Nov 1, 2009 By Tina Whitehead 4 min read

On Oct. 12 I received a text message: “Military vehicles and bulldozers about to start demolition in Beit Hanna in Almarwahe. Family of 5 including 3 children at risk.” My cell phone is programmed to receive messages from an Israeli peace organization, alerting me to possible home demolitions in the East Jerusalem area. That morning I was on my way to the airport to meet a group of mission volunteers from western Pennsylvania. Had I been at work at my office near Beit Hanina, I would probably have joined others at the site, hoping that an international presence would hinder the demolition.

Instead, I just noted the message and went about my day. I have only witnessed one demolition, but in travels around East Jerusalem have seen site after site where homes have been destroyed or are under demolition orders. Tens of thousands of Palestinians have been and continue to be affected by this Israeli policy. Why? Mainly because they have no permits to build or even to extend their homes to accommodate growing families. (Permits can cost anywhere from $30,000 to $100,000 and are almost impossible for Palestinians to obtain.)

It’s an inhuman policy, and its purpose, either stated or unstated, is to make life so difficult for Palestinian residents that they will be forced to leave. It’s a policy of ethnic cleansing, a slow driving out of a people from their homeland.

I met the group of 13 at the airport and began our two weeks together. Theirs was a trip that incorporated visits to the holy sites, education and first hand encounters with Palestinians both in Israel and the West Bank, and then four days in a West Bank village, helping local families with the olive harvest.

Some of the group had come with an awareness of the contemporary situation, but others knew only what they had heard and read in the U.S. media. But for everyone, it was an eye-opening two weeks.

In Nazareth they heard personal accounts of what it was like living as second class Palestinian citizens of Israel; in Bethlehem they walked through the checkpoint and felt the dehumanization of the people who only asked to be treated as human beings.

Everywhere, from the tourist shops to the families working in the olive groves, they were overwhelmed by the graciousness and hospitality of an oppressed people.

On their last day, as part of a program called “The Contemporary Way of the Cross,” we visited the family whose home had been demolished on Oct. 12. We got off the bus and walked through the gate.

In front of us was what was left of a modest wooden structure. In the yard, in the rubble that remained, were personal items, pieces of furniture, shattered wood and stone – all that was left of their home. Off to the side was their “new” home, a tent that had been provided by the Red Cross. We were greeted by a young Muslim couple in their 20s and their three children and welcomed into the tent.

We sat on mattresses on the floor and listened as Amjad, the husband, shared his story of what it was like that previous Monday to be awakened by security police and forced to leave his home and then to watch as the bulldozers came and destroyed everything he’d worked for.

His wife had just taken the children to school so they knew nothing of what was happening until returning later that day to find their home in ruins.

As we sat and asked questions, Amjad came to each of us and poured glasses of juice while his son shared some candy that he had just been given. Even in the midst of their suffering they served us. It was a very humbling morning and also another experience of disbelief. And to add to the tragedy of the story, we found out that Amjad, only 29 years old, has a heart condition that has already required two surgeries and prevents him from working.

What was this family’s crime that they should lose their home? They didn’t have a permit to build. All they were doing was renovating a former horse barn to make a home for their family. The barn belonged to their in-laws, as did the land. But they had no permit so everything was destroyed.

There were many tears as members of our group hugged the family and said goodbye. But before leaving, we shared this prayer:

We praise you, Holy God, that you bring new life out of grief and loss.

In your mercy,

Comfort all who have lost their homes

Through persecution, war, exile,

Or deliberate destruction.

Give them security, a place to live,

And neighbors they trust

To be, with them, a new sign of peace to the world.

Tina Whitehead is a former resident of Uniontown.