Posts Tagged ‘palestinians’

Some weeks ago, my daughter and I, visited a local restaurant that we enjoy. It is run by a Palestinian refugee family that I know.

They are super sweet. Always big, welcoming smiles. The young fellow, M., working the shawarma stand won’t even take a tip from me.

I ask about his family. There are a bunch of them from one big family that sought refuge in Malaysia a few years ago.

They are Palestinians who lived in the Yarmouk Camp in Damascus, Syria. Yarmouk was established in 1957 for Palestinians who fled the Arab-Israeli War. It is now more like a neighborhood and it doesn’t have tents but apartments. The last few years it has turned into a hell hole due to the Syrian conflict. Many, many people left Yarmouk to escape hunger, disease, wicked fighting and death. It’s brutal.

So, some of these family members were displaced twice in their lifetime. Can you imagine?

And they keep plugging along, working away and trying to make it.

He asked if I knew that R.’s father died a month ago. R. is his eighteen year old first cousin.

I didn’t know. My eyes filled up. I felt terrible for them. The Dad’s heart gave out at 47 years of age. I asked how his aunt was doing. He said she is in her mourning period. But doing ok.

Gosh, to be refugees (for a second time) in a strange country. And then this. To lose one of the anchors of the family.

The next evening, I was downtown with my family and who do we run into on the street? R. After not seeing him for months.

He’s working in an Arabic restaurant. We extended our condolences and we chatted for a bit.

Last Sunday, my daughter and I took him out for a drive and then dinner. It was his first day off in fifteen days.

He is a pleasant young man. Would like to return to school but that won’t happen at the moment. He would like to leave Malaysia but that won’t happen at the moment.

I asked him about his boss. Especially since he is working so many days in a row.

Was he good to him? Refugees/illegals are always being exploited.

He told me that the owner of the restaurant was a Moroccan man who was very nice to him. R.’s father had also worked for him. Apparently the boss loved R.’s Dad. His father was a hard worker and would go back and forth between the two restaurants to help out during the busy times.

R. said that he gets his weekly pay but the owner is also still giving him his father’s wages.

Ok, my eyes were filling up again.

I just thought it was one of the kindest things I had heard in awhile.

Have a great weekend. And I hope a kindness, not a hurt, will make your eyes fill up.

Read Full Post »