<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8878456002878071299</id><updated>2012-02-11T22:37:44.123-08:00</updated><title type='text'>He who has an ear, let him hear</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Emad Guihad Daoud</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07410978804418731040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/TAY3MoSJ7TI/AAAAAAAAACg/sdUnCe5Mwdg/S220/Me+and+Cookie.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>11</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8878456002878071299.post-648551212083310922</id><published>2010-06-02T03:01:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-06-02T03:44:45.916-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Lebanon for more than two years now</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/TAY1faCxAbI/AAAAAAAAACU/fJ5V0BkCTmI/s1600/IMG_0910.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 179px; FLOAT: right; HEIGHT: 320px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5478124810425926066" border="0" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/TAY1faCxAbI/AAAAAAAAACU/fJ5V0BkCTmI/s320/IMG_0910.JPG" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;Hello, it has been a while now - about two years and a half -since I had wrote something on my blog... maybe i felt at a moment that this is a waste of time, or maybe a state when someone is so lonely that s/he even can not speak to oneself loudly, and instead only write to a stupid screen. Anyhow, this week i thought of returning back to my blog and attempt to write something on it, maybe for a change, or maybe it is the work stress that is making me do it...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;A small update about my life, since i last wrote to you in 2007! I am now living and working in Lebanon since Jan 2008, have enjoyed my life here in this &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;extravaganza&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; ....i mean Lebanon...I wonder why i used this extravaganza word??! I guess this is related to the nature of Lebanon....sorrow and Joy, laughter and hard times, guilty or satisfied, rich or poor, rich or rather claiming to be rich!, speak french or pretend to speak french!!!, the fashion, the food, demonstrations on almost everything...all in all, an extravaganza&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I will explore with you my experience in Lebanon through the following blogs, i guess that I will submit it once a week...that is hopefully...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;I will try to set out the lessons from every episode of exploring the extravaganza, otherwise known as Lebanon...&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;الصديق كالنخلة يزهو وكالأرز في لبنان ينمو - مز 92: 12&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8878456002878071299-648551212083310922?l=stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/feeds/648551212083310922/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8878456002878071299&amp;postID=648551212083310922' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/648551212083310922'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/648551212083310922'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/2010/06/lebanon-for-more-than-two-years-now.html' title='Lebanon for more than two years now'/><author><name>Emad Guihad Daoud</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07410978804418731040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/TAY3MoSJ7TI/AAAAAAAAACg/sdUnCe5Mwdg/S220/Me+and+Cookie.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/TAY1faCxAbI/AAAAAAAAACU/fJ5V0BkCTmI/s72-c/IMG_0910.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8878456002878071299.post-5325646339372482964</id><published>2007-10-29T10:44:00.005-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-29T11:10:39.642-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#6600cc;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;الله يريدك كما أنت...... يعني ربنا عايزك بعبلك !!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;نعم .....هذا ما يريده الله....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;انهارده في حوالي الساعة 6 مساءاً، قررت إني أطلع كتاب بستان الرهبان وأحاول أقرا فيه شوية.... فوضع الله هذة الجملة الرائعة أمام عيني، ووقتها شعرت بإحساس غريب وجميل وشعور بالإطمنان لا يمكن وصفه مهما حاولت أو تكلمت...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;سأحاول أن أشرح القصة لعلها تكون سبباً في فرح إنسان آخر في حاجة لسماع كلمة تشجيع جميلة من الله....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;في أحد الأيام، جاء القديس باللاديوس للقديس مكاريوس الإسكندري وقال له:&lt;span style="color:#cc0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; يا أبانا لقد قررت أن أترك الدير لأنني أرى أنني لم أتقدم في حياتي الروحية ولم أستفبد من وجودي هنا لخلاص نفسي.....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;فرد عليه القديس مكاريوس قائلاً: &lt;span style="color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;حتى لو شعرت أنك لا تتقدم في الدير فإدخل قلايتك واحرس حوائطها واضعاً في ذهنك أن الله يخلص بكلمة فمه وليس بما أنت قادر عليه.....&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000099;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000000;"&gt;لا أستطيع أن أوصف لكم شعوري بالفرح عند سماعي لهذة الكلمات، وحين صرت أفكر فيها مراراً وتكراراً وجدت أن المسيح جميل جداً، هو لا يريد مني شيئ سوى أن أقول له يا رب أنا مش عارف بس إنت تقدر لأنك أبو الكل....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;إن كان في خطية مسيطرة على فكري، حتى وإن كنت غير قادر على التغلب عليها، أمام المسيح يكفي أن أحرس حوائط القلاية، وأترك له حياتي يدبرها فهو ضابط الكل ومن بيده مفاتيح السماء ومغاليقها...