Like Father

First some creativity

This week’s Stunning Sentence example was this:

Nina Schuyler broken it down into clauses and prepositional phrases and an anaphoras, and I followed the model as best I could to produce this:

They were sitting around the campfire, four hours from home, at a lake on Cape Cod, under a sky full of stars, a perfect moment really, as the five of them held magnificent marshmallows over the flames, the fire as alive as you or me, its outstretched arms reaching up, hands clapping and knuckles crackling, praying joyously or perhaps praying for mercy-- deep thoughts for an eight year old-- if he didn’t yet realize he was an old soul, he understood then that he was a writer.

Nina’s kind reaction:

(All of her reactions are kind, but it’s not hard because her Substack attracts some excellent writers.)

And now, the Gaza Report:
I asked Mahmoud to send me picture of his family happily eating their once a week chicken (which has halved in price, from $50 to $25) and he accompanied just this video with an apologetic note: “Unfortunately, I couldn’t take pictures while we were eating because a guest came over and we invited him to eat with us. It wasn’t appropriate for me to photograph him, but I promise I’ll take picture as you wish next time.”

I responded: “It makes me very happy that you share your food and that you had enough to share.” Unfortunately, he didn’t have enough food to send the guest home with to bring his family, but he hopes to do so next time.

I just imagine what it might have been like for this guest to happen upon the family eating such a meal, and being invited to share it - it might have been the first meat he had in many, many months. And I’m sure he wondered if he should even tell his family, feeling guilty no doubt at having partaken in such a feast without them. I also wonder how Mahmoud explains such bounty. Don’t ask me why or how we got so lucky, but this man and his friends in America decided we weren’t going to be cold or hungry. No, we are not related. Yes, we are ready for it to stop at any moment and don’t know what we would do. He says he is not rich at all and I believe him. We really don’t know what we would have done otherwise, though. It would have been very bad. He would gesture to the adult diapers for his brothers they would never have had money for, among so many other things, like the full water tank and warm winter clothes.

But I doubt he is so forthcoming. He probably says some relatives in Egypt occasionally send money -- it already must be difficult not to incur too much envy, or deal with requests to help him find “a American like that for us, too.” (I have many pleas on various social media via d.m.’s that I must delete with the heaviest of hearts. I can’t risk becoming attached to any other Gazans, although reading about their continued plight upsets and angers me daily.)

They are some of the most hospitable people in the world (this is a trait of Arab and Muslim culture, to be fair) and I know how absolutely routine it was before the war to share a meal with guests and to always, always at least offer tea, cookies and dates to any visitor. The Israeli strangulation of the Strip, and flow of only 30% of needed humanitarian aid since the “ceasefire,” has made that automatic hospitality impossible now. And how to even relax and laugh with a guest when shells are still exploding in earshot, and the conversation is all about what friend or relative has just died and what rumor can be trusted? You can’t even tell the children to go out and play -- it’s too dangerous, considered the ceasefire is a joke the IDF seems dedicated to violating. So this “guest” was an absolute rarity.

Every text exchange between us ends with the warmest outpouring of affection and gratitude that I am embarrassed to share but “your wonderful friends” are also regularly acknowledged, so if that’s you, please feel it. He says I am like a father to them and I have to say, that part of me that has always wanted to be a father feels the pride of being a provider and protector. (Although I am closer in age to a grandfather! Let’s settle on “uncle.”)

I have one prayer for 2026. That in exactly a year, I will be writing to all of you,
“The reconstruction efforts in Gaza are gratifying to watch and Mahmoud is very proud of the work he is doing in construction, and supporting the family. I only send money as an occasional treat now, for birthdays or Eid. Mahmoud made me promise to visit one day, when he finally has a house rebuilt and has opened a restaurant. I told him I’d like that very much.”

MCO 2025

P.S. I have two prayers, actually. You know damn well what the second one is.