Mackenzie, Lost and Found. Deborah Kerbel

arms, babbling and fingerpainting her round cheeks with the leftover hummus. As messy as she was, her older siblings couldn't help kissing her.

      By the time the table was cleared, it was getting late. One by one, Mama began carrying the sleepy girls to their bed. Once they were alone, Mr. Hadad pulled Nasir aside to talk.

      "There's something I'd like to speak to you about," he said, motioning for his son to join him on the couch — the same couch that would be Nasir's bed in just a few more hours. Nasir sat down beside him, guessing from the low hang of his father's eyebrows that this was going to be serious. He was right.

      "I don't know if you've overheard Mama and me talking about it, but our family in Askar is in real trouble. Your grandparents' health is not good, and your aunt has just lost her job. They need our help. We have to start sending more money."

      Nasir nodded. He knew that their relatives in the West Bank had a terrible life. Compared to the way they lived over there, their own tiny apartment in Jerusalem was luxurious. Ever since Nasir could remember, his parents had been sending money to support them.

      "I know you've been helping out with your salary from the store," he continued. "But it's just not enough."

      Nasir nodded again. "What do you want me to do?"

      Baba leaned his head close to his son's and lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper. Clearly, he didn't want Mama to hear what he was about to say. But that would be difficult. Their apartment was too small to keep many secrets — a fact that was made embarrassingly clear to Nasir every few nights when noises from his parents' room travelled through the walls and into his mortified ears.

      "I've found a way to make some extra money," he whispered. "I'm going to need your help and strong arms to do it. It's going to mean hard work and late hours — you might have to miss some soccer games."

      Nasir watched his father's eyes moisten with sadness as he spoke. Baba had grown up in Askar, moving to Jerusalem only after his parents arranged his marriage to Mama, who was already an Israeli citizen. Because of the tight border regulations, he'd only been back to visit them a handful of times over the past twenty years. Nasir could only guess how hard it was for him to be away from his family. And it was probably even harder not to have enough money to support them.