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#006600;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;السلام للقديس الأنبا باللاديوس الذي أعطانا سيرة وأقوال أبانا أنبا مكاريوس الإسكندري&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8878456002878071299-5325646339372482964?l=stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/feeds/5325646339372482964/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8878456002878071299&amp;postID=5325646339372482964' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/5325646339372482964'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/5325646339372482964'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/2007/10/blog-post_1235.html' title=''/><author><name>Emad Guihad Daoud</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07410978804418731040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/TAY3MoSJ7TI/AAAAAAAAACg/sdUnCe5Mwdg/S220/Me+and+Cookie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8878456002878071299.post-6567779152724851236</id><published>2007-10-24T04:23:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-24T04:28:45.311-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"&gt; &lt;span style="color:#330099;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;أبــرار معـاصـرين&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;يقول القمص لوقا سيداروس فى كتابه " رائحة المسيح فى حياة أبرار معاصرين " :&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كان هذا الأب الكاهن من سوهاج ، فلما عرفت هذا الأب عن قرب وجدته رجلا بسيط القلب مملوء بالعاطفة . كانت نفسيته بسيطة ، علاقته بالمسيح ليس فيها قلق و لا تعقيد ، كان يحب المسيح من قلب بسيط كقلب طفل صغير . توطدت العلاقة بيننا جدا ، و كنا كلما سرنا لبعض الوقت نتكلم عن أعمال الله و تأملنا فى كلامه و وعوده الصادقة .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قال لى مرة و نحن نتكلم عن أعمال الله ، أن من أعجب القصص التى عاشها فى خدمته إنهم أيقظوه يوم سبت النور بعد أن سهر الكنيسة حتى الصباح بعد إنتهاء القداس الألهى الساعة السابعة صباحا ثم ذهب لبيته ليستريح .. أيقظوه بإنزعاج و قالوا له قم إعمل جنازة .. قام من نومه العميق منزعجا ، و سأل من الذى مات؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قالوا له الولد فلان .. أبن ثلاثة عشر عاما . لم يكن الولد مريضا و لكن فى فجر اليوم وجدوه ميتا .. و حزن أهل الصعيد صعب و صلوات الجنازات رهيبة .. لا سيما إذا كان موت مفاجىء أو ولد صغير السن . قام الأب و هو يجمع ذهنه بعد ، مغلوبا من النوم ، فكأنه كان تحت تأثير مخدر .. لم يستوعب الأمر .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;كان يعمل كل شىء كأنه آلة تعمل بلا إدراك ، غسل وجهه و ذهب إلى الكنيسة ، وجد الناس فى حالة هياج و عويل . دخل هذا الكاهن الطيب ، باكيا مشاركا شعبه ، وضعوا الصندوق أمامه ، و كان لهم عادة فى بلده أن يفتحوا الصندوق و يصلى على المتوفى و الصندوق مفتوح . صلى صلاة الشكر ، ثم رفع صليبه ، و بدلا من أن يصلى أوشية الراقدين ، صلى أوشية المرضى بغير قصد و لا إدراك ، كان كأنه مازال نائما .. و فيما هو يصلى " تعهدهم بالمراحم و الرأفات .. أشفيهم " ، إذ بالصبى يتحرك و هو مسجى فى الصندوق ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;قال : لم أصدق عينى ، جسمى كله أقشعر . تجمد فى مكانه و لكنه أكمل الصلاة ، و زادت حركة الصبى ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;صرخ الكاهن ، إنه حى ، هاجت الدنيا حوله .. فكوا الولد من الأكفان ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;إنه حى .. سرت موجة فرح الحياة .. إنقشعت أحزان الموت .. إنه يوم سبت النور ، يوم كسر المسيح شوكة الموت . كان يحكى هذه الحادثة العجيبة ، التى هى أعجب من الخيال ، و كأنه لم يكن له شأن فيها ، بل كان متفرجا و مندهشا ، لم يكن الرجل ينسب لنفسه شيئا و لم تكن نفسه محسوبة فى نفسه شيئا ، و لكن الواقع إنه كان رجل الله ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;و قد إنضم إلى مصاف الكهنة السمائيين و أنتقل من هذا العالم الزائل بعد أن خرج من السجن بسنوات قليلة . أرتقت روحه المسبحة إلى طغمة الذين يسبحون الرب بلا سكوت و بلا فتور .&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;منقول&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8878456002878071299-6567779152724851236?l=stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/feeds/6567779152724851236/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8878456002878071299&amp;postID=6567779152724851236' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/6567779152724851236'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/6567779152724851236'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/2007/10/blog-post.html' title=''/><author><name>Emad Guihad Daoud</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07410978804418731040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/TAY3MoSJ7TI/AAAAAAAAACg/sdUnCe5Mwdg/S220/Me+and+Cookie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8878456002878071299.post-4455782764698705425</id><published>2007-10-18T12:59:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-18T13:09:46.486-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Violence in the World</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/Rxe9WUv6iEI/AAAAAAAAABg/VDv50Y5PddE/s1600-h/somalia_technicals.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122771292381677634" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/Rxe9WUv6iEI/AAAAAAAAABg/VDv50Y5PddE/s320/somalia_technicals.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;War zone…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;War zone, a very interesting word in computer games, in videos and movies…children love to play with weapons and run around each other saying Bang Bang….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3 days ago, I knew what is really a war zone…for the first time in my life it happens that I see real weapons moving around and performing Test firing drills….oh it is bad…it is really bad&lt;br /&gt;People can never imagine what it is like to have to listen to gun shooting just outside your house, it makes you feel really bad… &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;And the problem is that there is no indication where there will be fighting starting or not, as a result there are no intentions for evacuating international staff or not…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here is the story from the beginning, I woke up on Monday afternoon on the sounds of lots of shooting everywhere, so I picked up my Radio VHF (also known as -aka- Walki Talki) and I called the Security coordinator asking him about what is going on, and I knew that there was a tribe that attacked the city and managed to occupy a city close to the one that I am sitting at….