The Blind Beggar: Part XXII

Across town, Amal wrestled with her emotions as her mind was pulled back to Ali’s touch when they were face to face for the first time in many years.  The trace of his fingers was still palpable.  She wanted to see him again but didn’t know how it could ever happen.  Since marrying before her sixteenth birthday, she suppressed her childhood dreams.  Now as an adult, she realized how few dreams she had.  She could reduce them all to one request.  She wanted to be happy. 

As a child, she was happy playing with her family, cousins and other friends.  She cherished memories of games, chasing one another and the simplicity of her life.  Her family wasn’t rich but they also weren’t poor.  Her father worked constantly to provide for his family.  He was a stern man.  He grew up in difficult circumstances and believed work, hard work, was the only way out of poverty.  He spent his life proving that belief.

Around time Amal began to understand her father’s regular absences were due to work that a young boy appeared while she and her cousins were playing.  Using her adult mind, she saw through her child’s eyes her first impressions of the boy.  She saw heartache but a strong hope for acceptance.  For about an hour, he sat on a low wall watching the chaotic actions of children at play.  How he must have wanted to be included.  How he must have wished someone would notice him sitting there.  Alone. 

She saw him.  She knew her cousins and family saw him but they continued playing.  After about thirty minutes, but children have little concept of time, there was a lull in the action.  Amal took that opportunity to walk up to the boy.  His eyes observed her movement toward him.  His eyes were hopeful and fearful at the same time.  He detected openness in her body language and not aggression.  Amal laughed at the moment now.  Children don’t care about protocol.  They go right to the point.  She walked up to him and asked, “You wanna play?”

The boy smiled, nodded and hopped down from the wall.  Amal grabbed his left hand and pulled him to the group.  She proudly called out to her family, “This is my new friend.”  Amal had forgotten it was more than a week before Ali felt comfortable arriving at the play area and joining in without being asked.  What had happened that he was so afraid to join in play with other children?  What had happened to Ali since then?

Like when they were children, Amal wanted to reach out to Boulos, her Ali, and protect him.  Was it a maternal instinct?  Though she felt free do that as a child, she knew to hide it from her parents.  She instinctively understood they would not approve.  She was certain her husband would never understand or accept.  Like her father, he worked hard to provide for his family and he sometimes had a temper.  

Per her nature, Amal lived her life trying to appease.  She always worked to alleviate potential problems before they happened.  Now she plainly saw two parts of her life colliding.  How could she stop this from happening?  She consigned herself to the belief she could never feel Ali’s touch but wanted to protect him as she once did.  If she tried, what would be the result of such a collision of worlds? 

Still, Amal wanted to be happy.  She could choose to keep her life the way it was.  She wasn’t overly happy but Amal loved her children.  They were the joy of her life.  She had grown comfortable in her circumstances and could be content if not happy.  However, if she chose to have contact with Ali, she could lose her only joy in life.   Amal, knew her path after seeing it all in plain terms. 

Again, she was resigned to do what was right.  Knowing it was right didn’t make acceptance any easier.  Part angry, part brokenhearted, Amal cried.  Again, she had no joy.  Again, she pushed down hopes and dreams.  It wasn’t fair but following her hopes and dreams, and accepting the consequences, wasn’t right.  Again, she would accept her lot in life and move forward.