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Siga nosso Blog e fique por dentro das novidades! File upload progressor. Como Baixar Livros para o site Fire. Wasfiya is still asleep. He smiles. Even asleep, there is still something about her of the girl she once was, the cousin who grew up with him. He caresses her with his gaze because she is his comfort and consolation. Not just today, but also back when his eyes rained so much — on that night in , which turned the man he had been until then into something of the past.

Without warning or motive, a group of Israeli settlers had come to the village in the middle of the night.

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They beat on the metal door of his house, waking up the whole family with a shock. Yaser ran to see what was happening, first checking on his wife, who had gathered their children close to her. Through the crack of the window, he saw the men shouting threats, gripping their weapons. He thought it better to open the door before they knocked it down or fired their weapons.

They beat and humiliated him. And they shouted that all the Palestinians should leave the land that did not belong to them. Being assailed and dishonored in front of his own children can change a man forever. All that is in the past now, but it continues taking place within him — now and perhaps forever, until the end of his days.

Yaser sighs; he blows the clouds of the past away from his own sky. He works out how long it has been in years: But he can still clearly remember the frightened children, wondering if it was not all a nightmare. The weather will be good today, less heat to dry the plants. Rain would be better. Maybe by the weekend, as they said on TV. The day is just beginning, concealed by the night.

It will not be long for the sun to set its eyes on Yaser, and in the meantime, he takes care of his flock. With a handful of sheep and goats still due to give birth, the days will soon be filled with new lambs and kids.

Yaser goes into the barn, a baby bottle and a bucket in hand. He cannot help but smile as he is welcomed by the leaping animals, as though he were their mother. He likes the way things are: But Yaser knows that one day or another, he will no longer be able to keep from crying again. May he be blessed and may his tears be tears of joy. Maybe this joy will come if Hala gives him a grandchild, or if one of his sons gets married, or if Talal comes back to this land, where he was born.

Yaser smiles as he imagines his firstborn eating the white soft cheese made by his mother that same morning. After years working in Saudi Arabia, his son will come back and he will be his boy again. That day will be the day when his roots will stretch out; finally in Palestine, here in Yanoun, at home, with his own people.

As soon as he walks into the house, he will see the new white tiled floor and the yellow walls well painted with the money he sent. Once home, may he not take long to find a good woman, like his mother, to have his own family and children. Unlike their parents, young people today no longer want to marry their cousins. Back in his day, his father and uncle had talked for a while, drank tea, and smoked.

They already knew how their children felt about each other and there was no need for an arrangement or any persuasion — all they had to decide was the date of the wedding. The love between Yaser and Wasfiya was certain, a love only nature could have created. After their parents had agreed, they had hoped it would also be the will of Allah. They blushed as they imagined what being a husband and wife might be like, something they would soon learn together.

On the agreed date, the family had a party and the relatives came — both close and distant ones.

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They ate plenty and well, laughed and sang the old songs that everyone knew. And less than a year later, Talal was born.

Then, every two or three years, they were blessed with another child, until they had four: A halo of light to fill the house with grace, and who one day would also be able to give birth, from her own womb, to one more family member.

Yaser prays that his children may find their partner in life who will bring shelter to their souls and be their consolation and comfort. May they know what it is that makes their mother and father still smile at each other, even after all this time. The world, suddenly, so simple and good. He does his best with what he has.

If he could sleep better, he would dream again, after years of waking up from deep nights, which left only sparse sensations. Still today his chest tightens, even though he tries not to let the beasts of bad thoughts so much as stoke the afflictions of the past, tirelessly darkening his spirit.

Haunted by the familiar fear that the settlers will return in the middle of the night. So, on days that begin like this, with clouded skies, the Palestinian man busies himself by hoeing with more force, turning the straw more, changing the water more often, checking the wool, skin and teats for disease.

He feels that he needs to set an example, to take care of all his responsibilities: Download file.Carta de cobrana. Ahmad Mohammed Hamdel in front of the remains of his demolished house in the Palestinian village of Tawayel. Resposta Carta de Emprego.

Both cry in public Next Video. Pessoalmente, o Sr.