&lt;br /&gt;Since this situation occurred, we are imposing strict security measures and we are extremely cautious about life in this Land of Somalis !!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Since then, I stopped playing volleyball, and running for sports, and now I sit on the roof on the building to watch technicals while they try the guns…if you don’t know what technical means, it is a car that has an automatic rifle on it, you can see it in teh picture above!! &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is the update for the past 3 days, all I want to say is that now when I listened to the sounds of shooting, I felt really ad…violence is a very bad thing in human beings, violence in our life makes me feel bad and sad…I hope that I would never be put in a situation of violence, and I hope that God would teach me how to be calm as much as possible in this world that is full of turmoil and hate…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God, please teach me how to love others…&lt;br /&gt;Emad, from the land of Somalis &lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8878456002878071299-4455782764698705425?l=stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/feeds/4455782764698705425/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8878456002878071299&amp;postID=4455782764698705425' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/4455782764698705425'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/4455782764698705425'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/2007/10/violence-in-world.html' title='Violence in the World'/><author><name>Emad Guihad Daoud</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07410978804418731040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/TAY3MoSJ7TI/AAAAAAAAACg/sdUnCe5Mwdg/S220/Me+and+Cookie.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp0.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/Rxe9WUv6iEI/AAAAAAAAABg/VDv50Y5PddE/s72-c/somalia_technicals.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8878456002878071299.post-8470335966353186525</id><published>2007-10-13T01:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-13T01:45:17.047-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Pictures from the Land of Somalia</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RxCEEUv6h-I/AAAAAAAAAAw/7NLiwrvAibI/s1600-h/S5020830.JPG"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;Dear all...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;please do not be scared from what you see, but this is the capital of the country that i am currently staying in, you can imagine that there is nothing and i mean nothing in it !!&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000000;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;now, you can easily sit back, grab a cold glass of soft drink and enjoy the fact that you are leading a happy life in your country, and that you are way blessed than some people in this globe..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;sit back and watch...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="justify"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120737986144274402" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RxCEEUv6h-I/AAAAAAAAAAw/7NLiwrvAibI/s320/S5020830.JPG" border="0" /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;this is the gate of the UN Compound, you can notice that there is nothing outside it !!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RxCEEkv6h_I/AAAAAAAAAA4/QY9C6VeYL1Q/s1600-h/S5020831.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120737990439241714" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RxCEEkv6h_I/AAAAAAAAAA4/QY9C6VeYL1Q/s320/S5020831.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;you can be surprised and ask what is that building doing in the middle of the desert, this is my friends the other UN compound in the city !!!, and these are the 2 biggest buildings of the city&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RxCEE0v6iAI/AAAAAAAAABA/Ov-sR7Roxr0/s1600-h/S5020839.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120737994734209026" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RxCEE0v6iAI/AAAAAAAAABA/Ov-sR7Roxr0/s320/S5020839.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;I introduce to you...the city !! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RxCEFEv6iBI/AAAAAAAAABI/1vYf5iRCOIA/s1600-h/S5020847.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5120737999029176338" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RxCEFEv6iBI/AAAAAAAAABI/1vYf5iRCOIA/s320/S5020847.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;this small white thing is a car that was car-jacked  recently, they stole everything in it and just threw it here !!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt; &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;this is a small glamps of the capital city in Puntland!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;Cheers and see you later&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="left"&gt;ED&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8878456002878071299-8470335966353186525?l=stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/feeds/8470335966353186525/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8878456002878071299&amp;postID=8470335966353186525' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/8470335966353186525'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/8470335966353186525'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/2007/10/pictures-from-land-of-somalia.html' title='Pictures from the Land of Somalia'/><author><name>Emad Guihad Daoud</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07410978804418731040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/TAY3MoSJ7TI/AAAAAAAAACg/sdUnCe5Mwdg/S220/Me+and+Cookie.