By Laurie Lyter

As seen through my eyes…

Today we sought hope in sacred spaces and got swept up by sacred people instead.

We met kings – like Ramzi, who calls himself the king of Bethlehem (to distinguish from Ramses, the one time pharaoh of Egypt) – a guide who spoke of the church of the nativity (where many people believe Christ was born) and shepherds field (where the shepherds were said to have been visited by an angel) with wisdom, and the struggle of life in Bethlehem without resorting to malice.

We met queens – like members of the premier Palestinian women’s soccer team. Girls as young as twelve refusing to be dissuaded from what was, just a few short years ago, “a game just for boys”. Women playing on the international stage in their uniform and their hijab, resisting the idea that one belief betrayed the other.

Angela – our very own angel – At Diyar Consortium’s International Center of Bethlehem

We even met an angel – Angela who introduced herself as “angel from Bethlehem” in her time living in the US to bring her natural light and levity to some encounters with racism and ignorance that might have devastated a lesser person. A coordinator of public relations for Diyar Consortium’s International Center of Bethlehem, she conveyed hope and an irresistible dedication to the promise that art, culture, and education are the keys to breaking down the walls within and, someday, the external walls as well.

We wandered through caves thousands of years old and sure we saw some incredibly special places, but it was in witnessing the gorgeous stained glass windows made from the rubble of the siege of Bethlehem that we saw real resurrection.

It was in sharing laughter with the young soccer player who responded to male classmates taunts that she wasn’t a “real girl” for playing soccer by declaring that she’d best them at their beloved game (and she did) that we were reminded that all things are possible.

It was in watching hundreds of adults jostling through the church of the nativity, each having to crouch low to get through the “humility door” (built to keep the crusaders out and to prompt all who enter to be humble before God), and then seeing scores of school children walk through with their heads held high that we remember – the promise of hope in this troubled place is incredible, but it is not rare here at all.