These articles are collections sent to us from the Mashgharian Joseph Charara. These articles do not necessarily reflect the view of The Mashghara Benevolent society-Ottawa.
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To be or not to be........
"Shakespeare" July 20, 2002
I often relished a Shakespearean play but this is too good to overlook.
And the curtains open, the main players seeping one by one on the stage and
taking their correct positions, all in sync, all in harmony, on cue, ready to do
the job.
Now that I got your attention........
The question is... Is the glass half full or half empty??? I guess
it all depends on how much you need to drink! The fact is that Mashghara
has become a ghost town as many had described it and that is no fault of anyone
in particular, facing the problem and talking about it should not be silenced if
we were to correct and tackle this issue. I definitely feel with our
younger generation that we left behind and the state of despair they are
feeling. We have felt almost the same way even back when Mashghara was
booming in today’s standards. The fact the war had its toll on this town
and years of illegal occupation by invaders or the homeless from neighboring
towns should not always be the scapegoat to all of our chagrins.
We must look beyond that now and move forward. Which brings me to the
issue of municipality (baladya). For those of us who had the opportunity
to work or run a company regardless of size, understand the need for the
administrative section of any business to run successfully, let alone a town
with many residents and businesses that had no administrative responsibilities
or accountability for years.
The municipality works day and night to keep Mashghara a beautiful and clean
town , thus making its citizens proud and enabling its guests to enjoy the
beauty and serenity of this town.
The main responsibility of the Municipality is the continuous development of the
infrastructure of the City, yet it also takes great interest in the cultural and
artistic activities, by funding and participating in the many events that take
place throughout the year, all year long not only in the summer.
Creating activities for the young and the old, supporting a Library where
students could go learn and meet others of the same interests. To
encourage the many hidden talents Machgharanians are known to have but those
talents are left un-nourished to die slowly.
The Social Planning and Administrative Services provide planning
leadership in the operationalizing of the goals and mission of the Social
Services Department including a quick response plan to the immediate needs
of the residents. The municipality seeks to support people and strengthen the
community by identifying/responding to community needs, providing direct support
to the town, analyzing social trends & developing social policy responses,
social planning and system modeling to name a few.
I don’t want to bore you with too many details, but unfortunately the problem
is not going to be solved by simply encouraging more visitors to Mashghara or
renovating a house or two every year, the solution requires much more work to be
done from the grass roots up. The bad news is that no one is doing
anything, The good news is that it could be done and every one has the desire to
do something.
"Job well done and the curtains close, lights off the stage. You can
go home now"
Thank you for reading.
joseph charara ohiousaman@aol.com July
20, 2002
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HOPE March
14, 2002
When by my solitary self I sit....
Hateful thoughts engulf me a bit.
When the world around me is moonlit ....
It’s so cold that my fingers are frostbit.
Then the bare basics of life presents no bloom....
It’s a constant reminder of a doomed tomb.
When I’m told a fearful tale of sorrow....
Anger, cries, and tears soak into my pillow.
When the day is done and darkness sits in....
I see the lights of my village grim.
Hope, Future, Happiness, and pain....
A mere Imagination of the brain.
By all logic may not be understood....
But to me it’s the beacon of human good.
Sadness, Illness, Poverty and Age....
Will always be remembered with rage.
Hope is always there to save....
The despaired inching towards the grave.
Hope can make you feel just....
A future unknown but humbled in the dust.
Hope is a test of patience under the pain....
But, lost once we begin to complain.
Hope is the nourishment that feeds the mind....
It has always been the refuge of mankind.
Hope for years, a thousand times have died....
To blossom again like a flower on a river side.
Sweet hope I look up to you with pride....
For all the comfort you will always provide.
Joseph Charara ohiousaman@aol.com
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Another Holliday went by again.
Eid Mubarak to all. and many more for years to come.......
REMEMBER WHEN:
When it took forever from one Holiday to another.....
Mother was at home when the kids got home from school.... The family pet
was a cat that stayed outside, when a quarter was a decent allowance and a
whole "Lira" (Dollar) meant financial independence, were you happy when you
found a "Franc" (5 cents) on the street? Your male teachers wore ties
and jackets and your female teachers had their hair done.
