A Christmas Miracle

3

It was only two days to the merry celebration of Xmas but the home and heart of many were rather despondent. The air was dull and morose, filled with melancholy and dismality. The harsh harmattan monsoon wind was no better. As it dried their skin, it did the same for their happiness.

But one person felt nothing.
She remembered nothing.

In a time where many called her disease a curse, It was better a blessing at this moment, preferable to remember nothing.

Hadassah kept herself busy by decorating the white Christmas tree. She added more light and ribbons.

"Hadassah." Yohance called, gazing around for his sister, stepping out from the terrace.

"Yes." She replied, concentrating keenly on the tree.

He stopped, watching her intently.

"It is Mother's birthday today." He muttered calmly.

"Mother?" She asked, diverting her questioning gaze to him.

"Yes Mother, your Mother, our Mother."

"Mother." She iterated again with a snicker. "I never thought I ever had a Mother." She added calmly and surprisedly.

He stepped closer, as he hunkered down, next to her.

"Yes, you had a Mother. She died of some medical complication and emergency while giving birth to Ussain."

"I don't remember." She replied curtly.

"I'm not asking you to even try, you'll only hurt yourself, I'm just asking you to honor her memory. She turns forty five today."

"I can't recall."

"You don't....."

"Let her be, Yohance." Osaze, the owner of the mansion, called.

"Why's that." Osaze father, Osareme, prompted.

"Because it's more like a waste of time and she might only try to hurt herself reminiscing a memory from the past."

"Let her at least partake in the family traditions. You may never know when all of the cognizance start dawning on her."

"That's practically impossible after all the medical reports."

"Truly not logical, my dear son, but I tell you, I'm a man of old who believes in miracles."

Osareme gestured to Yohance to take Hadassah along.

Hadassah was back to her business again, carefully tucking the ribbons.

"Let's go, little sis." He stood up, holding her hands as he led the way to the garden where Ussain was waiting.

Ussain had lit the candle in the garden representing her birthday. They had always celebrated Caroline's birthday this way since she had passed away six years ago. She loved spending most of her hours in gardens praying, reading her Bible and watching the beautiful flowers. It was Salim who had started this covention but the last two years, he had been absent.

But today he was present, watching them from a distance, observing them as they prayed. A futile prayer.

A vain appeal to a dead god.
He watched Yohance, the love he had for his Mother present in his eyes. But he was a fool.

His eyes lingered on Ussain as his lips moved, but no sound it made. He was dumb and young, that must be the only reason.
A god that demands you pray to him but doesn't give you the voice to do so.

He stared fixedly at Haddassah as he scrutinized her impassive expression. For the first time in his life, Salim thought his sixteen-year-old daughter most lucky and blessed.
Her young pretty eyes stared at nothing and everything at the same time. She took in everything but left nothing in her. She was everything called water and the embodiment of all called neutrality. She had been kissed by amnesia but had still been blessed.