It was astounding to her that this ancient Church of the Nativity had escaped destruction by the Persians when they conquered and systematically destroyed the Holy Land. She marveled at the paintings on the side of the church depicting the three wise men that had come from Persia. They knelt to pay their respects to baby Jesus and offered him gifts.

Six hundred and fourteen years later, another kind of Persian raided Bethlehem. Unlike their ancestors, they were blind to the light of the bright star from the east, failing or fearing to see it. With different beliefs and mentality, they invaded to destroy the Holy City, to burn it to the ground. However, upon entering the Church of the Nativity, and seeing the painting on the wall, they stopped their destruction, and the church was spared.

The group arrived back at their hotel in the early evening. Penelope took a shower and rested. She felt as if her body and soul were no longer in her control. She had completely surrendered herself to the will of God. She felt an inner strength and feeling of contentment within the deepest reaches of her body.

"Mom, don't fall asleep yet," Eleni said, interrupting her rest.

"No, I am not falling asleep, my child," Penelope replied. "But I am not feeling hungry for dinner tonight."

"Mother, we had a hard day, you must be a little hungry."

"No, child, I am not."

When Eleni returned from dinner, Penelope smiled at her and said, "You don't know how happy I am to have you as my daughter, Eleni."

Eleni looked away for a moment and then answered, "Thank you, Mom."

"You are wonderful, Eleni. But there is something you could do for me."

"What is it, Mother?"

"Well, I would like you to take me to the Holy Sepulcher tonight," Penelope asked her daughter, lowering her eyes.

"You know I would do anything for you, Mom," Eleni replied, approaching her mother's bed and touching her shoulder. "But we are going there tomorrow night."

"I know, but I want to go there tonight."

Without further questions, Eleni agreed to her mother's request, noticing a change taking place in her: Her self-confidence had returned.

***

The Palestinian people were friendly and respectful to the visitors as they walked through the narrow streets on their way to the Holy Sepulcher. On the way, Penelope could not resist the delicious looking baklava in the store windows. Some of the sweet shops reminded her so much of the ones in Smyrna.

Penelope had once felt the same way about Palestine: It felt like home, with a mosaic of different people living together, Armenians, Jews, Greeks, and Turks, each one enjoying the other's culture and food. But those were the days before the war. Now, even here in the land of faith, tension abounded between the Jews who demanded their own country and the Palestinians who were trying to keep one.




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