Peace for a Palestinian by Sahar Qumsiyeh

Author:Sahar Qumsiyeh
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Deseret Book Company
Published: 2017-11-14T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

Faith

“If ye have faith as a grain of mustard seed, ye shall say unto this mountain, Remove hence to yonder place; and it shall remove; and nothing shall be impossible unto you” (Matthew 17:20).

My friend Jessica paid for my ticket to Utah so that I would be able to go through the temple for the first time. My ticket was for August 2, 1997. I was excited to go back to Utah, to see old friends, and to go to the house of the Lord. Although this is not possible anymore, in 1997, some Palestinians were allowed to fly out of the Tel Aviv airport, provided that they could obtain a permit from the Israeli authorities. The rest had to travel by land to Jordan and fly out of Amman. I was happy that I had obtained a permit from the authorities, and I was ready to leave from the Tel Aviv airport.

One day before I left, there was a bombing in Jerusalem. Israel announced that no Palestinian would be allowed to leave the country. I thought that having a ticket and a permit meant that I would be able to travel despite these new restrictions. Surely the authorities knew how hard obtaining that permit was. I asked some of my American friends from church to take me to the airport because even though I had a permit to travel, no one else in my family did, so they could not accompany me. Besides, Palestinians in the West Bank could not drive their cars on certain roads in Israeli areas.

I headed toward the Bethlehem checkpoint with my friends, trusting that, because I was going to the temple, the Lord would help me get there. The soldier at the checkpoint looked at my passport and permit and said that I was not allowed to leave Bethlehem. We argued with him, showing him my ticket and passport, and when he continued to refuse us entry, we asked to speak to his supervisor. Finally, I was allowed through the checkpoint, and we all smiled in relief. Then at the airport, the security guard at the gate would not allow me into the airport. The officer held out my passport and yelled, “No flights for this passport!” Again, it took a bit of effort, but we finally managed to convince him to allow me in. Now that I was at the airport, my friends felt they could leave.

I approached the officer inside the airport. She asked me many questions: “Did you pack your own bags? Did you buy something that you don’t know the contents of? Do you have any bombs? Where are you going? Why?” When she was done asking questions, she gave me back my passport and said, “There are no flights for this passport.” What? Why did she ask all these questions then? I didn’t know what to do. My ride had left, and the time for my flight was getting closer and closer.

I thought I would try another security officer.

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