One morning, Falasteen’s teacher showed her class a map of the world.
‘Can each of you tell us where your family is from?’ she asked.
The children gathered around and began sharing their stories with pride.
But when it was her turn, Falasteen searched the map and found nothing.
‘Miss Baker, why isn’t Palestine on the map?’
Miss Baker looked at the map.
‘I think there’s no such place,’ Miss Baker said.
Falasteen was troubled, confused and curious. She needed to ask more questions.
When she got home, Falasteen’s grandpa was tending his grapevines.
When he saw her, he beamed like he was seeing the sun rise for the first time, the way he always did.
‘How was your day, habibti?’ he asked.
As she watered the flowers, Falasteen told her grandpa what had happened with her teacher.
‘Jido, why isn’t Palestine on the map?’
Jido looked into her eyes with concern. Then he took out his notepad from his pocket and he began to draw.
First, an outline of what seemed to be an ancient tooth, like the fossils in Falasteen’s dinosaur book. Then, ocean waves to the west, lines and borders to the east. With a steady hand, he drew little circles and gave life to cities and villages with names she had not heard before. He labelled one of those circles ‘Huwara: Our Home’.
When he was finished, he tore the page out, folded it carefully and gave it to Falasteen.
‘Here is your map, omri,’ he said. ‘A gift from me to you. Your teacher needs teaching. You can show this to her, so all of your friends can learn too.’
When Falasteen went inside, her grandma was making her favourite treat, spinach pies. She washed her hands so she could help.
As she filled delicate parcels of dough with a special blend of spinach, walnuts, sumac and spicy red pepper flakes,
Falasteen asked, ‘Teta, why isn’t Palestine on the map?’
Teta’s eyes looked through Falasteen, and she spoke as if she was in another world.
‘The soldiers came with their tanks and guns. I carried your mother in my arms and ran to the Jordan River to protect our family from harm. They destroyed our villages and gave them new names. They burned the fields and the olive trees. We left our homes and many loved ones behind.’
‘But I’ve held on to our house key.’
Teta unclasped the necklace she always wore