Princess: Stepping Out of the Shadows, стр. 35
My recent method of visiting ancient times through the power of my thoughts was the most rewarding and soothing, for it took me back through the history I had learned over the years from my family, as well as from my love of reading.
No written records remain of the earliest days of civilization that impacted the land once referred to as Assyria, but evidence has been found that indeed it was occupied by early humans around 100,000 years ago. I have read that ceramics, crude tools and human skeletons have been discovered that support this theory. Climate change, or meteorological conditions not limited to our modern age, is believed to have influenced the humans living in Syria to adapt their lifestyle. Moving from merely hunting for food, they began to grow their crops in the rich soils of the fertile plains that spread from Mesopotamia, which comprised the Tigris–Euphrates river system, and through the eastern parts of Assyria, becoming settled in small villages and cities.
Once hunters become farmers, the men are at home more than they are gone, freeing up time to dwell on needed inventions and objects of beauty, and that is what happened in Syria.
At that moment, as I recalled so much of what I had been taught as a child, Kareem interrupted my thoughts, which were firmly focused on Syria. His voice was loud, as he searched for me throughout our palace. ‘Sultana? Sultana? Where are you?’
I felt a flush of frustration, for I was just feeling the sensation and wonder of Syria, but then I heard the low laughter of my son, Abdullah, who was amused over one thing or another.
My irritation instantly vanished. ‘I am here,’ I happily called out, as my eyes hunted for their two tall figures, knowing that any moment they would walk through the wide and open archway leading into our indoor pool area.
Never am I annoyed when it is one of my children who is disrupting my contemplations. My son had been on a lengthy holiday to Europe and I had not seen him for nearly a month, which felt an eternity to his mother, despite his being an adult man with children of his own.
‘Ah, Sultana, there you are,’ Kareem said, before kissing me on my forehead and pulling up a chair to sit beside me. My husband reached for a plate and began to fill it with the roast beef sandwiches, his favourite, as well as a few specially made custard cream biscuits.
‘Mother!’ Abdullah smiled, as he popped a candy into his mouth. ‘I have missed you.’
I laughed with pleasure. Nothing can match the joy I feel at seeing one of my children after a long absence. ‘Son, come,’ I exclaimed, as I patted the chair on the other side of me.
Abdullah pulled the chair slightly closer to me, as he settled himself and leaned in to kiss me on my cheeks and forehead.
Kareem gave me a probing look. ‘Darling, tell me, how did your meeting go with Maha and her cousins?’
My smile faded into a grimace. ‘Please, please do not ask.’
Abdullah frowned, feeling displeased that I was upset, although he was the family member who had pushed against his father for Maha to remain working in Turkey with the Syrian refugees who had fled the war to seek aid in that country. That excitement had occurred in 2015, three years previously. ‘What, now?’ he asked.
Kareem shifted uncomfortably, hoping that the current problem would not remind Abdullah of the huge row between them over the topic of Maha’s presence in what Kareem considered a dangerous situation.
I paused before giving a minimal account of my concerns. ‘Just so you know, it is not my troubles that are disturbing me, Abdullah, so do not worry about your mother.’ I inhaled before continuing with my concerns. ‘Truthfully, I am distraught over the grave danger so many women and their young families are facing in Syria. It is bad enough for the men who are at war, but I am talking here about the innocent and vulnerable women and children.’
‘So, Maha gave you the details?’ Kareem asked in between bites of his sandwich.
My jaw dropped as I looked in surprise at my husband. ‘Our daughter already described the rescues to you?’
After their serious argument regarding Maha’s work at the refugee centre in Turkey, I was startled that Maha had confided in her father. Quite obviously the two had moved past their major dispute.
‘Yes, last week,’ Kareem said, nodding his head. ‘I asked her not to tell you the specifics, Sultana, as I knew you would be just as you are now – disheartened, upset and lethargic.’
Despite my best efforts to hide my sadness, my husband could sense my mood and I felt defensive. ‘I may be disheartened and a little upset, but I am not lethargic.’
‘If you say so,’ Kareem said.
Abdullah asked, ‘Mother, can you share the particulars with me?’
I shook my head. ‘No, son, I think not. These are stories I do not want etched in your brain. Maha is doing all things possible to assist and relieve the women whose stories come to her, so you could do nothing but fret. Thankfully, she is doing this work from Europe, so she is in no immediate personal danger. But unless there is a need to know, or there is some way a person might help the situation, I would say that it is not fitting or healthy for anyone to be aware of these shocking stories.’
Kind and loving, Abdullah has never been one to seek out distressing tales, nor does he push when his parents say no, so he accepted my decision without further comment. I smiled and patted his hand. My son spent his youth in a palace with three excitable females, his mother and his two sisters, Maha and Amani. Perhaps that explains why he appears so happy to