The five lay side by side,
Their tattered books,
Their belonging strewn across their bodies.
But that couldn’t be, shouldn’t be, mustn’t be,
The world asked:
"Can such a thing happen?
In this civilized world of ours?"
The five,
On their way to school,
Joining millions around the world,
Happily swinging their bags.
The five,
Their small shoes shined,
Their uniforms straight and neat.
Happy to meet their teachers and friends,
The sound of their laughter carrying across the lane,
Silenced forever.
The five,
Greeted by the Chariot of Death,
Following an earlier, more thunderous greeting,
Of the deafening booby traps.
Leaving in their wake,
Mothers, souls wrenched asunder,
Fathers with much-loved memories,
Of musical laughter,
Of mischievous innocence,
The five,
They returned,
Not to their families’ loving arms,
But to their Creator.
High in the Heavens,
He embraced them in His benevolence
Accepted them back in His care.
They returned,
Not to the uncaring, cruel, blind world
The world of the raging beasts,
The world of the savage soldiers,
The world of the Palestinian downtrodden.
— Nimah Ismail Nawwab
(NOTE: This poem was written in memoriam of the five children of the Al-Astal family from the Khan Younis refugee camp who were killed by the Israelis on Nov. 22. Over 30,000 mourners attended their funeral and a call was made for an international investigation committee to look into the murder of children and to determine Israel’s responsibility.)