“Arabs are Slaves”



“Jews are the masters, Arabs are the slaves, this is not by chance, this is biology and genetics” ”

They are happy to be slaves, they want to be slaves”

“Arabs want to live under occupation, because they can’t run a country or do anything, look at them, look what they look like”

Said one “chosen” one     https://www.facebook.com/nahida.exiled/videos/2561156563913421/

❤️ Leaking Love ❤️



Today, I made some food and put a plate out for ​my five-year old grandson. He took his plate and started to sneak out of the kitchen.

I said ​Yusuf Habibi come back​,​ ​we are only allowed ​food in the kitchen, we don’t take it out​,​ we only eat ​here.

He came back and sat on the table looking​ ​​very disappointed, then looked​ at me. He pointed at m​e, then at the door.

I said​:​ what do you mean Habibi​?​

He​ said: It’s sign language.

Me: ​But what does it mean? ​does it mean I am a door?

Him: ​(​laughing​)​: No.

Again he pointed at me, then at the door.

Me: Does it mean I’m a chair? (there was a chair in that direction.)

Laughing again, he said no.

Me : Tell what do you mean Habibi?

Him: It means go outside, I want to have a word with you.

Me: OK, Habibi, sure let’s go.

Him: on the stairs please.

Me: OK, sure.
We sat on the stairs​,​ ​then he said: your glasses, they are dirty there is something on them.

Me: ​Oh really? ​what should I do​?​

Him: ​They need cleaning.

Me​:​ OK, I will wash them.

Me​:​ Is there anything else you want to talk to me about?

Him: Yes.

Me​:​ Tell me.

​Him: Why did you shout at me ​when I wanted to eat in the sitting room?

Me: Habibi, I wasn’t shouting at you, I just told you the rules that we eat only in the kitchen. If I raised my voice I am sorry, I should not have raised my voice. But let me tell you why we eat only in the kitchen: ​we don’t take food out ​because the sitting room has a carpet and if we spill food it’s very difficult to clean. The only time we can eat in the sitting room is when we have guests.

Yusuf thinking deeply for a ​little while, then said: I know. I can be a guest sometimes. I go on holidays sometimes then I come back like guests​, so I can be a guest.

Me: hmmm, Habibi, let me explain to you, you can’t be a guest because you live here​.​ This is your home, guests have their own homes.

Him (smiling): Oooh

Me: were you disappointed that I raised my voice when I told you about eating in the kitchen?

Yusuf: No, I wasn’t disappointed.

Yusuf: I was worried 😧

Me:  Worried? Why?

Him: I was worried that I might cry.

Me: Habibi, I would never make you cry, I love you so, so much ​more than you can ever imagine! ​​Y​ou know this ​small ​hea​r​t inside of me​, it has so much love,​ if ​only you ​could​ ​see how absolutely full of love ​​it ​is​ 🥰

Him: My heart is full of love 💕 too​. ​Love actually goes ​from my heart to ​outside of my heart to my skin, to my body, to my mouth, and all over ​me,​ everywhere

Me:  Mine, too 😍

​[BIG HUG 🤗]

❤️ Soulmates ❤️




My sister and I are mystery

We could not be more different

She was the outgoing, I was the timid

She was the outspoken, I was the shy

She was the artist, I was the science freak

She was the extrovert, I was the introvert

She was the athlete, I was the inert

She was the social, I was the loner

She was the confident, I was the meek

She was the brave, I was the weak

Yet mysteriously, we are so much alike


A bean split in half

❤️ Love you Dima ❤️

Don’t Let Them Fool You


You are awesome for who you are

The way you are

That love magnificent gushing through you

Hardest of hearts would soften and melt away

That passion of yours, earthshaking

Moves the world, fills it with laughter, lifts it high

Your gentle embrace, embroidered in heaven

Wipes out misery, radiant again the human race

The power of your grace, majestic and sublime

Puts evil down to utter disgrace

Sweetheart, listen to me

You… Give… Birth… To… LIFE

Can you ever imagine more power than that!

Empowering you?

What a fable!

Power is already all yours

Power isn’t a suit and a tie

Growing muscles or a mustache

Handling machines doesn’t make you great

* * *

Power isn’t waging wars

Commanding mass-killing armies

Leading nations with iron fist

* * *

Power isn’t climbing a ladder of “success”

Trampling over whomever is on the way

Fighting through arms and teeth, for the highest pay

* * *

Power isn’t running in a rat race

While self-harming children coil and weep, all alone

Craving mama’s love, tender hand and blissful gaze

* * *

Charity begins at home, they say

Men and women are completing not competing

Meant to dwell in harmony

Super clusters called family

Where children learn kindness, altruism, dignity and poise

How to grow love, and how love grows

Empowering women?

What a fable!

Power is already all theirs

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