Page 1 Page 2 Page 3 Page 4 Page 5 Page 6 Page 7 Page 8 Page 9 Page 10 Page 11 Page 12County Attorney Mark Rubin performs with Echoes of Peace a choir organized by Duluthian Sara Thomsen to use music and the arts to support and expand the work of inspiring awareness action and reflection on critical social issues. This publication is made possible through the efforts of the St. Louis County Attorneys Office in association with local law enforcement agencies. Funds utilized are converted property that aided in or was used in the commission of criminal offenses that occurred in St. Louis County. No taxpayer dollars have been expended in the printing of this publication. Gate A-4 By Naomi Shihab Nye Wandering around the Albuquerque Airport Terminal after learning my flight had been delayed four hours I heard an announcement If anyone in the vicinity of Gate A-4 understands any Arabic please come to the gate immediately. Well one pauses these days. Gate A-4 was my own gate. I went there. An older woman in full traditional Palestinian embroidered dress just like my grandma wore was crumpled to the floor wailing. Help said the flight agent. Talk to her. What is her problem We told her the flight was going to be late and she did this. I stooped to put my arm around the woman and spoke haltingly. Shu-dow-a shu-bid-uck habibti Stani schway min fadlick shu-bit-se-wee The minute she heard any words she knew however poorly used she stopped crying. She thought the flight had been cancelled entirely. She needed to be in El Paso for major medical treatment the next day. I said No were fine youll get there just late who is picking you up Lets call him. We called her son I spoke with him in English. I told him I would stay with his mother till we got on the plane. She talked to him. Then we called her other sons just for the fun of it. Then we called my dad and he and she spoke for a while in Arabic and found out of course they had 10 shared friends. Then I thought just for the heck of it why not call some Palestinian poets I know and let them chat with her This all took up two hours. She was laughing a lot by then. Telling about her life patting my knee answering questions. She had pulled a sack of homemade mamool cookies little powdered sugar crumbly mounds stuffed with dates and nuts from her bag and was offering them to all the women at the gate. To my amazement not a single traveler declined one. It was like a sacrament. The traveler from Argentina the mom from California the lovely woman from Laredo we were all covered with the same powdered sugar. And smiling. There is no better cookie. Then the airline broke out free apple juice and two little girls from our flight ran around serving it and were covered with powdered sugar too. And I noticed my new best friend by now we were holding hands had a potted plant poking out of her bag some medicinal thing with green furry leaves. Such an old country traveling tradition. Always carry a plant. Always stay rooted to somewhere. And I looked around that gate of late and weary ones and thought This is the world I want to live in. The shared world. Not a single person in that gate once the crying to confusion stopped seemed apprehensive about any other person. They took the cookies. I wanted to hug all those other women too. This can still happen anywhere. Not everything is lost.