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RxCEEUv6h-I/AAAAAAAAAAw/7NLiwrvAibI/s72-c/S5020830.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8878456002878071299.post-6474978473972886437</id><published>2007-10-06T23:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-10-07T00:51:44.663-07:00</updated><title type='text'>My New Vision of Life</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RwiNokv6h9I/AAAAAAAAAAk/wDx5p11SRAA/s1600-h/somali_refugee.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5118496704705497042" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RwiNokv6h9I/AAAAAAAAAAk/wDx5p11SRAA/s320/somali_refugee.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;A script of a discussion i had with a Somali oldman on the 2nd day i arrived in this land...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Somali Old man:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Good Morning Sir&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: Good morning to you &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Somali Old man: where are you from&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;Me: i am egyptian...so we can speak arabic if you can !&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Somali Old man:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;Ahhh...that is good (and he starts to speak arabic with me)...i had many teachers in school about 20 years ago, who were from egypt...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: that is great, i know that sometimes people from El-Azhar university come to teach here in the country&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Somali Old man: yes indeed this is....ohh Egypt, i always wanted to come to Egypt, .....the Nile....a peace of heaven...(then the old man starts looking at the desert)&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Me: (smile) yes it is....yes it is...&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;yes it is....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I never knew that i would one day come to Somalia, this is really a great leap experience in my life...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;being here in this country makes me wonder...how could be there humans who are living in this very poor circumstances in the 21st century???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;life in this country has made me think twice and thrice about the blessings and great gifts that God has given me in this life....i also think alot about how much my country- Egypt - is blessed with many things that people here consider as a part of heaven.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;it has been about 1 week for me now in this country and i have noticed the following that has really had an impact on my life....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;1- sometimes you think that there are lots of things that you can not love without, however, when you are in a situation that you don't find these things, you can notice that there is no problem, and that you can live without it...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;2- worst thing in life is to eat alone...try always to make good use of the times that you are able to spend with your friends, because you dont know what or when it might happen and you would find yourself alone...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;3- when it comes to being happy or not, it all depends on you, and not on someone else, or any other circumstance....you can be happy with an onion as much happy as with a fried chicken...it all depends on your state of mind...and the game is how to control this state of mind...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;4- life of monestaries is very very very difficult...and those who are chosen to go there are indeed called by GOD and that they really can make miracles....a week for me now here in some sort of building inside the desert, and i can truely understand how do they feel.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;well i guess that there are even more lessons to learn, and i have plenty of time to learn !&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;see you later.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;Emad&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt;from the land of Somali people&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8878456002878071299-6474978473972886437?l=stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/feeds/6474978473972886437/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8878456002878071299&amp;postID=6474978473972886437' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/6474978473972886437'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/6474978473972886437'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/2007/10/my-new-vision-of-life.html' title='My New Vision of Life'/><author><name>Emad Guihad Daoud</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07410978804418731040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/TAY3MoSJ7TI/AAAAAAAAACg/sdUnCe5Mwdg/S220/Me+and+Cookie.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp2.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RwiNokv6h9I/AAAAAAAAAAk/wDx5p11SRAA/s72-c/somali_refugee.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8878456002878071299.post-8483249639404918102</id><published>2007-06-27T23:43:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-27T23:47:27.983-07:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;هل أنت جزره أم بيضة أم حبة قهوه مطحونة ؟