Yesterday was International Mother’s Day, and while many of us were enjoying homemade cards filled with love, I was thinking of the families I met just days ago in the Northern Jordan Valley: Palestinian mothers and children facing daily violence, their lives suffocated by a reality no child or parent should have to endure.
As a mother living in Israel, I constantly think about the world I want my children to grow up in. I want them to be brave enough to listen, to open their hearts to “others” – especially to those whose experiences are radically different from their own. I want them to see every person, no matter where they come from, as someone equally worthy of dignity, safety, and a home.
That’s why I invite you to join me for this year’s Joint Nakba Remembrance Ceremony on May 15th, held under the theme: Holding on to Home, Holding on to Hope. Because creating that kind of world begins with choosing to see, to hear, and to care.
To register here the link: https://form.jotform.com/251032941203443
Please support our work: https://www.cfpeace.org/donate
As an Israeli, I’ve learned the importance of challenging myself to hear hard truths. I try to imagine what it would be like to raise a family under military occupation, without the freedoms and security I sometimes take for granted. I have come to understand that the word Nakba is not something to fear – it’s something we must acknowledge if we truly want a different future. This ceremony is about facing history, our history as well, with open eyes, and finding the strength to insist that human rights belong to everyone.
Just a few days ago, I returned from a visit to the communities of Hamra, Ein Hilweh and Farisya in the West Bank. In Hamra, we met the Abu Sayf family, who told us how settlers – led by Moshe Sharvit, a man sanctioned internationally for violent attacks – have stolen their entire flock of sheep. While eating freshly baked bread, and sheltering from a sudden downpour, the family described their daily battle to remain on their land as the settlers shine laser beams into their home at night, harass and intimidate them, and block their children from going to school. All of this while a 90 year old man remained in hospital having been assaulted a few days prior by a settler.
In Ein Hilweh herds are blocked from reaching grazing land, and shepherds in Farisiya described how the Israeli military has designated nearby land as “firing zones” and “nature reserves,” stripping away grazing pastures and access to water, while nearby settlers harass them with impunity.
I was struck by the deep strength of these communities – people who have cared for this land through skill passed down through generations – but also their profound vulnerability. Not because they are weak, quite the opposite, but because they have been systematically abandoned. Even the cruel rules of occupation are flouted without consequence, while settler violence spreads, and accountability is forgotten.
And still, I found hope. The families we met – steadfast and resilient in the face of impossible circumstances – continue to live with dignity, raising their children and tending their land as best they can despite the threats around them. Israeli and international activists are present, offering protection, bearing witness, and standing against this injustice. Their presence makes it harder for this violence to remain invisible and reminds me that even amid despair, we all have a role to play.
I will return to the North Jordan Valley, and I want others to come too. I want the children I meet there – playful, bright, full of potential – to grow up with the simple things every child deserves: safety, freedom, and peace. And I want the mothers to raise their children without fear, to have the space to hope, to nurture, and to rest. To dream, like I do, of a better life for their children – and to know that they are not alone.
Children don’t get to choose the world they’re born into – but as mothers, and as adults, we do have choices. Whether Israeli, Palestinian, or international, may we find the courage and conviction to offer every child the same compassion, empathy, and love we wish for our own.
With hope and determination,
Laura Morris
Development Director, Combatants for Peace
