Al-Riyadh
THE maxim “One who has nothing can give nothing” is applicable to everyone.
People sometimes lose valuable things in life. Even so they are able to give more than what they have.
When he was a baby, my father lost his mother. He didn’t get a chance to pronounce her name or feed on her breast milk. His emotions were intense. He loved us dearly.
He loved his relatives and friends as well. I never heard him swear, slur or criticize anyone who he might have disagreed with. He loved everyone and smiled at everyone. He was a symbol of love, peace and purity.
He never went to school, but he taught us when we were young the hardest lessons of life.
We grew up treading his path even though he left us a long time ago. We were just kids, the oldest was about 17 years old, when he died. The youngest was only two years old and he doesn’t even remember his face, his scent, or his touch.
I remember as a five-year-old child I was playing at the backyard of our house one day. He was stargazing as always with his little radio, the daily newspaper and his reading glasses by his side. He whispered to me, “Come close.” And I did. He asked me a surprising question pointing his finger to the sky, “Do you see that star?”
I turned to him innocently and said, “There are so many stars, which one of them?”
He answered firmly, “No, too many stars but that star is different. It is the most beautiful one. It shines and has a special glimmer. It appears once a year bringing good news to people. It is far away, farther than all other stars. But it is a magnificent one. Do you know its name?”
I was quiet. He said, “Goaza.”
At that moment, I didn’t realize the point he wanted to drive home. He was so adamant as much as he was certain to plant those details in my memory that very moment.
My dad was gone before I turned 10, leaving that moment and many similar ones planted in my mind.
My mother continued on his path, doing her best to raise us well. Here I am all grown up. That moment is still there and I finally understood his point. Yes Dad, I finally understood what was hidden in your words.
I now realize that a person’s beauty is in the beauty of his upbringing, not in the beauty of his name. I have learned that our actions are what make our name after all.
In the memory of your departure 32 years ago, I pray to Allah to shower His mercy and forgiveness on you.
A person with a pure soul and sweet smile, you taught me and my siblings not to fear anything as long as we stuck to our religion and our principles. You taught us that breaking down and stumbling along the way would only make us stronger.
You are gone and I still think about how you would solve any hardship that I faced in my life. I hope that my siblings and I succeed in returning the favor of what you and mom have taught us through patience and having faith in people around you.