The Sky Remembers Once, there were homes here. Children’s voices, laughter spilling from windows, mothers calling them home for dinner… Now, only silent walls and unfinished lives remain. But she still looks toward the sky. A string in her small hands, a kite carrying the colors of Palestine at its end… Red, black, white, and green; a childhood rising into the sky above the ruins. Perhaps that kite cannot bring her home back. Perhaps it cannot rebuild the walls that have fallen. But it can tell the sky: “We are still here.” And as the kite rises, so does a child’s dream. Above the streets silenced by war, above the memories of those who were lost, above the soil of Palestine… Because some lands do not live only on maps. They live in the dreams of their children. The Sky Remembers The sky does not forget. The land does not forget. Children do not forget.