Sheeren Naser

I do not have a legacy of land
To give you like your great grandfather gave your grandfather
You will not inherit a home your family built
I cannot name the people who planted the olive trees on the path from our
home to your cousins’ like your great aunt could
My daughters
The thread from you to your ancestors is frayed and heavy from occupation
and war But it is not broken
And for you, my flesh and blood
I have a peace offering
I will give you the Arabic passed down to me as my parents fled from
Palestine, to Kuwait, to the U.S.
I will give you the recipe for Kusa Mahshi that allows you to replace Kusa
with Zucchini when you can’t find the right ingredients
I have a trick to use cows milk when you can’t find goats milk
I have a peace offering, heart of my heart
With you I will share the patchwork of my Palestinianness
I will show you tatreez and we will make our own designs when we can’t
remember the ones tata taught us
Together we will stitch a legacy that is fully and wholly yours from the
scraps of our exile
We will pull together the pieces of who we are and we will quilt them and
wrap you in them and they will keep you safe
And you will never forget
That they can take our bodies
They can take our land
They can try and rename the food your ancestors made
Even though it existed long before Israel did
But they can never take what we remember
No matter how imperfect it is