Na’ama, Na’im and the Wall

Na’ama’s yard has a wall,

A tall, grey wall.

“An ugly wall,” Na’ama thinks,

“An orange tree I will plant,

Right there!”

So she says, so she does:

Cleans, hoes, plants, waters –

And waits for the right time to harvest an orange.

Na’im’s yard has a wall –

A tall, grey wall.

“An ugly wall,” Na’im thinks,

“A pear tree I will plant,

Right there!”

So he says, so he does:

Cleans, hoes, plants, waters –

And waits for the right time to harvest the pears.

The days pass by, the trees grow high.

Na’ama waters the orange tree.

Na’im waters the pear tree.

One day, on both treetops

Wonderful fruit shows up.

Na’ama climbs up her tree,

Reaching out for the fruit.

Suddenly the wind blows,

Snatching her shiny fruit away.

What will Na’ama do now?

Na’ama cries and weeps.

Nothing happens, the orange is still out of reach.

Na’ama stomps her feet,

Which doesn’t help even a bit.

Then she wipes off the tears

Shakes off the fears,

And calls:

“Hello! Is anyone out there?”

Then, from the other side,

A little hand holds out

A golden fruit,

Along with

a smile, kind and warm

for the new Peace/Shalom/Salam

that Na’ama and Na’im

have just begun.