JERUSALEM – When Samira Dajani’s family moved into their first real home in 1956 after years as refugees, her father planted trees in the garden, naming them for each of his six children.
Today, two towering pines named for Mousa and Daoud stand watch over the entrance to the garden where they all played as children.
Pink bougainvillea climbs an iron archway on a path leading past almond, orange and lemon trees to their modest stone house. “The Samira tree has no leaves,” she says, pointing to the cypress that bears her name. “But the roots are strong.” She and her husband, empty nesters with grown children of their own, may have to leave it all behind on Aug.