A Box Full of Memories

One day we had a family gathering; Everybody was busy laughing with each other. I was sitting right beside my grandmother and overheard her tell my father that she had a secret chest made of al sedra hidden under her bed. “A box that is full of memories that can never be replaced or forgotten.”

 

Women were waving to the sea, saying goodbye to their fathers and husbands. It seemed they were leaving for months.

 

I tried to leave the gathering as soon as I heard her talking about that box, I was so curious to know what memories it carried. I ran as fast as I could so that no one could see me. I entered the room, looked under the bed and found an old wooden chest, rich with the scent of cedar. It had a traditional design from long ago, edged in gold on the corners. I tried to open it, but it was locked. I kept trying until it opened without a key. I looked inside and saw an envelope with this written across it, “Deep in the heart, never forgotten.”

 

I opened it; and was transported back to another place, back to the golden days of the Emirates. Women were waving to the sea, saying goodbye to their fathers and husbands. It seemed they were leaving for months.

 

I wished that I could have stayed with her, to see what she had been through.

 

I asked a lady that was standing right beside me.

 

“Why are they leaving and why do you seem so sad?”

 

I stood there alone soaking up their sadness.

 

She looked at me and replied in a depressed voice, “They will leave us for a long time, because they will collect pearls for us to wear and sell, so we can live.”

 

I asked her name because she seemed familiar to me. She replied, “I am Hessa Bent Saif.” She turned her face and left with the rest of the women. I stood there alone soaking up their sadness.

 

Suddenly, I was back in my grandmother’s room. I heard her footsteps coming and so I closed the box and put it back where I found it. The woman I talked to was my grandmother, I recognized her. I wished that I could have stayed with her, to see what she had been through. Living alone in a house without a father or a husband.

 

I understood why the box was special to her, and it became special to me too.

 

by Muzna Khalifa AlMansoori

Illustration by: Khawla Ali Al Marzouqi

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