In a grassy field splattered with patches of tiny lilacs in Ethiopia, I sat next to a twelve year old girl. She watched me out of the corner of her eye, just as I watched her out of the corner of mine. She was making a bracelet out of lilacs and, when she finished weaving the stems together, she slipped it over my wrist. Her face lit up with a smile when I told her that the bracelet, like her, was beautiful. For a moment, I saw the child behind …
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Gaza Balls
It’s been over a week since Israeli shells took the lives of four boys playing soccer on a Gaza beach. I keep searching the Internet, but I can’t find a picture of their ball. It's a silly search, but an important one for me. You see, I know those boys had to be playing with what I call a Gaza ball because, really, there is no other option. Still, pain always seeks proof, and I hope that actually seeing their ball will somehow help me to navigate …