This poem is about when in the early 60's as a child my grandmother took me on an organised pilgrimage to what the organisers called The Holy Land at that time. It was organised through the u.k, churches and hundreds of people went from all over the united kingdom. I was the only child amongst the adults. Each of my 'stories' are true events that happened whilst i was there. My reference to my grandma's The Dove, is about how she thought the holy spirit was goodness and kindness and love amongst all humans. She was a woman of her time, born in 1901 and religious in a church on sunday way and a good and kind woman in every way. I am not religious despite this, but i am what could be called spiritual, and i think my grandmother was as well, for she made no boundary between any other religion or people. I hope the world finds freedom in The Dove.