The Boy Who Made Flowers Sing

48 | Fatima

Elena surrendered to the beauty of Syria's culture. Having been the cradle of civilization for over 10 millennia, it held an incredible, diverse history in its golden-domed mosques and architecture of tessellating shapes. 

Elena got out of the car near one of the mosques and watched both men and women in all sorts of attire - traditional, modern, and conservative. They were dotted hues of whites and blacks or a rainbow of colours. The smell of ithar filled the air with a prominent, rosy scent. All the women had a scarf on their head and some wore hijabs while others the niqab and burka. 

Elena and Aziza entered the mosque from the women's entrance and Elena's eyes widened in awe. A kaleidoscope of blue and golden shapes covered the inner walls of the dome. The pattern extended down in rows. Arched windows with colourful decor ran along the circumference. There wasn't a space on the walls or floor left untouched. 

"It's all done by hand," Aziza declared proudly, smiling at Elena. "It is exquisite, isn't it, habibti?"

Elena nodded, not being able to draw her eyes away from the historical art. "It is."

"C'mon," Aziza said. "The prayer will start soon. Would you like to pray with us?"

"I don't know how."

"It's okay, habibti. Just watch me."

As they entered the prayer area,  the floor transitioned from marble to a carpeted red velvet with a floral pattern running around its borders. Some women prayed, others read the Koran, and others chatted and laughed in groups. The main prayer was about to begin and Elena heard the azan again. Since she was in the mosque this time, she could hear the words clearly and Aziza explained their meaning to her. It was even more beautiful to hear it in the place of worship. Everyone began to form horizontal lines for prayer, standing shoulder to shoulder. As the imam started the prayer, everyone quieted down except the children running around. The recitation of the scripture lulled Elena into a tranquil state for a few minutes. After the prayer was over, some females stayed to chat with others or offer extra prayers. Most of the crowd filed out, getting on with the rest of their daily tasks. 

On their way out, there was a verse written on one of the walls with carefully done calligraphy in gold against a navy blue background.

"What does this say?" Elena asked Aziza.

"It says, 'one who kills one person, it is as if they have killed all of humanity. And one who saves one person, it is as if they have saved all of humanity.'"

"Wow," Elena said.

 "It's a verse from the Koran."

"It's a beautiful statement."

"Indeed. And yet the American government thinks that we promote violence," Aziza sadly smiled at her and shrugged. "If only they knew about this verse."

*******

On the way to the petting zoo one day, Elena saw more anti-government posters and red graffiti angrily sprayed on shop walls and fences. People were furious and were getting even angrier with the government's lack of response. Some of the children would often ask Aziza if there would be a war. There were terror-filled rumors of that happening, but protestors were trying to keep it as civil as possible. 

Goats, chickens, ponies, and kittens ran around freely at the petting zoo. Some of the children complained of the putrid smell but Aziza told them they'd have to bear it. Most of the kids were well-known to the people running the farm who warmly welcomed them and let them pet any animal they wanted. Elena saw Fatima sitting on the side, though. She would always be the first on the farm, petting the kittens and goats, but today, she sat on one of the benches.

"What's wrong?" Elena asked, sitting down beside her.

The little girl swung her legs underneath the bench as she watched all the animals with a sad smile. 

"Nothing," Fatima said.

"Are you feeling okay?" Elena asked.

"Yes," She said, avoiding eye contact and continuing to swing her legs back and forth.

Elena looked at her disquieted expression and kind grey eyes. One of the farm ladies brought over a kitten for Fatima to pet, but she squirmed away as if it was a dangerous animal. Elena and the farm lady frowned. Elena took the long-haired baby kitten named Haaz and pet it gently on its back. Fatima moved away on the bench.

"Don't you like kittens?" Elena asked.

Fatima nodded quickly. Her eyes looked as if they longed to pet the kitten, but she was forbidding herself. The tabby kitten let out an adorable meow making Elena chuckle, but Fatima watched it blankly. Elena found her behaviour to be odd.

"Okay," Elena said. "Not really feeling it today?"

The girl vigorously shook her head as her eyes blurred with tears.

"I don't want to pet Haaz anymore," Fatima croaked, her bottom lip quivering. "Because then I'll love him."

"What's wrong with that?" Elena asked, trying to understand. "You love kittens."

Fatima took a deep breath and irritatedly shooed away a fly.

"But, I can't."

"Why not?"

"Loving something too much is bad."

"Why do you think that?"

 "Because if you love something too much, it goes away."

Elena stared at her glazed-over eyes and melancholic expression and did not know what to say.

"That's why my family went away," Fatima said quietly. "And that's why I can't pet Haaz."

Elena was speechless. She cleared her throat and tried to think of something to say.

"Haaz isn't going anywhere," Elena said. "He's right here."

Elena tried handing Fatima the kitten, but she veered away.

"But, he'll go away soon," Fatima said, her tears slipping down her face. "And then I'll be sad. And I don't to be sad anymore."

Elena was stunned by Fatima's maturity. How much had she already seen? She was glad when Mariam, Fatima's older sister, noticed her sister was crying and walked over to sit beside her. Her sister wiped away her tears and consoled her. 

Elena's eyes blurred with tears as she smiled at them. It was all she could do. At the end of the day, she couldn't comfort an orphan child because she would never know what it was like to experience so much trauma at such a young age. 

She got up slowly and walked through the zoo, checking on each child. She looked around at all the kids and wondered how they saw the world. These children, in a way, were wise beyond their years because they had experienced so much already. They knew how to keep their guard up, read people, and had a defensive aura about them. These small field trips were more precious than she thought they were. 

She looked back at Fatima and Mariam giggling on the bench together, their matching french braids making them look like twins. Elena made a vow to herself that she would protect these children at all costs.