A day trip traveling throughout the holy city of Bethlehem

Our day trip began before dawn awoke. A waning moon and a scatter of stars danced across the surface of the Sea of Galilee as we drove from Tabgha toward Jerusalem. Sunrise was still an hour away, yet the clouds had already begun to blush pink. Living below sea level gives us this quiet gift: we see the colors of morning before we see the sun itself.

As we wound south, the Sea of Galilee narrowed and reshaped itself into the Jordan River, which meandered alongside us like a patient companion. Date palm plantations encircled Jericho, standing watch like gentle sentinels over the desert floor. Above it all, the Judean Mountains rose in solemn contrast to the lowlands below. We climbed steadily toward Jerusalem, crossing above sea level, until the Golden City finally revealed itself. Just outside Jaffa Gate, we met the monks of Dormition Abbey—and from there, continued on to Bethlehem.

Our journey into the West Bank was shaped by purpose. We were visiting several non-governmental organizations (NGOs) supported by the Dormition Abbey’s Christmas fundraising campaign—groups that also bring the youth they serve to Beit Noah. Beit Noah is a retreat center at Tabgha Monastery, designed with accessibility and care at its heart. Its grounds include playground equipment, mini golf, table tennis, a fire pit, a natural spring-fed swimming pool and carefully tended gardens—gardens I know well from my own handiwork. While many groups pass through Beit Noah, this visit was about reconnecting with our Palestinian partners who have been unable to return there for two, three, even five years.

We visited four NGOs in Bethlehem, each dedicated to supporting Palestinian children and young adults with disabilities or special needs. The sites differed in structure—some educational and vocational, others residential and supportive—but all shared a common loving spirit. Our first visit was to LifeGate, the largest of the four. Here, children and young adults are met with dignity, care and love. Art therapy forms the heart of their work: painting, ceramics, woodworking and more. Through these creative practices, the youth produce items sold in LifeGate’s shop, transforming expression into livelihood. Education and vocational training further ground their path toward independence.

Our second and third visits, to L’Ama and Niños Dios, were more residential in nature. These spaces offered structure, learning and a rhythm of daily life balanced with time for play and laughter. The children we met were vibrant—restless with energy and eager to connect. We played together, laughed together and shared moments of unguarded joy before continuing on to our final stop.

L’Arche, our last visit, is a vocational community centered on art therapy through traditional felting. Using sheep’s wool, children and young adults create ornaments, keychains, manger scenes and bottle bags. The work is slow, tactile and rooted in tradition. These were patience, and careful crafts shaped by human hands.

Throughout the day, one longing echoed across every site: a desire to return to Tabgha and Beit Noah. It was more than nostalgia—it was a deep, collective yearning. Coordinators and youth alike spoke of that place as paradise. A place where laughter spills across playgrounds, where the pool offers relief from the heat, where birdsong fill the gardens and time seems gentler. Tabgha was not just remembered; it was calling them to return. Because these organizations are registered with the Palestinian Authority, they must apply for permits to cross into Israel to reach Tabgha. Since the escalation of violence in 2023, every request has been denied since. Still, each group spoke with resolve. They will continue to apply and asked for our prayers. It is here I learned, hope is practiced with persistence and patience. I learned much about their programs, but even more about what sustains them. It was a privilege to witness such deep devotion and radiant resilience. Each site stood as a beacon, hope, joy and steadfast faith. Even despite challenging times. One director said, “God is not stingy, so we provide beyond what we expect.” We were welcomed with warmth and generosity, for our brief visits. This gave me hope for the warmth and generosity they provide to those they support. These communities are engaged in the daily work of rehumanization—insisting that these children are more than files or numbers. They are people with names, faces, laughter and light. Light that no barrier nor permit denial can extinguish. It a light that is simply, divine intervention.