&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;إشتكت إبنة لأبيها مصاعب الحياة وقالت إنها لا تعرف ماذا تفعل لمواجهتها وإنها تود الإستسلام فهي تعبت من القتال والمكابدة ذلك إنه ما أن تحل مشكلة تظهر مشكلة أخرى&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;إصطحبها أبوها إلى المطبخ وكان يعمل طباخا ملأ ثلاثة أوان بالماء ووضعها على نار ساخنه سرعان ما أخذت الماء علي في الأواني الثلاثة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;وضع الأب في الإناء الأول جزرا وفي الثاني بيضة ووضع بعض حبات القهوة المحمّصة والمطحونة / البن في الإناء الثالث  وأخذ ينتظر أن تنضج وهو صامت تماما نفذ صبر الفتاة ، وهي حائرة لا تدري ماذا يريد أبوها إنتظر الأب بضع دقائق .. ثم أطفأ النار &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;ثم أخذ الجزر ووضعه في وعاء وأخذ البيضة ووضعها في وعاء ثان وأخذ القهوه المغليه ووضعها في وعاء ثالث&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;br /&gt;ثم نظر إلى ابنته وقال : يا عزيزتي ، ماذا ترين ؟&lt;br /&gt; أجابت الابنة : جزر وبيضة وبن &lt;br /&gt; ولكنه طلب منها أن تتحسس الجزر &lt;br /&gt;فلاحظت أنه صار ناضجا وطريا ورخوا&lt;br /&gt;ثم طلب منها أن تنزع قشرة البيضة&lt;br /&gt;فلاحظت أن البيضة باتت صلبة&lt;br /&gt;ثم طلب منها أن ترتشف بعض القهوة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;سألت الفتاة&lt;br /&gt; ولكن ماذا يعني هذا يا أبي؟&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;فقال&lt;br /&gt; إعلمي يا ابنتي أن كلا من الجزر والبيضة والبن  واجه الخصم نفسه وهو المياه المغلية  لكن كلا منها تفاعل معها على نحو مختلف لقد كان الجزر قويا وصلبا  ولكنه ما لبث أن تراخى وضعف ، بعد تعرضه للمياه المغلية أما البيضة فقد كانت قشرتها الخارجية تحمي سائلها الداخلي لكن هذا الداخل ما لبث أن تصلب عند تعرضه لحرارة المياه المغلية&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt; أما القهوة المطحونه فقد كان رد فعلها فريدا  إذ أنها تمكنت من تغيير الماء نفسه  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;وماذا عنك ؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;هل أنت الجزرة التي تبدو صلبة  ولكنها عندما تتعرض للألم والصعوبات  تصبح رخوة طرية وتفقد قوتها ؟ &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;أم أنك البيضة ذات القلب الرخو  ولكنه إذا ما واجه المشاكل يصبح قويا وصلبا ؟   قد تبدو قشرتك لا تزال كما هي ولكنك تغيرت من الداخل فبات قلبك قاسيا ومفعما بالمرارة&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;أم أنك مثل البن المطحون  الذي يغيّر الماء الساخن حيث يجعله ذا طعم أفضل ؟&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فإذا كنت مثل البن المطحون فإنك تجعلين الأشياء من حولك أفضل إذا ما بلغ الوضع من حولك الحالة القصوى من السوء &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;فكري يا ابنتي كيف تتعاملين مع المصاعب  فهل أنت جزرة أم بيضة أم حبة قهوة مطحونة ؟&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8878456002878071299-8483249639404918102?l=stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/feeds/8483249639404918102/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8878456002878071299&amp;postID=8483249639404918102' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/8483249639404918102'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/8483249639404918102'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/2007/06/blog-post_27.html' title=''/><author><name>Emad Guihad Daoud</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07410978804418731040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/TAY3MoSJ7TI/AAAAAAAAACg/sdUnCe5Mwdg/S220/Me+and+Cookie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8878456002878071299.post-4350930639659249860</id><published>2007-06-20T05:49:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-20T06:07:00.011-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Thoughts from the Warrior of Light</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Sign&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once upon a time there was a wise man called Sidi Mehrez. He was very annoyed with the place where he lived, a beautiful town on the Mediterranean Sea where men and women lived in depraved fashion, and money was the only value that mattered. As Mehrez was also a saint and worked miracles, he decided to enfold Tunis in his long scarf and toss it into the ocean. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buildings began to tumble, the ground rose up, the inhabitants started to panic on seeing that they were being hurled towards their death. In despair, they decided to ask for help from a friend of Mehrez, called Sidi Ben Arous. Ben Arous managed to convince the strict saint to interrupt the destruction, but ever since then the streets of Tunis have been rough and uneven.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stroll through the bazaar of this African city, borne by the winds of this pilgrimage to celebrate the 20th anniversary of my first walk to Santiago in 1986. I am accompanied by Adam Fathi and Samir Benali, two local writers; fifteen kilometers away stand the ruins of Carthage, which in the remote past was capable of challenging powerful Rome. We discuss the epic of Hannibal, one of the city’s warriors: the Romans expected a sea battle (the two cities were separated only by a few hundred sea kilometers), but Hannibal braved the desert, crossed the straits of Gibraltar with an enormous army, marched through Spain and France, climbed the Alps with soldiers and elephants, and attacked the Empire from the North. He defeated all the enemies in his path and then suddenly, without anyone knowing exactly why, he stopped before Rome and did not attack it at the opportune moment. The result of this indecision was that Carthage was scored off the map by the Roman ships.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We pass by a beautiful building: in 1754, one brother murdered another and their father decided to erect this palace to house a school that would keep alive the memory of his murdered son. I comment that by doing so, the murdered son would also be remembered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“That’s not quite true,” answers Samil. “In our culture, the criminal shares the blame with all those who allowed him to commit the crime. When a man is executed, the one who sold him the arm is also responsible before God. The only way for the father to correct what he considered a fault was by changing the tragedy into something that can help others: instead of vengeance limited to punishment, the school has enabled instruction and wisdom to be transmitted for over two centuries.