Do you remember..... When it was considered a great privilege to be taken out to dinner at a real restaurant with your parents and siblings; when the worst
thing you could do at school is flunk a test or get caught chewing gum; the worst thing you can catch from the opposite sex was an innocent smile; when
you did not have a home key because someone was always home, and the door was left unlocked.
Remember playing ball behind the house without having to collect expensive baseball cards; lets go back for a moment before the internet, Sega,
Nintendo, Play station one, two and three on the way.... back when hide
and seek at dusk was a true game, kick the can in the alley till the street lights came on and you knew it was time to go home. Did your grandmother tell
you endless stories? or you had your DVD plugged directly into your ears?
Remember Halloween... You were thankful for whatever you were given, but never had to check your apples for razor blades in them; when stuff from the
little store came without safety caps and hermetic seals because no one had yet tried to poison a perfect stranger. When anyone over 20 was old; could
not wait till I was tall enough to reach the gas pedal of the family car; now I am too big to get in the family van...
Remember when all of Mashghara celebrated all holidays of both religions....
When we rushed to the mountain on "Nabi Day" to watch older kids light
tires. We have come a long way since, don’t you wish you could slip back in time and
relive the slower pace just once more and share it with your children today.
Remember chasing grass hoppers and butterflies in the summer but never catching any; Christmas morning; the morning drums of Ramadan; your first
day in school; picking apples or figs from a tree; getting an ice cream
for a dime, a sandwich for a quarter and a Pepsi for fifteen cents; climbing a neighbor’s tree; getting mosquito bites; jumping on the sofa; pillow fights;
running till you were out of breath; your stomach hurt from laughing so hard with friends not from a bleeding ulcer; driving the nuns crazy; and being
sent to the principal’s office was nothing compared to the fate that awaited a misbehaving student at home, basically we were in fear for our lives, but
it wasn’t because of drive by shootings, drugs, gangs, etc... Our parents were a much greater threat... But we all survived because their love was
greater than that threat.
Remember when scrapes and bruises were brushed off without a lawsuit; horsing around with your friends at the school yard did not involve the justice
department or family lawyers. Getting a foot of snow on a school day was a dream come true. Shoveling the snow for your elderly neighbor for a simple
thank you was a joy not a chore because you were just happy being out playing in the snow. Spinning around, getting dizzy and falling down was cause for
giggles; a rubber band and a rolled piece of paper was the ultimate weapon, till the introduction of the 25 cents water pistol. well I remember... and
I remember all of you who shared those moments......
Did it feel good just to go back and say ... I remember... ???
There’s nothing like the good old days....
The fact is that they were good then and they are good now when we think about them...
Share some of these thoughts with your children, nephews and nieces.
This maybe the most precious gift you can give them...
Joseph Charara ohiousaman@aol.com
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Joseph Charara had this article published Ohio's local paper 27 Jan 2002
KNOWLEDGE IS POWER
Mankind alone with the exception to the other creatures has the talent of real knowledge and the scientific differentiation between a knowledge that
helps and a knowledge that has no need nor necessity. Mankind also has the will and power to judge himself and to learn from previous mistakes. The
talents of man the creature and creator, whether in the stage of gathering food or in the stage of preparing that food is the center of establishing the
foundation to delegate the vitality of the ongoing evolution. The human reaches his hopes and wants through the civility of his culture, whether in
the arts, sciences, or philosophies to adopt for the purpose of victory for the truth and justice working toward the establishment of life through the
living leaving behind any deceit and delusion. Truth could never be assumed to be the result of some theory without any basis. The truth is being and the
knowledge of that existence, "knowledge that does not benefit is the same
as the ignorance that does not hinder". What knowledge often reveals of our
existence of what mankind possesses of intellectual capacities and mental powers, that knowledge is based on clear evidence which could never be
clouded by suspicion or ignorance. Being convinced of the knowledge and the truth is the constant driving force behind any expansion of the knowledge
itself, and human advancement. We can therefore conclude that "the society
is knowledge and knowledge is power" which could never be defeated nor limited
to a space and time or a certain subject. The truth is always the basis for any justice, it is the center of any advancement of the intelligent human by
depending on understanding and being understood and the creative coexistence and tolerance to reach his goals.
