this is tawakkul.
I walked up the stairs along with my daughter Nour in the poorly lit corridor. I entered the room shyly & in broken Arabic greeted all the sisters in the room. A family in this Syrian village had invited me for dinner & I looked forward to such invites. Not only because I finally got to eat well-prepared food but also because I met new sisters in such gatherings. Some of these sisters & their stories in this war-ravaged country astonished me, & some ingrained themselves in me, forever changing me.
After we had eaten, a sister brought in a frail man & gently sat him against the cushions on the wall. I was struck by the noor emanating from the sister’s face. I stared at her in wonderment of why her face lit like a bright light. The brother had a white beard humbling resting on his face &…
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