ZERQA, Jordan — "I was born in a camp, so I know these people well. They are my people," said Dr. Ibrahim Ghabeish, 55, a Palestinian physician at the Mother of Mercy Clinic in Zerqa, Jordan.

For the past 14 years, Dr. Ghabeish has worked at the maternity clinic treating Palestinian refugees who have made a home in the camps of Jordan. In the past few years, he has seen an influx of refugees from Iraq and Bangladesh as well.

Jordan has become a haven for refugees, and Ra’ed A. Bahou, regional director for the Pontifical Mission, believes it is a safety issue. "Until now, Jordan has been the most peaceful of Middle East countries and we hope it will continue like that. People like to live in Jordan because of the security," he said.

Located in one of the poorer areas of Jordan, the clinic opened in 1981 and is operated by the Pontifical Mission — the Catholic Near East Welfare Association’s (CNEWA) operating agency in the Middle East. CNEWA was founded in 1926 to support Eastern Catholic churches; provide humanitarian assistance regardless of nationality or creed; promote Christian unity; and educate those in the West about the people and churches of the East.

Three Dominican Sisters of St. Catherine of Siena run the clinic — Sister Sara is the nurse, Sister Najma is the registrant and Sister Habiba is the director. Between 120 and 200 patients are treated daily and some 120 vaccinations are administered, all for a minimum fee. It is not charity.

The clinic is modest, but well-maintained. There is a lab, ultrasound equipment, a pharmacy and two doctors. The middle-aged nuns move around from room to room busying themselves with reassuring mothers, handling paperwork and following closely behind the doctors.

Women, some with head scarves, some with burkas hiding all but their eyes, sit on the benches that line the clinic walls. Most hold young babies. Some have brought their aging mothers or older children. Many are shy about being photographed, but are proud to display their babies and move the blankets away from their faces. One mother carries an expensive purse and a cell phone, another looks less well off.

The clinic treats patients "from 0 to 16 years," through prenatal, pediatric and maternity services from "the first day through the delivery in the hospital," according to Dr. Ghabeish.

Dr. Nermina Al Tarazi, a Bosnian Muslim married to a Jordanian, has worked here for eight years.

Most medical problems they see can be treated by a general practitioner, but about 5 to 10 percent need a specialist. They treat diabetes, brucellosis — a disease from contaminated animal products, and Hepatitis A and B, but they don’t see AIDS, Dr. Ghabeish said.

Pharmacist Kifaya Zawatin doesn’t always have enough drugs. Although they receive free samples, they sometimes have to write prescriptions that must be filled elsewhere.

Lina, 29, a Christian refugee from Egypt, tells Dr. Ghabeish that she has stomach pain. He believes it is psychosomatic. When treating these patients, he said he listens carefully, orders mental tests, reassures them, tries to draw them back to reality and sometimes give them anti-anxiety pills. He said many of these patients suffer from Obsessive-Compulsive disease. There is a social worker on duty to help them talk through their problems.

Although he is a Muslim, Dr. Ghabeish said he must speak the spiritual language of his patients, from the Christians and Muslims, to the few Buddhists who come in.

Now with a third generation of Palestinian refugees still displaced, the soft-spoken doctor admits, their lives are not "ordinary." His fellow Palestinians "were friends. Now everyone is scattered. Where are my neighbors? Somebody kicked (us) out, (we) didn’t choose that. They destroy the graves of our ancestors, even the trees from thousands of years ago."

Although he said some Palestinians go back to visit their homeland, their families are now elsewhere and the culture is different. They are strangers now and would have to adapt to a different culture.

The doctor’s own experiences help him relate to the strife of his patients. "God give us health to continue our work," he said.

CNEWA also runs a church and school next to the clinic. Father Ziad Naffa’ came to the church four years ago. He said working with Christians and Muslims illustrates that although they are doctrinally different, they worship the same God.

Seventh-grade English teacher Sarah Al Mashni leads an English class in the adjacent school where Christian and Muslim youngsters — wearing clean, crisp uniforms — study side by side.