First thought, best thought.
—Allen Ginsberg8 MARCH—My first thought as Marwa, my guide and interpreter, drove us away from a tiny two-room kindergarten in the remote West Bank village of al–Mughayyir was one I blurted out loud: “I’m going to raise money to build a playground for those kids. Are you willing to help me?” She nodded. And she did.
That was in the final week of May 2024. Two months later and back in the U.S., I published an account of my unsettling encounter with the kindergartners—“‘Soldiers! Soldiers! Soldiers!’”—and launched a GoFundMe campaign, made successful by generous donations from many of our readers.
It is now my great delight to share with you the happy news that the playground is finally finished, as of the second week in February. To all who made this possible: Shukran. Thank you. I waited for photographs of the children at play before publishing this update.
As you might imagine, given the situation in Occupied Palestine, this project did not always go smoothly. There were significant delays, long months when nothing happened as checkpoints were closed and violence erupted. Including the first war against Iran. For nearly six months we waited for the play equipment to be delivered. The supplier, we learned, had imported it from China. It was sitting in an Israeli port and would not be released. The money was returned, all of it, and we found another vendor.
From start to finish this project was a lesson in something almost entirely missing in the United States: Trust. Trust in other people. Trust that, working together, something good can be realized even in the most difficult of circumstances.
I’m calling this radical trust.
Why radical? Consider some synonyms: far-reaching, thorough, profound. And: revolutionary. The Latin origin radix—“root” in the botanical meaning—means the foundation, source, or origin of something. Trust is assuredly the foundation of all meaningful human relationships and endeavors. Two other closely related words— and synonyms for revolutionary—include unorthodox and imaginative. Far-reaching indeed when you consider the impacts of this project: for the children a little happiness, for the parents the same knowing their children are happier—and knowing others outside of Palestine see them and care. For the community it’s an expression of solidarity.
Unorthodox and imaginative problem solving is a necessity in the West Bank, where finding ways to accomplish the impossible while flying beneath the radar are necessary skills. Everything depends upon trust. Personal safety and liberty are not infrequently at stake because anything that supports community, anyone who works to build and strengthen Palestinian community, can be targeted.
My project partners, who deserve recognition, must of necessity remain anonymous.
It’s difficult getting money into the West Bank. The money we raised was funneled through a contact in al–Khalil (aka, Hebron). This person managed the process and then held the funds for nearly 18 months as it was disbursed.
A woman from a tiny village near Ramallah made four trips to al–Khalil to pick up each of the four disbursements—in cash—and carry them north. Every trip in the West Bank entails difficulties and dangers. Carrying cash is a danger all its own—especially if a person is searched by occupation soldiers.
Yet other partners were members of a long-established and highly regarded civil-society group that Israel designated a terrorist organization in 2021—part of its demonic project to shred Palestinian society and life by all means imaginable. These women take personal risks—unthinkable in the West—to provide services for children and women in rural areas. One of my fondest memories is meeting them at a Ramallah coffeehouse.
From start to finish this project was held together and accomplished on trust. And the trust of which I write is a connection and bond between people spread across continents. Every person who made a donation did so on trust—trust that doesn’t stop now that the playground is finished, but that will reverberate into the future.
The playground transformed the kindergarten. It has and will touch and shape the life of every child who uses it. The smiles you see in these pictures—rare smiles indeed—are proof of that.
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The picture below shows the kindergarten as it was before the construction began. The adjacent vacant lot (right photo) is the site of the playground.
The finished project included repairs to the kindergarten’s roof and bathroom, a new septic tank, concrete work, a sunshade, artificial grass, outdoor play equipment, and indoor educational board games.
Al–Mughayyir endures frequent attacks by settlers and soldiers. In 2025 two teenaged boys were martyred in separate shootings, one of which I reported on here. That same year nearly all of its agricultural land was stolen—over 42,000 dunams (the equivalent of 10,380 acres) of farm and grazing land, olive orchards, vineyards, wheat fields, almond tress, greenhouses, and more. An estimated 3,000 olive trees were uprooted during a major military incursion at the end of August, as reported here. During that same operation a road was carved through the farmland to a hilltop overlooking the village where a new settlement is under construction.
The picture below shows one of the two kindergarten’s classrooms after soldiers ransacked it in the August military raid. Appreciate anew the miracle of a playground in this environment.
The day-to-day experience of these children is one of fear, anxiety, and the constant threat of violence. The smiles you see on these faces are all the more precious. The kindergarten’s FaceBook page is full of videos showing children learning and at play—smiling and laughing. I encourage you to take a few minutes and look at it; click on any video with artificial grass to see the playground. You can watch two of my favorites here and here. Another fun video shows the transformation of the playground as the equipment is installed. And enjoy the Arabic music!
The following message was appended to a post on the school’s Facebook page when the playground was completed. I’ve taken small liberties with the translation and will let this expression of gratitude stand as this piece’s final words:
We extend our sincere thanks and appreciation to all the donors and people who contributed and provided play equipment for our wonderful kindergarten. We thank you from the bottom of our hearts for your unlimited dedication and giving. Your efforts have been a catalyst for achievement and are a symbol of sincerity. We cherish what you have given and its positive impact. May Allah place it in the balance of your good deeds.
Published previously at Winter Wheat and West Bank Alerts.
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This is such good news, Cara . . . thank you. Blessings to you and to the people of al-Mughayyir.
A happy story, and very rare one, to come out of the OPT! If only there were more ...