A Rose in the Mud

A scream so hopeless, that not even my fearless land of miracles, Palestine could resist. A scream so painful, that even my mother could not calm. A scream so loud, that the sky collided with the ground. The deafening sound sent a sudden rush of adrenaline throughout their bodies. As tears began flowing down my red, chubby cheeks.
"You will be fine, we will take care of you and educate you until you become a teacher one day". They had told me as I looked behind me without realizing that my mom had disappeared without saying goodbye. I was only four years old when my mom sent me to a German, all-girls boarding school ruled by strict German nuns. But why? How could she do this?

It was 1948 when my mom became a widow with four children, no education and no money. She had no choice but to sacrifice me to them, the same way that Abraham sacrificed Issac to Jesus. Little did I know, I would be spending the next 14 years with strangers who eventually became my family.
I was awoken every morning at 5:30 by a sudden freezing breeze of wind that no blanket could shield. I was awoken to the sound of the nuns opening the window as the sun went right through the cracks of my broken heart. There was no chance for me to express my feelings in which I had to get up, brush my teeth and line up so I can start the chores of the day.  As I kneeled down on my trembling knees to ensure that the white granite floor was spotless so I wouldn't disobey the nun, I couldn't bear the thought of being deprived of a home. As I got up I heard the sound of my stomach growling when finally the nun told us to line-up in order to eat breakfast. One thin toast bread, one spoon of yoghurt and honey was our military breakfast every day at sharply 7:30. It tasted bitter, but it was all we had.

One day, Salma, my stubborn friend, refused to eat breakfast because of her numbed appetite. She was yearning to see her mother for just a glimpse of a moment. The nuns did not accept any leftover food and made her have it for lunch. "Whoever does not finish all their food shall have it for breakfast and dinner until they ate it!" Yelled the nun. After breakfast, we came into the bathroom to wash our hands in the cold water before our classes began. We had a full exhausting schedule that included eight classes a day with only a few breaks in between. We then had our homework time where we were strictly sat on desks and weren't allowed to communicate with anyone. After a long day, the night time dawned with no energy left to spare. We were not allowed to sleep with our pyjamas but were obligated to wear our underwear to sleep.

Love, Honesty and Hygiene. The three most important values that were embedded in me to this day. Honesty was such a big deal to the nuns, that they preferred an excuse justifying your wrongdoing instead of lying about it. The thing that kept me going is how we looked after each other as orphans. We were only allowed to go home on special occasions, however, I could not make it home most of the time because we couldn't afford it.

One morning, I was awoken by a sudden rush of the nun waking the students. "Christina, Catherine, Alexis, Maria, Nathalie, Nancy" her meek voice uttered. She kept calling countless names to go outside. I was baffled at why she didn't call my name. I got up for breakfast. After I finished, I peeked through the dusty windows of the kitchen and could see the joyful parents visiting their children, giving them the warmest hugs. Leading with a nice gift and delicious food. I impatiently waited for my mom to show up until it was time for class. The nun had called the last name out loud and it wasn't mine. I felt a sense of envy knowing that I was deprived of being able to see my mom. Yes, the nuns were there, but they didn't provide any emotional support. As all the girls went back with a big smile on their face, bragging about their gifts. The only thing I could brag about was my loneliness.

Although, we were not privileged enough to go to stores,  amusement parks, or malls. As we grew older, they took us on a school trip to one of the holiest lands in Jerusalem. We were collecting olives from the tree, and we saw another boys school approach the same area. A vibrant green tree captured my attention. I felt tempted to collect some olives from that tree as it stood out from other trees. There he was, a handsome, blonde-haired, blue-eyed boy that was slim and tall in stature stood beside the tree and gave me a subtle glance. I didn't believe in love at first sight until he filled the void in my heart.

"What's your name?" I asked, blushing.
"Elia," he said with a smile that brightened the gloomy sky.
As he was talking to me, the words slowly started to fade while I stared into his sparkling eyes, I saw a whole new magical world that silenced the chaos around me.
Interrupted by the Nun's loud instructions, we were called to head back in line. Elia then reached out and handed me a coin so smoothly that it made my heart skip a beat. It was the only valuable thing I owned.
From that moment on, I knew that he was the one.
It was 1962 when I finally graduated with my head held high as my mom sat in the front row seat holding a bouquet of flowers, eager to give me a hug and a kiss.

Based on the true story of my Grand-Mother, Fayka. Who is now married to Elia and has four children and twelve grandchildren. She doesn't regret this experience in her life in which she believes it gave her the knowledge, education and wisdom she has today. My Grand-Mother currently lives in Amman, Jordan and speaks German, English and Arabic fluently to this day. Her mother played a huge role in her life, my moms and even my life in which she was a strong woman and a role model to all of the family.