Playing soccer in Gaza, we stayed in the sun. We ignored the Israeli drone strikes overhead. We passed the ball and scored the occasional goal. We ran across the field and kicked up sand. Then, the ball got knocked into an Israeli settlement. Mohammad had the courage to reclaim the ball.
He walked over in search of the ball. The Jewish settlers were engaged in Torah study. They read over the Rambam’s commentary as if sifting through gold. When the ball landed in their courtyard, they were stunned silent. Mohammad smiled and signaled saying, “Pass the ball, bevakasha.”
The settlers did more than pass the ball. They asked if they could join the game. With chesed (lovingkindness), the Israelis entered new territory. Soccer was not their strength, but they played with fortitude. We welcomed their attempt at sports. After the game, we, the Palestinians, invited our Jewish neighbors into our homes for tea, which amounted to a conversation about truth and reconciliation. We all have our scholars, students, and sports figures. We protected our families. We entertained strangers with unrivaled hospitality.
The following days the Israelis and Palestinians played soccer in the sand. There was no law against kindness and community. There was only love.
A beutiful story of what can be if hate were to disappear, and the need to defend against it. This writer has a good heart and the best wishes.