I was in Ramallah, West Bank, Palestine, with a tour group on the Saturday before Easter, 1958. As we were listening to an on-the-street presentation about the effects of the division of Palestine into two territories ten years before, a group of five or six boys came close to see what we were about and perhaps do some begging. They were from the large refugee camp on the edge of the city.
I had carried some pennies with me from home and started to hand out a few to the boys there. Instantly there were more boys. Then there were police shouting and waving their batons. The police then wanted to take our cameras because they did not want pictures taken of refugees. With some negotiation we avoided loss of cameras and continued our visit.
Today the same refugee camp is still in Ramallah. It is highly likely that some of those same children are still there, but no longer children. In the past 54 years they have grown up, married and had children. Their children have grown up, married, and have children. Perhaps a few of my “Lincoln medallions” are among the possessions of grandfathers there in the refugee camp.
What’s wrong with this picture?
Contributed by Wilbur Wood, West Hills Friends