The passage we read today in class was about the wrestling festival that the entire village goes to by their sacred cotton tree. Filled with strong imagery, the passage reminded me of a festival that takes place in my mother's home village of Miziara, in Lebanon. It's the festival of St. Charbel, a hermit who lived close by, in the town center. It's the biggest local event of the year and almost the entire village will either go to the town center or gather their entire families in their homes. At midnight all the eldest people of the village go to the Church of St. Charbel, right by the square, to attend a mass given by a relative of St. Charbel. This wrestling match in Lebanon immediately reminded me of my village tradition because of the social gathering, the separation of older people, and the religious aspects that both of them hold.
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