At Zaytoun Church is where I long to be today, in my beloved Damascus, Syria — 

I love it not only because it was where my parents were married and where I was baptized but because of all the special moments that took place there. I recall the candles flickering outside the church on Palm Sunday. I remember everyone dressed in their holiday best, walking in a procession as worshipers carried an icon of Jesus and the cross. And most precious are Easter Sunday mornings when my parents gifted decorated eggs and holiday chocolates to our Muslim neighbors and their families. How I long for these days of family, friends, and worship in the town where I grew up.

I know that I will one day, when I'm safely allowed back into Syria, take my daughters there to visit my church and to tell them the stories of my youth and the stories of where I grew up.