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On one of the doors of the old wall hangs a lantern. Fathi comments that I am a well-known writer, whereas he is still struggling for recognition:&lt;br /&gt;“Here we have the origin of one of the most famous of Arab proverbs: “light only illuminates strangers.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I reply that Jesus made the same comment: no-one is a prophet in his own country. We always tend to lend value to what comes from afar, without ever recognizing all the beauty that is around us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We go into an old palace that has been transformed into a cultural center. My two friends begin to explain to me the story of the place, but my attention is completely distracted by the sound of a piano and I begin to follow it through the labyrinths of the building. I end up in a room where a man and a woman, apparently oblivious to the world, are playing the “Turkish March” for four hands. I remember that some years ago I saw something similar – a pianist in a shopping center, engrossed in his music, paying no attention at all to the people who passed by talking loud or with their radios turned on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here there are only the three of us and the two pianists. I can see the expression on both their faces: joy, sheer and utter joy. They are not there to impress an audience, but rather because they feel that this is the gift that God has given them to talk with their souls. Likewise, the souls of Adam, Samil and Paulo also end up talking to one another, and we all feel closer to the meaning of life.&lt;br /&gt;We listened in silence for an hour. At the end we applauded, and when I returned to the hotel I thought for a while about that lantern.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, it may be that it only shines on the stranger, but what difference does that make when we are possessed by this vast love for what we do?&lt;br /&gt;Thank God the room is packed for my talk in this African country. I am to be introduced by two local intellectuals; we have met before - one of them has a two-minute text, the other has written a quarter-hour thesis on my work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The coordinator very carefully explains that it will be impossible to read the thesis, since the meeting is to last 50 minutes at most. I imagine how hard the intellectual must have worked on his text, but I think that the coordinator is right: I am there to talk to my readers, who are the main reason for the meeting.&lt;br /&gt;The lecture begins. The introductions last five minutes at most, so now I have 45 minutes for an open dialogue. I say that I am not there to explain anything and that it would be interesting to try to hold a dialogue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The first question comes from a young woman: what are the signs that I speak so much about in my books? I explain that this is an extremely personal language that we develop all through our life by making mistakes and getting things right, until we understand when God is guiding us. Somebody else asks if it was a sign that brought me to this far-off country. I answer yes, I have been on a 90-day journey to celebrate the 20th anniversary of my first pilgrimage to Santiago de Compostela.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation continues, the time passes quickly, and I have to bring the talk to an end. From amid 600 people I choose a middle-aged man with a bushy moustache to ask the final question.&lt;br /&gt;And the man says:&lt;br /&gt;“I don’t want to ask any questions. I just want to say a name.”&lt;br /&gt;And he says the name of a small hermitage located in the middle of nowhere thousands of kilometers from where I find myself, where one day I placed a plaque giving thanks for a miracle. And where I returned before this pilgrimage to ask the Virgin to protect my steps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I no longer know how to continue the meeting. The following words were written by Adam Fethi, one of the two writers who made up the table:&lt;br /&gt;“And suddenly the Universe in that room seemed to have stopped moving. So many things happened: I saw your tears. And I saw the tears of your sweet wife when that anonymous reader said the name of a chapel lost somewhere in the world.&lt;br /&gt;“You lost your voice. Your smiling face grew serious. Your eyes filled with timid tears that trembled on the edge of your eyelashes as if apologizing for being there without being invited.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“I was there too, feeling a knot in the throat and not knowing why. I looked for my wife and my daughter in the audience, they are the ones I always look for when I feel on the brink of something I don’t understand. They were there, but their eyes were fixed on you, silent like everyone else there, trying to lend you support with their eyes, as if eyes could support a man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“So I tried to concentrate on Christina, asking for help, trying to understand what was going on, how to end that silence that seemed infinite. And I saw that she too was crying, in silence, as if you were notes of the same symphony, as if your tears were joining the two of you despite the distance.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“And for long seconds there was no longer any room, no audience, nothing at all. You and your wife had parted to a place where no-one could follow you; all that existed was the joy of living all this, which was told only in silence and emotion.