ANATA, West Bank -- Hope is getting Bassam Aramin through the worst days of his life.

The 37-year-old Palestinian peace activist is mourning his 10-year-old daughter, Abir, killed in a clash between stone throwers and Israeli border police this week, but is drawing strength from the embrace of his Israeli friends.

Aramin, an ex-Fatah gunman, has been touring high schools with former Israeli soldiers to preach coexistence, and said Saturday that his daughter's death only deepened his belief that the conflict between the two peoples cannot be solved by force.

"This has to push us to do more, to work harder," he said Saturday, sitting next to his daughter's empty bed in the family home in the Arab neighborhood of Anata, which straddles Jerusalem and the West Bank. The home was crowded with women comforting Abir's mother, Salwa.

Israeli police have opened an investigation into Abir's death.

The events began Tuesday morning, outside Abir's school, one of three lining the main road in Anata. Classes had let out early because of midterms, and boys leaving school threw stones at Israeli border police patrolling in a jeep, a routine occurrence.

Abir and her sister Areen, 12, were in the street near the school when Abir was hit by something in the back of the head, Areen said, adding that she is not sure what it was. Abir collapsed and was taken first to a nearby hospital and then to Jerusalem's largest, Hadassah, where she underwent brain surgery.

She died late Thursday and was buried Friday.

The family's attorney, Michael Sfard of the Israeli human rights group Yesh Din, said his initial investigation showed that border police fired rubber coated steel pellets to disperse the crowd, at a time when their lives were not in danger. He said bystanders retrieved a rubber bullet near where Abir collapsed, and that he would hand it to police Sunday.

Merav Hadad, a border police spokeswoman, said the forces in Anata acted under army orders, but that she could not comment on specifics because the incident is under investigation. The border police involved, as well as Abir's relatives, are to be questioned Sunday, police said.

Bassam Aramin said he has little faith in the Israeli authorities, but is grateful to the Israeli members of his group, Combatants for Peace, which brings together former Israeli soldiers and retired Palestinian militants.

His Israeli friends took turns staying with him at the hospital, along with his relatives and neighbors. The long vigil helped build more bridges. Aramin said one of his Arab friends regarded the Israelis with suspicion. "Slowly ... he started being friends with them, and once again, we created new ties, a new dialogue, despite the suffering," said Aramin.

One of the Israelis at Abir's bedside, 25-year-old Avichay Sharon from Combatants for Peace, said he felt pain and anger "at this crazy place."

"For me, it's not political anymore. Bassam is a friend. You are just there with someone you care about," he said.

But barriers remain. Aramin asked his Israeli friends not to come to the house of mourning in Anata, for fear some neighbors would say something hurtful to them.

Aramin grew up in the West Bank city of Hebron, and said that as a teenager he didn't imagine he would ever empathize with those he considered a bitter enemy.

At 16, he held his first Kalashnikov rifle. "I wanted to kill them all," he said of Israelis, adding that he never fired a shot. A year later, he was sentenced to seven years in prison for belonging to the then-outlawed Fatah movement and for weapons possession. In Hebron's Israeli-run prison, he learned Hebrew and had his first encounters with Israelis, including a guard who engaged him in political debates.

Aramin said he managed to find some common ground with his guard, a Jewish settler, and for the first time heard about the Holocaust by watching Israeli TV. However, he said, he learned the most from the trauma of being beaten by soldiers in prison. He said he decided then that he would be strong, and not become a prisoner of hatred.

After his release, he married, moved to Anata and eventually had six children. Short, soft-spoken and walking with a limp since childhood, Aramin now works as a clerk at the Palestinian National Archives in Ramallah.

Two years ago, he joined Combatants for Peace, working to find common ground with former Israeli soldiers. Members of the group gave lectures in high schools and homes in Israel.

Aramin was frequently paired with Zohar Shapira, 37, a former commando in the elite Sayeret Matkal unit and a high school teacher.

Shapira said his own turning point came during Israel's 2002 Defensive Shield campaign against Palestinian militants in the West Bank, when he found himself shooting in the air to keep back a Palestinian girl walking toward his soldiers. He said he was so shaken by his action � even though no one got hurt � that he has since refused to serve in the West Bank.

Shapira said it's hard for him to be optimistic, but that like his Palestinian friend, he must press on. "I promise to continue as long as I am here," he said. "We must save the children."