The soul of my soul ..

In memory of Sheikh Khaled Al Nabhan known as " The soul of my soul"

The sobbing reached the room where all the children of the family had gathered, waiting for the elders to give them permission to leave. All the mothers were in the classroom, which had been transformed into a shelter for displaced families. It had been emptied of almost everything to make room for the women of all the displaced families, who came to confirm for themselves whether Reem had truly become a martyr. Outside the room, nothing moved in the corridor. The clock on the cracked wall had stopped. The chickens in the schoolyard lay still on the ground. The puppy that had been playing with Reem until this morning had stopped moving and stayed by the grandfather's shadow, or "Sheikh Khalid" as everyone calls him. Even "Sheikh Khalid", whose movements never stopped during the day as he went from one neighbor's house to another, suddenly grew old. His feet no longer carried him. From the moment he entered the school carrying the child’s body, everything changed. The door of the room where the rest of the children were placed let in a little light, which seeped into the corridor where the grandfather sat, casting his shadow long—longer than usual. In the reflection of his shadow on the wall, his beard appeared like rays of midday sun, shining and stretching out.The wailing grew louder suddenly, and life seemed to return to the house as soon as the first of the women exited the room where they had gathered. Everything moved, except for the grandfather. He remained in place, his feet unable to carry him, his gaze distant, his face calm, his tears falling silently. He tried to put a smile on his lips to reassure everyone that he was still aware of what was around him, but his heart could not allow him to smile.The woman carrying the small body approached "Sheikh Khalid" and handed her to him. He extended his hand, took her gently, and held her to his chest. He inhaled deeply, as if trying to absorb her spirit for the last time. His smile gradually returned, and he began speaking to her: "Wake up, Reem, wake up, my dear. I brought you some sweets. Let’s go to the kids and share them, let’s play with them."Reem did not respond, but the sounds of crying and wailing grew louder, and the children began to spread out in the corridor. None of them understood what was going on around them, but they sensed that the grandfather had grown older than he had been just hours ago. Something had happened to him, something that made the man whose laughter used to fill the house, the neighboring houses, and the streets seem like someone who had just emerged from under the rubble. He wasn’t sure if he was still alive or if he had already surrendered his soul and Reem’s soul to their Creator in the sky.A little girl approached the Sheikh, pulling his shawl down to him so that she could see Reem in her blue pants and red-and-blue striped jacket up close. He lowered himself, and all the children gathered around him, asking why Reem wasn’t moving. One said: "I know, she’s pretending to be asleep." Another said, "No, Reem became a martyr." A third said, "No, Reem didn’t become a martyr... Reem doesn’t die."Sheikh Khalid smiled, and it seemed like his face might crack from the force of his smile. The last time he smiled with Reem was just hours ago, when he left the house carrying her on his shoulders. As usual, she played with his white turban with her small hands, and he pretended to nibble on her fingers, which were like little sticks wrapped in cotton candy. They walked outside, with chickens, a rooster, and the puppy following them, and butterflies and little bees fluttering around them, as if trying to drink the last nectar from Reem.The grandfather remembered that on their way—towards doom without him knowing—they passed by "Sabera", the grandmother. She was sitting in front of her tent made of flour sacks, looking at the weary passersby, calling each one by name and asking them how they were, how their families were, and whether they had heard any news about when the war would end. When the grandfather and Reem passed by her with him carrying her on his shoulders, she didn’t just ask the usual question, which she had memorized by heart and never expected an answer to. Her face lit up, and she sat up straight as if she had seen an angel from the sky: "Welcome, my dear ones, welcome to you."The grandfather bent down to kiss her head and took a small bouquet of flowers from a bag he was carrying, flowers he had picked from behind the school wall where his family lived. He had planned to pass by Sabera's tent, known as the mother of the martyrs. Before continuing on his way, Sabera prayed with him, "Go, may God bless your soul.

Before even he moves, a shell fell, landing in the middle of her tent. Sabera joined her martyrs immediately, while Khalid and Reem fell to the ground amid the screams of children and women, with the enemy planes still buzzing above them even after completing their mission. The grandfather, Khalid, remembered that after he regained consciousness, he started searching for Reem: "Reem, Reem, where are you, my dear? Reem..." Before he could finish his sentence, he saw Reem on the ground. He called her, again and again, but Reem had already surrendered her soul to her Creator... not alone, but dozens of children, women, and elderly people had joined the martyrs in this new massacre by the occupation. The grandfather, Sheikh Khalid, was awakened from his thoughts by the sound of an ambulance and paramedics. One of them asked him to place Reem's body next to another child’s body, a child who was only a few months old. The grandfather did not speak. He continued holding the cloth containing Reem's body, which felt like a cloud, his tears like raindrops that gathered in his eyes but refused to fall. One of the men said, "There is no god but God," as if trying to draw any word or cry from the grandfather. The grandfather continued to hold his granddaughter, inhaling her, caressing her small face with his beard, opening her eyes, and planting a kiss on her right eye, then on her left. Then the first words escaped from the Sheikh's throat: "She is the soul of my soul... She is the soul of my soul... She is the soul of my soul...

Sheikh Khaled and Reem by the artist Sally Samir