When I think of my grandfather, I see the a man who had to go through hell in order to succeed. When I think of my grandfather, I see a man who had to understand the hardships of poverty, being alone, and fear of losing his life. He was a great man and I admire him for his courage and perseverance.

Ziad Miqdadi, my grandfather, may God bless his soul, lived like a prince in Palestine. Imagine a person who has a lot of money, his family is pretty much the boss of the town in which he lived in, had many houses where travelers would stay and be welcomed in, first to own a car in the town, and on top of that he was a body builder. And then imagine all that wealth ripped from you in a matter of a few hours. Imagine all that wealth and power taken away from you because someone was too greedy to share the land. Not a pleasant feeling is it?
In 1948 the war between Palestine and Israel began and my grandfather’s family had to escape for fear of being trapped and killed. Now, the original plan was to leave the house that they were living in for a little bit and then return when it was safe. But, when that plan was deemed impossible, they went to Jordan and tried to settle. They started a business that they thought was going to help them get money to live in Jordan. Unfortunately, the business did not give them much and so they had to go somewhere else. They stayed in Jordan for a few more months and then moved to Lebanon where they started a new business there. When they found that they could make a decent amount of money in Lebanon they stayed there and hoped things would go well for them.

My grandfather, who was just 18 when his family fled, was boarding in a boarding high school in Great Britain, where he went to study. When my grandfather’s family was still living in Palestine they were paying for my grandfathers tuition. But when they fled they didn’t have enough for themselves, so they could not pay for his tuition. It was difficult for my grandfather to transition to having to pay for his own tuition. My grandfather got a job as a towel boy in the gym that he and his friends went to. He was basically working for his friends whom he had previously surpassed in terms of being fit. After he finished high school, he joined his family in Lebanon and helped them build their business even more. He did whatever he could to help his family stay in business. He worked outside telling people to buy goods; he worked inside at the cashier or organizing goods. My grandfather even went as far as to give up his dream in order to help his family succeed. He had received a scholarship to go to the United States in order to study engineering. He chose to stay with his family and support them until the end.

He worked for his family for a couple years and then his family decided that the best way for them to get money was to for him to work in Saudi Arabia. An oil company in Saudi Arabia called Saudi Aramco had just started and was looking for workers. He signed up to go and they accepted him. This was in the 50’s so air conditioning had not been introduced to Saudi Arabia yet. Imagine having to stand outside in 120 degree weather on a regular basis counting iron metal under the scorching sun. My grandfather did that for about four years until his friend found him an indoor teaching job. My grandfather spent the better part of his twenties teaching and sending all the money he earned back to his family in Lebanon; leaving so little for himself to be able to actually live in Saudi Arabia the heart of Islam.

When his family decided that the money he was sending them was enough for them to live happily, they sent my grandfather’s sister to tell him to come back. When she arrived in Saudi Arabia she could just barely recognise him. You might remember from previously that my grandfather had been a bodybuilder. While moving, working to make a living for himself and his family, and not being able to train my grandfather had lost all of about 90 pounds or more under the scorching heat of the Arabian Peninsula. Imagine a guy starting in Saudi Arabia with a huge build and then after 10 or so years under the sun and running around after kids was reduced skin and bones. I don’t know about you but in my mind that is not pretty image.

My grandfather returned to Lebanon with his sister and continued to help his family with their business. At the age of 29 got married to Ibtisam. After 11 years of marriage and having five kids, my grandfather, grandmother, and their five kids all moved to Morocco to start again. When my mom was just eighteen years old and her father a youngish age of 58, my grandfather was stabbed in the stomach and was killed instantly. There was mourning and grief, but my family stuck together and things were alright. Almost all of my aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents still live in Morocco to this day. My parents, siblings, and I occasionally go to Morocco to visit my relatives and enjoy the love and caring that we all have for each other
One day a man named Hassan and woman names Amina saw each other in a sports club. These two people are my parents. They met in Morocco. The families of both my mother and father joined together to discuss the decision of my parents getting married. My father had just returned from a study session in America. My mother was 19 and my father 24 the day they got married. They moved the day after they got married to the US. After two years of living in America my mother had my sister, Rayhan, in Buffalo, New York. She had my brother, Munther, in St. Paul, Minnesota, and me, Tesneem, in Cambridge, Massachusetts. My family liked it here so we stayed hoping not to move again and abandon our friends like others before us.

I sometimes think that my life is hard and that it’s difficult to move on in life and let things go. But when I think of my grandfather and compare, I realise that my life is definitely easier life than his was. I don’t have to work for my family and give everything to them. I don’t have to stand under the sun for hours at a time, counting metal so that I could help feed my family and yet sometimes I feel that I have it hard. I wish I have the commitment and perseverance that my grandfather had. I wish that somehow his courage and bravery has been passed down to me, but something tells me that I inherited no such qualities. I look back at my life and see all the mistakes I have made and wish that they could go away and leave me in peace. Many times I faced the fear of the possibility of being alone, I may or may not have shown courage during those times but the memory of my grandfather’s story reminds me that hardship will pass and if I’m going through hell, I should keep going. In these moments I overcome the fear and face to day with my head high. My mother constantly tells me that I’m doing the hardest thing that a Muslim could do. I am one in three muslims in the school and I have to represent the entire Muslim community with my actions. When the times get hard, I think of my grandfather, I think of courage and bravery and am suddenly reminded that the hardship will end one day and I can finally be at peace with myself.