
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Refreshing to my heart
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Reblogged this on thelifeididntchoose and commented:
After living through three weeks of divisiveness intended to plant seeds of doubt, distrust and shore up stereotypes, this post made my heart smile.
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Reblogged this on My Journey Through.
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