Salam Tamim Abu Ma'mar

My dearest loss, who was true to her name: a peace upon the earth. She departed in peace; her spirit was cheerful, holding no hatred or grudges. Her soul was like a child's; whenever she saw a flower, she would rush toward it, delighted. The occupation killed her along with her father, her mother, and her princess sisters, Shams al-Huda and Mays. Her brothers Yahya and Abd al-Rahman are all that is left of her family. Salam, like all girls her age, wanted to live. She wanted to be saved from death. She once told me that she was afraid of death, and of the thought of being under the rubble. Her greatest dream was to die in one piece, but her dream did not come true. We pulled her out from under the rubble as people around her chanted, "Shahida! Shahida!" [Martyr! Martyr!]. Your body is gone, Salam, but you are still alive within us. Your pure soul hovers around us always. Salam, my uncle, his wife, and his daughters departed, leaving us with a long film of deep memories that brings tears to our eyes whenever we remember them.