In December, before there was any talk of a ceasefire, I bumped into a former science teacher of mine from school at the only vegetable grocer in Khan Younis still able to take payments from banks (rather than only cash).
Salwa Dahlan looked different. Her face was pale, and she had lost a lot of weight. Her blue eyes were drawn and troubled.
I was happy to see her, but anxious at her appearance.
“What’s wrong, teacher?” I ventured. “You look tired.”
“I have been through a lot, my little one,” she replied in a broken voice, every word carrying the weight of the world. “My daughter and her two children were martyred.”
She began to cry and I did not know what to say. Hoping to offer her some solace, I suggested we sit somewhere and talk. …..more
