The Nexus

I read it, couldn’t trust it to believe it, and I seemed to be staring at it.
I was staring in the faces of others of my same age and others who were older and they all were busy talking and laughing.

That happened in a garden. One morning of one day of my past.

The garden's grass was telling the water drops how to dance gently, and the surrounding trees invited the sparrows to gather together happily.

Then, I stared at it again, it was spelling out the same paragraph I had memorized from another book, by the help of my parents, overcoming my stubborness " i can read it by myself", trying to make me understand the difficulty that any person might face in the beginning of learning reading. I would just open that book yearningly because I trusted it and believed it, and was sure it always kept the paragraph in a perfect way.
That book had the same name, was located at the top of a very beautiful table in my parents' room and appeared so much different from the one in my hand.
The book at home was big, with a very thick cover and so clear and big words written in a wonderful way. And the book in my hand was thin and its writing was normal and I could understand the words after tries of collecting the spelling of the letters.
My father was always teaching me the pleasure of writing, and he would always draw the letters as nets of points that I had to join together. So, I drew, wrote, spoke and enjoyed.

I couldn’t find out the difference reason between those two books, besides, they had told me that the celestial books could never change!

I ran to the teacher, who was sitting at a point out of a semicircle made up by girls and bags.
I asked her what that book was and she answered me that it was the Qur'an, I asked her back how, and this time, she gave no answer, she just kept gazing at me rising up her eyebrows, and trying to understand the continuation of my talking, which was mixed with discomfort, worries, queries and big desires to know.

I ran back to my place, then , I changed my mind and headed for the fence, which was engraved by shapes of squares and triangles which helped me to climb it up easily, I wanted to go into the outside world to find the answers I was willing to get.
I kept running, and I started coughing soon. The sun was facing my forehead directly, as if it was leading me the way. When I passed the corner of the road I found myself in a place higher than the houses before me, and the sweat dropped down my whole face. It was so beautiful to see my home fixed down there, amongst many others, I picked the information of the opening door but after a short while, a nightmare woke up.

I turned back afraid, and I stopped wanting to run. I began walking cattily, that no creature had to hear me coming.
Suddenly, I caught noticing its shadow before its body, and its barking before its fur. It was the same street dog again, and of course it was willing to attack me as usual.
I quickly decided to return to the masjid, but I found myself breaking through the air down to our house.

The dog almost caught me, but I cried and cried more and more, and it ran away!

I entered terribly. When I saw my mom, I burst into tears, and hugged her so tight. She was shocked, and kept asking me what was wrong, I was out of speech, and she did her best to conciliate me. She succeeded.

Later, I told her what had occurred, and she chirked me with a voice lighter than the breeze for I broke down my fear against that dog. She also, represented something about that book, and she said the Qur'an consisted of 30 chapters. And It was easier to divide it into booklets for each chapter to facilitate reading it for children like me.
I understood after listening so well, and after making her repeat it so many times.
In the afternoon, the teacher visited us to make sure all was fine, and I pinched my mom while she was talking to her, since I didn’t want the teacher to know anything.

I always smile widely when I remember that day, and I thank God sincerely for he gave me that great mother.

In the ends of that same Summer, I went to school, and it was my first year in a location like this. I found it so amazing, and I was always doing my homework with no loitering.
I came to know many new friends who carelessly shared in building my personality.
I so well still remember Mina.

Mina was a tall girl, with a brown wavy hair, and dark blue eyes. We liked each other, and we became close friends although she was older than me with perhaps 3 years.
We always shared food, juice, notebooks, puzzles, stickers and toys.
We were like one soul seperated into two bodies.

She said she was Christian, and that made no sense for me, since my mom's best friend had been Christian too and that had made no sense for my mom.

We were chalking a big map on the ground once ,when she told me she always went to the church on Sunday, "to say prayers and renew the emotions" I so far well remember her sentence. And inside me, I loved the idea, and planned to accompany her, I would take that little Qur'an ( I had named the one of my parents as the big Qur'an and my own one as the little Qur'an) and go to say prayers too.

Something happened that Thursday and made me forget telling my mom about my plan, but I surely told Mina, I asked her to teach me the church name so I would ask my mom to bring me there if she would have the spare time, and so, I would be with Mina renewing my emotions.
I showed Mina the little Qur'an, and I took the floor, until I noticed she was looking at me with a big surprise all time long.
There was a pause during which I was thinking of what to do.
Mina interrupted that pause, and said with a contement " you can't accompany me to the church. You are Muslim, you have to go to the masjid and say your prayers, you are not a coreligionist of mine dear" and she kept backslapping me. That baffled me, and gave me no chance to state I couldn’t understand her point.

The air surrounded us both warmly, but it made me feel its coolish masses too. That caused a banked load as I was trying to contradict those annoying lying doubts.

When it was time to return home, and after the bell rang, I ran to the school yard, and couldn’t see Mina amongst the crowded people.

Sadness tails were hard to pull, as though my limbs were crawling so hard culling me to be cumbered violently but able to walk over the holes to get into the car unawarely.

As soon as I got home, I found no hand to condone those tails or those holes.
My mom, the best conversable, with the same voice tone of early Summer, kept calming me down, and I can assume she became so tired trying knowing the main depth of the problem.

