geddo

my geddo. my nostalgia.
I remember it well: my brother and I, on the school bus early in the morning.
there he'd be, standing on the roadside, his hands full.
he stops the bus, stretches his arms through the open window, and hands us our little treats.
green almonds, janerek, apricots, blackberries. a smile.
for grandpa has a valley, right in the middle of our village. and every morning, for as long as i can remember, he heads there along with the sunrise. one by one, he plants, waters, mends, and picks.
my grandpa cherishes his land, his earth, and his family. with no money and no education, he slowly built a house, educated his children, and tought them to stand up for their principles and for their country.
and today, through his eyes, I realize that what Lebanon needs right now is leaders who are a bit more like him. leaders who love their land to death, and leaders who will take care of their valleys, every morning of every day, no matter how hard it is.
This is my geddo. This is my Lebanon.