Ramadan began this morning, meaning, I chose to wake up at 3:20 a.m. so I could eat breakfast at 3:30 a.m. with the family who was so generously hosting me in Hebron. We enjoyed plush pita (not like the dry stuff that poses as pita in the States), homemade mish mish jam (apricot--my favorite) courtesy of the mother, Fatima, haleweh (a sugary tahini confection), thin cucumbers, sliced green pepper, tomato wedges, two kinds of white cheese (the sour and soft kinds they have everywhere here), and a totally surprising treat of fluffy cinnamon rolls the oldest daughter had spent the previous few hours making for us. Needless to say she was the only one not at the breakfast table, but at last in bed. If you have ever made cinnamon rolls you know what a labor of love they are. You could taste the love in each bite. They brought additional sweet gifts of memories of my mom to mind, whose favorite breakfast food is homemade cinnamon rolls, which I have had the pleasure of making with her on a few occasions. Well fed, but still a bit tired, I enjoyed the luxury of heading back to bed for a few hours.
For all you honoring Ramadan this month, blessings to you on your sacred fast. May we all become more mindful of the nourishment we receive and remember and share with our neighbors who are hungry and poor among us.