Christmas in Damascus


Christmas in Damascus

25 December 2018

The Facebook Wall

“Dear Mariam,

May the Christmas Spirit fill your heart with joy and bliss.

I have missed you. I have missed our Childhood and our games …

And Thank You for all the Joy you have brought to my Life!”

"Fares, Faresssssss is that you?"

And she ran towards the door to open it for the knight of her childhood.

“Hey, Mariam!”

She opens her eyes wide open and invites her childhood friend to play their favorite Christmas game – the riddle. The two run into the salon and head to the Christmas tree.

“I simply adore your Christmas tree!”

“Yes. Me too. It's the same, but I feel that it’s getting more and more beautiful with each passing year.”

The Christmas tree was two and a half meters high, standing shiny and tall in the corner of the salon. They sat down on the carpet close to it, watching it in wonderment.

As always, Mariam was sitting on the left side, him instead, on the right side, protectively.

“Shall we start?”

“Yes. You go ahead!”

“Ok. Close your eyes. It’s red. It has got some purple in it and some yellowish reflections. Guess which one it is!”

Mariam opened her eyes and started searching for the Christmas decoration her best friend had just described … After a couple of minutes:

“It took you a while to guess it this time.”

“Well, it’s kinda up, up, up. That explains since you’re taller than me,” Mariam replied. "Your turn!"

And they went on playing until Mariam’s mom served them with cozonac– the traditional Romanian cake her mom prepared on the holidays of Christmas and Easter accompanied by the roses juice. And Fares simply adored her mom’s dishes. He would remember them to this day.

Damascene Rose

“My dearest Fares,

 Thank you so much for your greetings.

 Please be in the knowledge that you have revived my memories.

 Whenever my mind wanders amongst the petals of our childhood, I get Lost in  Damascus, and hence, I simply relive every single episode of it. Alhamdulillah.”

 Thank You for bringing me back our Home. For enabling me to reach the threshold of my being so that I can outreach the limits of my true self and of my senses.
 It’s that place we call Home
 my dear Rose,
 my best friend a jamais …
Christmas in Damascus

Photo Credit: Pinterest

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