“No Pilgrims, No Business”

In the heart of Bethlehem, tucked between ancient stone streets, stands a small olive‑wood shop that has weathered both seasons and storms. It belongs to Rony Tabash, a Palestinian Christian whose life’s work, livelihood, and family story are inseparably tied to the Holy Land.

For generations, Rony’s family has carved devotional items from the olive trees that dot the landscape. Rosaries, crucifixes, medallions — each piece carries not only the scent of olive wood, but the faith and heritage of a people who have remained steadfast in the land where Jesus walked.

But today, Rony’s workshop is quieter than ever.

Since the outbreak of the current conflict, the flow of pilgrims into Bethlehem has nearly stopped. For Rony, this isn’t simply an economic downturn — it is an existential threat.

He says it plainly, almost as a prayer and a warning:
“No pilgrims mean no business.”

Without visitors, there are no sales. Without sales, the workshop cannot run. And without the workshop, 25 Christian families — including the Zablah family, who have carved olive wood for generations — lose their sole source of income. These aren’t just suppliers; they are parents putting food on their tables, children attending school, and elderly relatives relying on them for support.

Every cancelled pilgrimage, every shuttered marketplace, every moment of silence where tourism once brought life — Rony feels it personally. So does his wife. So do his children. And so does every family that depends on the work that flows from his little shop.

Like so many Christian families in the Holy Land, Rony’s home is filled with both faith and worry. The conflict has made everyday life precarious:

• Prices rising
• Jobs disappearing
• Uncertainty shaping every decision
• Children sensing the fear that adults try so hard to hide

Rony does what fathers everywhere do — he tries to create normality. He keeps the shop open even on quiet days. He encourages the artisans who work with him. He reassures his children that things will get better. He continues to carve rosaries, believing that every bead is a silent prayer for peace.
But it isn’t easy. “It’s not just work,” he says. “It’s our life.”

Despite everything, Rony’s spirit hasn’t dimmed. He believes deeply in the heritage of the Christian community in Bethlehem — a community that has survived for 2,000 years, but is now dwindling faster than ever.

For him, continuing his work is an act of resistance, resilience, and faith.

Every order from ACN, every rosary purchased, every donation given, is more than a transaction. It is a message that someone, somewhere, remembers them. It tells Rony and the families he supports that they are not alone — that their presence in the land of Christ still matters.

Every order from ACN, every rosary purchased, every donation given, is more than a transaction. It is a message that someone, somewhere, remembers them. It tells Rony and the families he supports that they are not alone — that their presence in the land of Christ still matters.

When benefactors support ACN’s Holy Land projects, they are helping far more than they might realise.
They are helping Rony keep his workshop open.
They are helping Issa and Jain Zablah provide for their four children.
They are helping preserve a Christian presence that is fragile, precious, and at risk.

It is often said that the Christians of the Holy Land are “living stones” — a testament to faith that has endured in the very places where the Gospel began. Rony is one of those stones. His hands carve the story of hope into olive wood every single day.

But he cannot stand alone.

In a time of deep worry, Rony’s gratitude is genuine and unwavering. He prays for those who support him, and he hopes that one day the streets of Bethlehem will be filled again with pilgrims, laughter, and promise.

Until then, he keeps carving — guided by hope, supported by kindness, carried by faith.

And through your prayers and help, families like Rony’s can continue their quiet, courageous work in the land that gave the world its Saviour.

Our range of olive wood products from the Holy Land all go towards helping Rony, his family, and the families of the carvers who work in Bethlehem. You can browse these beautiful handcrafted products here.