In My Mother's Footsteps: A Palestinian Refugee Returns Home

'Refugees are like seeds that scatter in the wind, and land in different soils that become their reluctant homes' my mother once told me. As a small child, I looked up at my mother and clutched her hand. The puffiness of her palm reminded me of a loaf of warm pita bread, and when she laced her fingers into mine like a pretzel, I felt safe. I would have walked with her to the ends of the earth.

When Mona moved from California to Ramallah to teach conflict resolution in a school for a year, sh...