The Christian village of Al Duwair is located northwest of Homs, on the Eastern Bank of the Orontes River in Syria. In May of last year, this peaceful village was savagely attacked by Islamic radical groups—including (Haqq brigade, Sunni Lions brigade , Jabhat Al Nusra, Free Liberation Army — Al Farroq brigade). See more
Recently, we have been in touch with a Christian brother who has been directly affected by persecution in Syria. He has suffered the greatest loss anyone can experience, his family. Below he shares of the fateful days that have changed his life for ever. VOP is asking for you to please keep our dear brother, Kamil in your prayers. And pray for the much needed peace in Syria. Lord have mercy on them.
In many cases we see tremendous acts of courage, bravery and fortitude in people being able to cope with terrible situations. Sadly true as long as there has been a true war, but what has happened is a barbaric action which is probably unavoidable even by brave people.
I am not going to delve into the whole scene there which is becoming common and clearly known for everyone, but I need to shed the light on some of the horrifying facts which happened on 28 May 13 in my Village ( Duwair).
On that date, my village was sentenced to death and destruction by the militants who ruined every part of village and massacred the peaceful residents savagely.
They did not come for freedom, they were not liberators or cause defenders, they were monsters in the true sense of the word, bigots injected with contempt and poisonous sectarianism. With all bitterness the victims were my family, my father and sister,” the peaceful angels” as I would call them. ”Every time, I phoned them to Syria, they replied, we are Ok and nothing to fear, do not worry about us, no one would harm us, we are peaceful people”. They were the scapegoat of the killers who massacred them with cold blood then burnt them with full disgrace. Was the small village rolled into the vortex of destruction for political reason? Absolutely No, It was attacked primarily for the sole reason of being neutral and peaceful without hiding the fact that most of the locals are Christians.
Words are insufficient to describe the extent to which my father was united with his land and home. He did not agree to leave his home despite the ongoing violence, fully convinced that the current turbulence is soon to end. He did not know that extremism would reach his home to blacken the white and make the black darker.
Undoubtedly, my father was a patriotic man, I got to remember all his talks when he was telling me that I have to return back home to continue my life in Syria and to care for our house who built tirelessly over the years and to water the olive trees whose leaves speak volumes about the hard work and determination. His story with the land is silent, comprehensive friendship, an intercourse beyond the need of words. Through the keen morning air, keeping time to the pulsing of the heart that is moved with the same eager desire—to conquer space, to devour the distance, to attain the goal of the journey. He entered with open eyes and brave heart the final stadium of the journey as he was always telling me: When your time comes to die, be not like those whose hearts are filled with fear of death, so that when their time comes they weep and pray for a little more time to live their lives over again in a different way. Sing your death song, and die like a hero.. He was peaceful as a dove, stronger than a stone, passionate than a mother.
Near the strong will father ,She scented the danger; it was not in her heart to fly from it—only to be prepared for it, and to meet it wisely, as a good daughter should do. The evil was close and silent as the tomb; not a leaf rustled, not a bird sang, Abeer disregarded every breath of anxiety and dismay and stood firmly with her father to say the final word .The words are endless to talk about the tender heart sister who became a mother after the death of my mother in 2009; her only concern was to take care of my father and looking after us even when we are away from home.; their only mistake was just sitting home peacefully?
Criminals came to extinguish the two beams of the sun, but let me assure you that their souls are still glittering like a rainbow in the sky and will not fade and die, for this reason, I would not say goodbye . God Bless their souls ever.
The unwritten rule of grief; Is it your turn to leave?
Aunt was killed by a terrorist explosion by the rebels in Homs Syria as on 6 March 14.
Some people can’t speak about it, where does it go? The body remembers everything. Excessive amounts of time and energy are spent trying to remember conversations once had, create the statements that were never voiced, or imagine reactions never received. These are heavy bricks to carry for endless days, months, or even years.
Did anyone hear the song of death? I hear it every day in Syria; I hear it sang by my beloveds, the death ghost is chasing them everywhere, saints are followed by demons. Resting in heaven peacefully easing my mind but with conflicting thoughts that often leave much pain in a heart filled with agonies following their martyrdom. She missed them; she missed her brother and her niece and was her time to leave. She left quickly without a goodbye; she left with no remembered sigh. It can be more challenging to remember so-pleasant memories of the time you had with your family and relatives who passed away but the clock ticking hours and days to receive the shocking waves. Today my aunt passed away and May God rest her soul in heaven to light the way.
Most Death incidents help us mourn the loss of a loved one, how to cope with yearning, how to adapt to the emptiness following the death of someone so significant in your life that the mere thought of living without them feels incredibly overwhelming and incapacitating.
.I realized I saw her face today .In the sparkle of the morning sun ,And then I heard the angel say “Her work on earth is done”
I thought that she had left us For the stars so far above ,And then I heard the angel say “She left you with her love”
I thought that I would miss her And never find my way. And then I heard the angel say, “She’s resting with your father and sister away”
May God Rest her soul in peace.
Written by a Christian brother who has been directly affected by persecution in Syria. He has suffered the greatest loss anyone can experience, his family. The persecution of his family was a turning point in his life. He realized the need the truth about what’s happening in Syria.
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