Before jihadists overran this mountain town in 2013, Maaloula was one of the oldest Christian communities in Syria, where Western Aramaic--the language of Jesus Christ--is still spoken. It was also a place of profound peace, where Sunni and Shiite Muslim residents, along with their Christian neighbors, forged a pact early in the war to avoid the sectarian conflict ripping their country apart. "We decided that even if the mountains around us were exploding with fighting, we would not go to war," Mahmoud Diab, a Sunni imam, told Newsweek in 2012. "It's a sectarian war, but the fact is, there is no war here in Maaloula. In this town, we are not defined by religion. We all know each other. Everyone is a Christian, and everyone is Muslim." Tolerance had been a tradition in Maaloula since St. Takla--the daughter of a pagan prince and an early disciple (and possibly wife) of St. Paul--fled to these mountains in the first century. She was escaping soldiers sent by her father, who was threatening to kill her for her ardent faith in her adopted religion. St. Takla was exhausted and, finding her way blocked by the sharp, rocky sides of a mountain, fell on her knees in desperate prayer. Legend has it the mountains parted, and she escaped. Maaloula means entrance in Aramaic. For centuries, Christians and Muslims have come here to pray for miracles, but the residents of Maaloula weren't blind to the dangers that swirled around them when I visited on several occasions in 2012 and 2013. "I am afraid of the kind of people who will come here," said Antoinette Nasrallah, a Syrian-American, originally from Miami, who owned a caf

With additional reporting by Lara Adoumie and Stav Ziv.