
The prayer-rug
itself was not pointed toward the direction of Mecca as custom during the Calls
to Prayer, there were no Calls to Prayer ringing out in Gaza at the time, it
was not even pointed to Israel as if to curse it. Instead, the man’s prayer-rug
was pointed toward his home.
Swallowing hard, I raised my camera.
He tried to prop up his wide shoulders, but I could tell they were heavy. His arms at his side, his eyes focused. He dipped to his knees, fell forward to his hands, slowly and brought his head to the mat, prostate in prayer, he lingered before retreating to his knees, rocking forward then back as he prayed.


After weeks of raining bombs and rockets shaking through the windows, after the raging battle is over, there is nothing left but to start from the bottom.
Broken stone into dust is a devastating picture. With so much brokenness around them, they will have to find the strength to keep cleaning, keep working through the mess and ultimately find the strength to rebuild.
What is on the outside reflects the inside of a human being. And the pain of bombardment, an abused existence with captors and the desperation to get out of an open cage play into hopelessness.
Still the man prayed. I can only believe he brought his confusion, his pain to the prayer mat seeking an answer, seeking a way to gain the strength he’ll need to wade through the wreckage.
No significant gain from the Cairo talks, the Palestinian people must find a way to no longer live defeated - and this man, on his knees knows just that.
He must find the hope survive, to live, to break through the barriers that have kept him in. When survival is all he knows, grieving seems to never end. Insha'Allah Mercy be upon him.
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