Bal'a - بلعا: Daughter of Palestinian Men

?Father's Day", observed in this month of June, is a day for expressing love and respect for our fathers. In Canada, we celebrate and honour our fathers or men who have acted as a father figure in our lives.

Like a lot of North American holidays, this has become a kind of hollow tribute. We give gifts, cards, make special meals, or go on special outings, instead of really thinking about what our fathers, and their fathers before them, have given us. We forget about the riches, strengths, and wealth of knowledge that they have passed on to us.

As a daughter of Palestinian men, I am constantly reminded of the gifts bestowed upon me over the ages by these extraordinary men. Their dignity, immense fortitude and courage have been handed down to me throughout the generations. My mind wanders ?seeing images of my great great-grandfather, who rose each day at dawn to work in his olive fields in Palestine. I see my grandfather who watched his fellow Palestinians waiting in long lines for free food from the United Nations. He was bitterly angry that the United Nations offered the refugees rice instead of helping them return to their homes and their land.

Images of my own father, who came to Kuwait to work in the oil industry when such a thing was unheard of, float around me today like wandering spirits; yet I feel their presence, like angels, guardians of time and memory.

I can almost hear them urging me to fight on and to remember, to live with dignity, pride and resistance. When I sit and work, it often seems as if I can feel a hand on my shoulder, as if all the separation of time and place are condensed into a single moment. I am never alone.

My father instilled in me the value of education and always told me "Education is a weapon. You can lose everything else, but you will never lose education once you acquire it!"

My Palestinian father left Palestine at the age of 18, travelling to Kuwait to seek work to support his family and to build his future. Forty years later he immigrated to Canada and a few years ago he moved to Jordan. He is 73 years old now and still homesick. He has planted peach, fig and pomegranate trees. Wherever he lived, he planted trees. He planted a small garden of Palestinian herbs and vegetables. He raised rabbits, chickens and pigeons and fed the eggs and meat to his children and grandchildren. He raised nine cats. He loved his trees. I saw how he looked after them with love and care. He could not stand to see a branch broken or the fruit of any tree carelessly discarded. I watched him do this in Kuwait and Canada homes. I didn?t visit Jordan. My father had a reputation of unmitigated honesty. There is no one like him yet there are thousands like him - gentle Arab daddies who love their children and would do everything they ask. Daddies who have a hard time with news, and who throughout their lives remember and suffer. I wish everyone could have a father like mine.

I have inherited my father?s burden of lost ?balad?. He never saw his beloved fig trees again and still smells the jasmine tree which is now lost forever.

My relationship to my own father is much like my relationship to what I will call today, my Fatherland, my beloved Palestine. As a daughter I stand in awe, amazed at the endurance, self-discipline, patience and accomplishments of this man. When I am discouraged or doubtful, I rely on his wisdom, honesty, compassion, and willingness to forgive.

My father taught me to never give up - never give in; to reach for the highest goals in life, whether those aspirations were personal, spiritual, or moral. He insisted that all things are achievable and instilled in me fortitude and a sense of tenacity in all I attempt. His faith in me sustains me, still.

Without him I am truly a wanderer, with no home; for it was through his eyes that I came to know my home, and under his watchful gaze to know myself. When I looked in his eyes, I swear you could see the night sky, and with it the stars so bright but eyes were often filled with longing and grief, as if one tear shed would create a new ocean.

Looking into those deep beautiful hazel eyes with long black eyelashes, I could see the whole world, my history, all that came before me and all that has since been bestowed on me. Under his gaze, I sensed my responsibilities, my fortunes, my pains and my glory.

This Father?s Day I have no fancy gifts, no cards, no special meals to give him. I can only give myself. I am his daughter, a true daughter of Palestinian men. In some ways I feel I have failed him, as I have no riches or great status. I am simply his daughter, his legacy. As a woman of complex surroundings, beliefs and feelings, I hope and pray that the gifts I have given will be returned to him one day, will be returned to all the Fatherland (Palestine); gifts of devotion, ardent love and affection.

My hands may be empty, but my heart is full of rich offerings: great love, endurance, immense faith and genuine fidelity to my people - fidelity to my father and to all our fathers who have withstood and continue to withstand the forces of injustice, hate, greed and brutality with grace, courage and modesty; selflessly and yet not weakly.

Today I honour this legacy. I pay tribute to all Fathers of Palestine both the living and the dead - honour to the Fathers and children of our great martyrs. I offer you my heart and it's unyielding spirit of defiance and hope. I offer you my deeds, acts of resistance and love. May you find a place of temporary rest, a respite from your grief if only for a moment? May you find relief from all of the agony unjustly and cruelly imposed upon you time and time again.

You are our memories, our history, and our names. You are the ties that bind us through these long harsh years reminding us, by your very being, to never give the struggle for all that is good and decent in humanity - reminding us always to remember what we are made of, insisting we never forget. We never will.

Glory and Praise to the Fathers of Palestine, to our own fathers and their fathers. Blessings and prayers of peace to the fathers yet to be. May your children inherit a world of peace, comfort, ease and pride in their histories.

We Love You. Happy Father's Day!

Rana Abdulla - Canada