God's way

Part 22

The church was quiet, with a calm that only Sunday mornings could bring. The sunlight streamed through the stained glass windows, casting colorful reflections on the floor. As I stood at the entrance tying my veil, I suddenly hesitated. The soft fabric in my hands brought back a memory I wanted to forget — Sayjan's hands gripping the scarf around my neck, squeezing until I could barely breathe. I froze for a moment, my heart pounding.

I took a shaky breath and glanced around, noticing the other women tying their veils with practiced ease. I could feel my pulse quicken, the edges of the memory creeping in, threatening to overwhelm me. Instead of wrapping the veil securely around my neck like I usually would, I opted to tie it loosely at the back, letting it drape over my shoulders. It wasn't perfect, but it would have to do.

Malik, my little brother, tugged at my sleeve. 

"Are you okay, Adma?" he asked, his big brown eyes looking up at me with concern.

I forced a smile and nodded, patting his head gently. 

"Yes, Malik, I'm fine. Let's go inside."

Together, we walked into the church and made the sign of the cross in front of the altar. I could see a few familiar faces — women from the community who had known us since we were kids. They smiled warmly at us as we passed by, and I gave a small smile back, trying to steady my breathing.

We found a seat near the middle, and as soon as I sat down, the comforting smell of incense filled my lungs. The choir was singing softly in the background, their voices blending together in a harmonious melody that seemed to wrap around me like a warm blanket. I closed my eyes for a moment, taking it all in.

When the mass began, it was as if a weight had lifted off my chest. The priest's voice was deep and steady, echoing through the church as he began the prayers. The sound of the congregation murmuring their responses brought a sense of unity and calm that I hadn't felt in a long time. I joined in the prayers, the words coming to me naturally, a familiar rhythm that I had known since I was a child.

Every word, every hymn, felt like it was washing over me, cleansing me of the fear and anxiety that had gripped me for so long. The silence in my mind was almost startling. I hadn't realized how loud the noise in my head had been until it was gone. Here, in this sacred space, I felt a sense of peace that I had been desperately craving.

I glanced over at Malik, who was sitting quietly with his hands folded, his eyes closed as he whispered a prayer. He looked so innocent, so untouched by the darkness that had seeped into my life. I reached out and squeezed his hand, and he looked up at me, smiling brightly.

As the priest continued with the sermon, I felt the words reach into my heart. It was about forgiveness and finding strength in God, a message that resonated deeply with me. For a brief moment, I let myself believe that maybe, I could find the strength to move on from everything that had happened.

When it came time for communion, I got up with Malik and walked to the front. The priest handed me the wafer, and as I placed it on my tongue, I closed my eyes. I whispered a silent prayer, asking for protection, for peace, for the strength to face whatever was coming next.

As I walked back to my seat, the warmth of the church surrounded me, the feeling of community, of being part of something bigger. I sat down, feeling lighter, almost like the heavy burden I'd been carrying was slowly being lifted away.

For the first time in what felt like forever, I felt a glimmer of hope.

I left church feeling lighter, as if the weight on my chest had eased, even if just a little. Malik ran off with his friends, climbing into the car that pulled up with music blasting from the speakers. I waved him off and decided to walk. I told myself it was for fresh air, but really, I just needed space—time alone to let my thoughts settle.