&lt;br /&gt;“Words are tears that have been written. Tears are words that need pouring out. Without them no joy can shine, no sadness can come to an end. So, thank you for your tears.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I should have told the young woman who asked the first question – about signs – that this was one of them, affirming that I found myself in the place where I should be, at the right moment, despite never properly understanding what took me there.&lt;br /&gt;But I think that was not necessary: she must have realized.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8878456002878071299-4350930639659249860?l=stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/feeds/4350930639659249860/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8878456002878071299&amp;postID=4350930639659249860' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/4350930639659249860'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/4350930639659249860'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/2007/06/thoughts-from-warrior-of-light.html' title='Thoughts from the Warrior of Light'/><author><name>Emad Guihad Daoud</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07410978804418731040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/TAY3MoSJ7TI/AAAAAAAAACg/sdUnCe5Mwdg/S220/Me+and+Cookie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8878456002878071299.post-3948667659508509013</id><published>2007-06-18T07:19:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-18T07:31:08.721-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Another Very Interesting Story</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;الحلوانى العجيب&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;قصة واقعية&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="color:#000066;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;كان العم بشاي الحلواني رجلاً أمينًا وبسيطًا للغاية، يسير بعربته التي ملأها بالحلوى في شوارع شبرا يبيع للأطفال، خاصة بجوار إحدى مدارس شبرا .&lt;br /&gt;كان العم بشاي محبًا للإنجيل، يأتيه بعض أصدقائه ليجالسوه فيقدم لهم إنجيله الذي لا يعر ف القراءة فيه، ويسألهم أن يقرءوا له منه بعض الفصول أو حتى بعض الفقرات .&lt;br /&gt;وفي أحد الأيام لاحظ العم بشاي أحد جيرانه قادمًا إليه من بعيد وقد ظهرت عليه علامات الارتباك الشديد، وفي هدوء شديد قال له العم بشاي :&lt;br /&gt;- سلام يا أخي .&lt;br /&gt;- سلام يا عم بشاي .&lt;br /&gt;- خيرًا !&lt;br /&gt;- كل الأمور تسير في خير، إنما السيدة أم مجدي تشعر بألم وتطلب منك إن أمكن أن تترك العربة لأحد أصدقائك وتذهب إليها .&lt;br /&gt;ارتبك العم بشاي قليلاً فقد ترك زوجته، أم مجدي، في الصباح حيث كانت تشعر بقليل من الألم، لكن لم يكن يظن أن الأمر فيه خطورة، فقد أخفت الكثير من آلامها وراء ابتسامتها الرقيقة وكلماتها العذبة معه ومع أولادهما الثمانية .&lt;br /&gt;رشم العم بشاي نفسه بعلامة الصليب، ورفع قلبه نحو السماء يصلي لأجل زوجته، ثم سار نحو بيته حيث وجد باب حجرته - في الدور الأرضي - مفتوحًا وقد التفت النساء الفقيرات حول زوجته المسكينة في الحجرة الوحيدة التي تعيش فيها كل العائلة . لقد اعتادت هؤلاء النسوة أن يزرن البيت ويأخذن معونة بسيطة من السيدة أم مجدي .&lt;br /&gt;إذ رأى الرجل هذا المنظر، خاصة وقد بدأت النسوة يعزينه في زوجته التي ماتت، تمالك نفسه قليلاً وفي هدوء طلب منهن أن يتركن الحجرة إلى حين ومعهن أولاده، ودخل الرجل حجرته ليقترب من زوجته الممتدة على السرير بلا نَفَس، جثة هامدة . في إيمان عجيب ركع العم بشاي، وهو يصرخ في بساطة قلب، قائلاً :&lt;br /&gt;" أنت أعطيتني يا رب ثمانية أولاد وأعطيتني هذه الزوجة عمودًا للبيت تربي أولادي ... فكيف تأخذها منا؟ من يستطيع أن يربي هؤلاء الأولاد؟ "&lt;br /&gt;انزرفت الدموع من عينيه بلا حساب وهو يعاتب اللَّه متمتمًا بكلمات غير مسموعة، وإذ هو غارق في دموعه سمع كلمات واضحة  : " لقد وهبت زوجتك خمسة عشرة عامًا كما فعلت قبلاً مع حزقيا الملك ". هنا استرد الرجل أنفاسه ليشكر اللَّه على عطيته ورعايته، ثم نادى النسوة أن يدخلن الحجرة وطلب منهن أن يقدمن لها طعامًا .&lt;br /&gt;في بساطة مملوءة إيماًنا، قال الرجل لزوجته : " يا أم مجدي قومي لتأكلي ..." وإذا بالسيدة تفتح عينيها وبعد دقائق صارت تأكل .&lt;br /&gt;خرج العم بشاي من بيته وهو يشكر اللَّه على عظيم رعايته، وإذ وجد أحد معارفه سأله أن يكتب له تاريخ اليوم في ورقة صغيرة ليضعها في محفظته  .&lt;br /&gt;مرت الأيام والسنين وإذا بالعم بشاي يشيخ وقد ربى أولاده الثمانية خلال عمله كبائع حلويات . وفي أحد الأيام جاءه رجل يقول له بأن أم مجدي مريضة جدًا . أخرج الرجل الورقة من محفظته وسأله أن يقرأ له التاريخ المكتوب عليها، وإذ عرف أنه قد مرت خمسة عشرة عامًا تمامًا أدرك أن وقت نياحتها قد حان، وعندئذ نزلت الدموع من عينيه وهو يسرع نحو بيته يقود عربة الحلوى .&lt;br /&gt;دخل الرجل حجرته حيث ارتمى بجوار السرير وهو يقول لزوجته :&lt;br /&gt;" وداعًا يا أم مجدي !وداعًا !&lt;br /&gt;أشكرك يا رب لأنك تركتها لي كل هذا الزمان لتربي أولادها وتعينني .&lt;br /&gt;الآن استريحي يا أم مجدي في الرب .&lt;br /&gt;اذكريني عند ربي يسوع المسيح !"&lt;br /&gt;ما أعذبك يا خالقي، .&lt;br /&gt;تهبني عذوبة وتهليلاً في حياتي اليومية .&lt;br /&gt;.وتمنحني سلامًا وبهجة في رحيلي .&lt;br /&gt;إن عشت فلك أعيش،&lt;br /&gt;وإن مت فلك أموت .&lt;br /&gt;أنت هو حياتي ومجدي الأبدي !&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:courier new;font-size:180%;color:#ff0000;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"بدونى لا تقدرون أن تفعلوا شيئا"&lt;br /&gt;" إن محبة العالم عداوة لله فمن أراد أن يكون محباً للعالم فقد صار عدوا لله"&lt;br /&gt;"خسرت كل الأشياء و أنا أحسبها نفاية لأربح المسيح وأوجد فيه"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8878456002878071299-3948667659508509013?l=stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/feeds/3948667659508509013/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8878456002878071299&amp;postID=3948667659508509013' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/3948667659508509013'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/3948667659508509013'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/2007/06/blog-post.html' title='Another Very Interesting Story'/><author><name>Emad Guihad Daoud</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07410978804418731040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/TAY3MoSJ7TI/AAAAAAAAACg/sdUnCe5Mwdg/S220/Me+and+Cookie.