I See You!

May 24, 2006

(The photo was taken by me in May of 2006. It is of a Palestinian Christian Girl Scout waiting for the parade to begin. It is a gentle reminder of the stakes in the games we adults play. I keep hoping that it is the children who will motivate us to stop playing war games. In 2006, Sally and my first year living in Jerusalem, 124 Palestinian children were killed by the Israel Defense Force — according to Defense of Children International. In that same year, 4 Jewish Israeli children were killed by armed Palestinians—Jewish Virtual Library.  A child is anyone under the age of 18. Last year, 2022, was the worst year since 2006—34 Palestinian children dead, 3 Jewish Israeli children. This year, 2023 is on pace to double that number with 20 Palestinian and 3 Jewish Israeli children already dead. And the sad truth is, we could stop this violence if we had the will to do so.)

A Little Hope

Hope is hard to come by these days and in this place, so a little hope means a lot. A little hope is like a little light in a dark place, a little water to a woman dying for a drink. A little hope is like a little seed planted in a little parcel of land. And a little hope is a little chance for a little change, and a little change can transform the world.

Yesterday, a little girl gave me a little smile and with that smile came a little hope.

I was walking to our apartment from the office where I work – 6 city blocks. After six months here I’ve learned not to expect much in terms of warmth from those I meet on the street. I walk from one place to another careful not to make too much eye contact with anyone because eye contact can be a threat in an environment where there is so much distrust and anger. Generally I glance in the person’s eyes as we meet to judge whether there is any warmth there, any opening for an exchange of pleasantries. If there is, I nod and smile, and sometimes I am rewarded, but most times not.

A Big Green Bus + A Little Girl

A big white bus with green stripes passed by on the road. It is the bus to Ramallah and in one of the seats by a window sits a little girl, 6 or 7 years old. She has a narrow face, and long, thick black hair. She is wearing an olive green school uniform. Her chin rests on a blue backpack that she is holding on her lap. She is watching me, so I catch her eye. That’s all; I just catch her eye, or is it the other way around?

I expect that she will look away, but she doesn’t. She holds my eyes as if she is a doctor who sees something that needs attention, needs fixing, healing. Then she smiles and lifts her right hand to give a tiny wave. I smile, of course. How could I not smile? And I wave back at her, this little girl. Who is she? Whose is she? Why does she smile at me?  What/who gives her the courage to take a chance like that?

A Little Bit of God

Made in the image of God makes me think that God must be like us in some ways, or perhaps better said, we must be a little like God. I wonder then if there are not times when God needs a little hope. And where would God find hope? To whom would God turn? I realize this is putting human emotions onto a God who is not one of us, but I don’t know how else to relate to God. Do you? Thank God for Jesus I guess.

Here’s what I think—I think one little person seeking to do a little good might give God a little hope. And I think a little hope may be enough for God as well. I pray that God never loses hope. The Bible hints that God gets close at times. Think about the Noah story and God’s shock and dismay at what humankind does to one another. “They do to one another what I could never have imagined,” God tells Noah.

Think Moses in the wilderness needing to remind God that this stiff-necked people are God’s people and that God is not allowed to lose hope in them. Or remember please, Jesus on the cross begging the Father to forgive these people – us – the crown of God’s creation, “for they know not what they do.” I don’t want God to lose hope.

Hope Is Hard to Come By

As I wrote earlier, hope is hard to come by. You seize it and hold it tight and you don’t let go of any hope that comes your way. A little girl, a little smile, a little hope. That was huge for me that day in 2006. I can still see her face—it’s faded but still with me. She’s now in her mid-twenties, by the way.

The world has over 2 billion children under the age of 14. Think of that—2,000,000,000+. These 2 billion children are the hope of the world! What would it take for us to make the world’s children smile? A little attention would be a start. What would that look like? We invest in them and we stop turning away from the violence done to our children. Basically, we stop killing KIDS! We make killing kids totally and unconditionally unacceptable.

In Israel/Palestine last year, 37 children under the age of 17 died by gun violence. That’s a lot. In the United State? — 1639 children died by guns. That’s a lot more, even considering the population differences. And I don’t want to fight with anyone anymore about whether it’s guns at fault or mental illness—kids are dying everyday in violent ways all over the world. It’s about the children! The safety of the world’s children moves to the top of every single person’s list of what matters most.

Our Only Hope

If we adults can find common ground then we can make the world a safer place for children. The only common ground I can think of is each of our love for our own children and grandchildren. Could we extend that kind of love to children other than our own or those like us? I took the picture above in May of 2006, in a refugee camp just outside Bethlehem. She’s just a kid, could be my kid or yours—just a kid. Loving this kid, now grown-up as well, is really not that hard. But you do have to see her first. You have to take your eyes off of yourself, your self-interests, your prejudices and your pride and see the child in front of you. That’s where love begins—“I see you.”