A Black Book and Golden Letters
A Black Book and Golden Letters
With a heavy heart, Khadija stood upon her uncle’s grave with white flowers dangling from her grasp. She knelt down, looked up to the night sky and poured her soul into prayer that this kind man may face a beautiful fate. Mournings and pain brought tears to her eyes as memories flooded through her head. She remembered how he never failed to bring smiles to their faces as they were children; to Khadija, he was the gift giver, the storyteller and her comforter. She remembered his wealth, his generosity and the happiness he spread to our family, street and town. Above all, she remembered his last days. When he silently held her hand and gently pressed it. His lips would slowly curl around and tears would roll on either cheek. That was all the power he mastered to express his content and affection.