JOSEPH CHARARA
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Mashghara yesterday, today and tomorrow......
Yesterday was the past, a fact but not desired...
A reality, painful but memories remembered...
Memories cherished, some painful but mostly adored and some locked away....
Let us Learn and grow from them, they brought us to the present and far
away...
Today is the present...
I awoke with a feeling of peace
I awoke with a smile in my eyes
And now I want to share this peace with you
Live each day for you and remember to dream
Live each day, learn to feel safe and secure again
Live life and walk towards the future
Tomorrow is the future...Your dreams, fantasies and realities are one
It is an unknown path you face every tomorrow
Your choices make your tomorrow
As they did yesterday
You turn your dreams into reality and wipe away the sorrow
At this moment...Mashghara today, harsh but yet soft,
wants you to achieve your goal
Mashghara, after the snow, full of warmth to hold you close to her heart
My heart tells me from "harit alfawka la harit altahta" about our
common soul
My heart, full of passion and love, ready to forgive and forget...
In time...The past will be healed, loyalty and trust will flourish again
Mashghara will be filled with laughter, happiness and love again
The future will be discovered not alone and dreams shared again
Grow young with your chosen one, life will begin with every sunrise again
and again
Sad eyes, blue like the lake, and happy like no other
A smile, crying to explode into laughter
Hugs, full of warmth and healing treasured forever
Mashghara Forever, a bond always tested but never broken
Mashghara Forever, a connection built with love but still unspoken
Mashghara Forever, not always together but connected and unshaken
Always - loved, cherished and adored by me
Always - You showed me the meaning of self respect and dignity
Always - You are a "gift" to be treasured until eternity
Always- with me when I close my eyes
Always- with you when I open my eyes...
Always- together forever, and until forever I close my eyes....
Joseph Charara
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I dedicate this to my late childhood friend camil.
Joseph Charara
Sweet
Mashghara.
Sweet Mashghara loveliest village of the plain,
where health and plenty cheered the laboring swain.
your blooming spring its earliest visit paid,
and parting summer's apple orchards delayed.
Dear village of innocense and ease,
Seats of my youth, when every moment could please.
How often, have I ran down your alley,
Where humble happiness kept us in the valley.
How often have I paused on every charm,
Looked at villagers cultivate their farm.
Your water spring operating round stones in the wheat mill,
Right below the church and school that top the hill.
While many passed their time beneath the shade,
The young played and the old surveyed.
Sweet virgin love but you can't see its face,
While secret laughter snickered around the place.
How happy he who lived in times like these,
A youth of labor and an ageless love at ease.
Sweet was the sound when the day closes,
Sweeter was the smell of village roses.
I long for scenes where men never stopped,
A place where women always smiled & hardly wept.
I long the landscape drawn in grape monotone,
There's something in my very blood I own.
Bare hills in cold winters but the sky is blue,
Plenty of water, sun rays, flowers blossomed and birds flew.
We lived happy between the months of cherries and peaches
Then soon came the frosty river beaches.
The scenes are instilled in the marrow of my bones,
Looking back at the "KROOM" fenced with stones.
Summer was so much too beautiful to stay,
Then came those skies, their blue or snowy gray.
My home where once the garden smiled,
Then for years the thorns grew wild.
There was a few torn shrubs my home disclosed,
Along the lawn, dirt, rocks, the trash rose.
When our world turned completely upside down,
We said let's emigrate far away from this town.
We'll live among the civilized on the western shore,
Scattered from scotia, to Vancouver, to Baltimore.
After the confusion sweet memories still in the shade,
Cuts deep down my throat like a sword's blade.
Now the sounds of population fall,
Can't tell the difference between summer and fall.
All the bloomy flesh of life has fled,
We left young widows searching for bread.
A young man was to his Mashghara dear,
He is an unknown face in the land of deer.
A broken soldier wouldn't dare to stay,
Sits by the fire and talks the night away.
He crutches in his bed like and innocent child and sleeps,
But, for the lost years, memories of a dead childhood friend he weeps.
Joseph Charara