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8878456002878071299.post-159239748036737115</id><published>2007-06-16T11:30:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T11:44:47.059-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Welcome to Your Blog</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RnQu-r4DM3I/AAAAAAAAAAc/vheZ5_tar5Q/s1600-h/Picture+318.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076734334417974130" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RnQu-r4DM3I/AAAAAAAAAAc/vheZ5_tar5Q/s320/Picture+318.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Dear friends and beloved ones.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;i have decided to launch this blog for a totally different reasaon that Blogs were created for....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Blogs were created to help peopel share their thoughts on the internet in a simple and easy way...however this time i have decided to launch this blog to share your thoughts and ideas together, i will try to put new topics and i will ask you to comment on it and we will discuss it all together....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;this blog comes to serve mainly &lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="color:#663300;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;the THANAWY group of St. Markos Church Heliopolis&lt;/span&gt;,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; those guys whom i love and miss soooo much.....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I hope that you participate in my blog actively and we will share our life experiences together and reach out to our beloved Jesus...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;May God bless you all and welcome again to my blog...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Emad Daoud&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8878456002878071299-159239748036737115?l=stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/feeds/159239748036737115/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8878456002878071299&amp;postID=159239748036737115' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/159239748036737115'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8878456002878071299/posts/default/159239748036737115'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://stmarkoschurch.blogspot.com/2007/06/welcome-to-your-blog.html' title='Welcome to Your Blog'/><author><name>Emad Guihad Daoud</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07410978804418731040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/TAY3MoSJ7TI/AAAAAAAAACg/sdUnCe5Mwdg/S220/Me+and+Cookie.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp3.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RnQu-r4DM3I/AAAAAAAAAAc/vheZ5_tar5Q/s72-c/Picture+318.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8878456002878071299.post-5525565240314467724</id><published>2007-06-12T23:54:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2007-06-16T11:29:45.572-07:00</updated><title type='text'>ماذا يقول لنا الله اليوم</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RnP0Eb4DM2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/tGPNXNvFzwM/s1600-h/Picture+099.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5076669562016183138" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RnP0Eb4DM2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/tGPNXNvFzwM/s320/Picture+099.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"&gt;" مشتركين فى احتياجات القديسين . عاكفين على إضافة الغرباء " رو 13:12 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;بينما كان هذا الفلاح الذى يدعى فليمنج يعمل فى حقله سمع صرخات , فأسرع نحوها ليجد طفلاً مغروساً فى الطين حتى وسطه فأنقذه.&lt;br /&gt;فى اليوم التالى وقفت عربية ضخمة امام منزل هذا الفلاح البسيطو نزل منها أحد النبلاءليشكره على انقاذ أبنه و يحاولتقديم مكافأه ماليه له ,فشكره (فلمنج) و أعتذر عن قبول المكافأة لأن عمل الخير أمر طبيعى ينبغى أن يقوم به أى أنسان من أجل الله . فعرض هذا النبيل أن يتعلم أبن فلمنج مع أبنه و أن شاء الله سيكون عظيماً فى طباعه مثل أبيه فلمنج وأيضاً دارساً و متعلماً, و بعد إلحاح شديد قبل فلمنج ذلك .&lt;br /&gt;تخرج أبن فلمنج من كلية الطب و أستطاع أن يتخرع مادة البنسلين و هوالعالم (ألكسندر فلمنج) ثم مرض أبن هذا النبيل بألتهاب رئوى و تعرض للموت فأنقذة البنسلين . وهذا المريض الذى تعافى هو (وينستن تشيرشيل)&lt;br /&gt;رئيس وزراء بريطانيا أثناء الحرب العالمية الثانية.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;+ تعود أن تساعد كل إنسان يطلب منك مساعدته بل أسرع إلى ذلك و لاتعتذر بمعطلات الحياة لأنك بهذا تصير ابن السيد المسيح الذى يجول فى كل مكان يصنع خيراً.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="right"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;font-size:180%;"&gt;+ لا تنتظر مقابلاً للخير الذى تعمله لأنك بعمل الخير تتجاوب مع الله الذى أعطاك خيرات كثيرة , ولا تنزعج إذا نسى الناس ما عملته من خير معهم أو لم يشكروك , و حتى لو ردوا على خيرك بإساءات و إهانات , فالله قد وصلت إليه اعمال الخير التى عملتها و سيكافئك عليها , أما الذين لم يقدروا محبتك فأنهم محتاجون لصلواتك حتى يبعد الله عنهم الشيطان الذى يحاربهم , وقد تستطيع باستمرار محبتك أن تكسبهم فى النهاية لله فتفرح قلبه بخلاصهم...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div 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Daoud</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07410978804418731040</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='31' height='26' src='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/TAY3MoSJ7TI/AAAAAAAAACg/sdUnCe5Mwdg/S220/Me+and+Cookie.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://bp1.blogger.com/_cKzovbJeIRY/RnP0Eb4DM2I/AAAAAAAAAAU/tGPNXNvFzwM/s72-c/Picture+099.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
