This Is Dedicated To All Arabs And Muslims That Suffer... A Letter From A Friend: A Letter To Palestine Dear Palestine: I am a part of you. I live upon you. I give up nine years of my life fighting for you. I am one of your survivors. Those who have passed, died for what they believed was true. And fighting for you, and to die for you, was what they believed was right. I am writing to you, because ever since the Intifada, I had left you, to live in America. I feel such guilt. There were so many problems going on, I couldn't take it anymore. I'm sorry! I cant stop thinking of your living. I wonder everyday. How the people are. I worry. I worry about the children more. I witnessed so much deaths of little children. I never forgot that day. Seeing little children, wanting to follow in the Palestinian Soldiers footsteps, made me proud of those little children. Extending their small little arms, preparing to throw a stone. I remember seeing one small child. Hiding in the corner. It was a little boy. I had walked towards him. I asked, "Why you crying my dear child?" Crying in such pain, the little boy answered, "They came in my house, hit me very hard, took my mother, and shot her. They shot her once in the back, and twice in the head. I will never forgive them, ever. They will never be able to replace what they have stolen from me" I couldn't believe what this little boy was telling me. I get flashbacks everyday. Never forgetting the words that came out of this little boy. I think about him everyday. How's he living? Is he still alive? Its hard Palestine. I was watching the news the other day. It brought tears to my eyes. Seeing people running for their lives. Its sad to see such a thing. The Israelis holding their guns, and shooting with no hesitation. Shooting at random. Shooting the people as if they were animals not obeying the rules. Young teenage boys, with a hata wrapped over their face, throwing rocks and shouting, "Allahu Akbar! Allahu Akbar." Firebombs being thrown at houses, and houses coming down as if it was a building UN-useful to anyone. Living the Palestinians as refugees. I remember one little boy by the name of Mahmoud, who was 10 years old, telling me, "I like what I like and I hate what I hate. I like playing on a musical instrument, but I don't like making music with a gun. I love the smell of a rose, and I hate the smell of tear gas." He also mentioned, "My color is white, black, yellow....it does not matter. The color of our skin my differ but red is the color of blood that flows in all of us." Mahmoud was aware of what was going on, and so were other children. They saw more things with their own two eyes in one day, that I ever saw since I have lived in America. I am proud to be a Palestinian. I am even more proud that I have fought for you, Palestine. I will never forget those nine years. Those nine years of my life have been so memorable. Though, they are not good memories, their memories that will live a life time. I will share it with family, friends and I will be more than happy to share them with my children, as they grow up. I hope people understand your conditions, and I hope they understand the sufferings. Someday Palestine, I will come back, and finish what was started, and never ended." Love Always "Palestine"