And that day, she told me something I had not known before " Sandybelle, people are many, and they are different too. Although they seem to be alike many many times. They love, dislike, want, and dream. Their feelings differ according to the situation. And sure, they need to refresh their emotions from a time to another. There are many ways to do so, and one of them, is saying prayers. The main purpose, is to talk to God in a formal way, explain their deeds, sins and goodies.
The prayers differ according to the religion. And there are many like Islam and Christianity. Each religion has got its own teachings, but they all originally are here to serve man and felicitate life and love." that was so much for my realisation ability, but I can say I guessed what she meant. " you shouldn’t be sad ever. As much as you love God and love Mina. Don’t worry about it, just trust the thing you do" she added.
I shrugged me shoulders and remained speechless.

Two weeks later, my mom took me to a convent. And it was the first time I entered a place like that.

I loved the masjid and the convent both. And never asked about that subject again. Perhaps because life brought much more and it was too enough and more important than talking about the difference, or perhaps I avoided talking about it because I was afraid I might not understand well again.
Mom also told me " the prophet Mohammad is for Islam. And the prophet Jesus Christ is for Christianity. Moses too was for Judaism"

By time, I learnt about sects too. And whenever I learnt a new thing, parts of my ignorance corroded and died out, and I felt more confident.
And I thought the question about the difference shouldn't be answered though, since as the answer tried to be complain, man's conceit turned caliginous and the beautiful truth's face soon hid behind the wisdom body.

"And the equality will just appear in the endless world, where we do never have to choke or fear.." the old man said " nothing to worry about, as much as we think deeply of the real necessary duties we've got to do today, or will do any other day. There's the big humanity, when the religions prostrate humily for man, and the greatness of Allah appears purely " he added as he held up his grandchild , and looked straight into a far distance,maybe he was thinking the same thing, of how much man loved life but chose being away from it.
The distance stretched along the sky, and maybe longer, and helplessly ended to an endless horizon,where the image of the little and big Qur'ans appeared, and the two books were held in Mina's hand...

Sandybelle

P.S. my college will start this Sunday. And I may not be able to write often, so, for any expected :) absence, give me the excuse. and remeber that I love you..

Three little children

Taking a seat, and my elbow rests on my leg, I keep thinking of what to do next, diverting myself away from any mentioning of what's called food.(:))

Around five feet ahead of me, is a woody table triangle in shape. Beside the table, is a small woody sofa. I change my mind and decide to have a rest over there.

On the table are three small cups with their saucers contained within a beautiful basket. And on the other side of the table is a fictile vessel of elephant form .while in the middle is a plastic anvil with a plastic tree whose twiglet hangs over the right side of a silver tray. The truthful deceiving plant makes a beautiful sense since it exactly appears as the tree located at the front of our garage.
The silver tray has three groups of candles straightening up, the first one includes one candle, the second has got three and the third catches up thirty and all are white and of ordinary height.

The first one picks up my attention. The apical end is blazing severely and from a moment to another, the flame takes up a different direction, following the air inspirations.
The more I approach my hand, the better I feel the little heat stings.

In the end, the heat alarms me, and I jump up terrified.

I start traipsing everywhere home.

My dad invites me for a car journey along the market. I hesitate to speak, as if I am still feeling the heat so short waves. Finally, I give no answer, and tend to the refrigerator, open it and find the wonderful brightness. Everything shines greatly, then I close the door grinningly banishing my appetite .

Half an hour later, I find myself directed to the house gate which is half opened, slightly move it, and keep watching the empty street.

Suddenly, three little children come down the lane, I am surprised in the beginning, but later, find it a big joy to observe their lazy steps, drawing a big sack which is seemingly full of sweet things. The tallest one is blond, the other wears an attractive jeans, and the last and shortest finds a big difficulty to carry his belly walking.
So hard to find my ability destroyed and my control broken down at laughing. They notice the laughter and stand motionless, looking directly at me and I feel sorry and want to hide inside myself.
Smiling widely, understanding my transaction, each one encourages the other to do something, and all their talking happens in whispers. So they tune out and bear up, reach my stable body and greet me.
They open the sack, and each one shows me what he's bought, and how they've lavished all their money.
I tread on air as listening attentively to every word of their speech, and how so admirable they are as giving me a full description of what they did during the day.
Then they ask me to take a chocolate piece, and keep insisting as if they've heard about my love towards the chocolate.
I ask them to wait a bit, and return with a big sweet mass. Their eyes sparkle as happily as mine to see these sweet things. I hug them each, and thank them so much.
Then, they ask me what I am supposed to do in Eid and whether I like Eid or not. " I do love Eid" I turn the trick in the tenor of the story they are just telling.
" why do you love Eid?" they ask me and keep explaining Eid for me and why they love it too.
Although they were not so clear this time, but I get it , and solicit my inner self to give a reasonable reason.
Then, my tears roll down, and immediately hide underneath my chin. And before I answer them, they hug me so tight, and say " Happy Eid.. We love Eid, and we already love you".
I dry my wet cheeks and kiss them each. I say goodbye, and see them go, and I feel I am willing to tweeze every tiny piece of stones from down their following footsteps. I am so afraid of they may stumble, but after this, I become comfortable as a young man I have seen before comes, and holds them together while they apologize for their latish return!!
I am satisfied, and close the door . My feet hit the ground repeatedly, a sign for a big query, a query about why I love Eid..

I feel so happy though, and I wish you a

Happy Eid

Sandybelle