This is a personal spoken word piece dedicated to moments I spent as a child with my grandmother. My grandmother is a child of the Nakba, the Palestinian “catastrophe” that exiled out over 700,000 Palestinians in 1948. In this piece, childhood observations are made of my grandmother’s longing for her homeland, family and safety. The piece explores first-hand accounts of the everyday life of being a child of diaspora, such as the significance of specific foods and cultural dishes, intergenerational conflicts created in the home, and inner conflictions felt around one’s faith. The piece makes space for the mundane innocence of childhood, with the striking reality of generational disruptions that stems from the displacement of one’s sense of cultural rootedness, language, faith and homeland.