It was a winter day in the year of 1961 , outside it was still cold and dark so dark that if you stretch your hand you won't see it , as old people prefer to describe darkness,a cold and quiet morning except for dogs barking here and there .Life was coming back slowly to that small village which overlooks a valley and is opposite to another smaller village on the other side of that valley. The village was now at peace after last night's storm , there were heavy rains with north winds. It was six am , the lights were on ;the inhabitants were getting out of their warm beds , one would think they would have different destinations , different jobs ,different occupations and different dreams. But it's not the case there because there weren't many choices for them. The majority were miners . Three or four families had farms where they grew fruit trees and vegetables and keep animals for milk , meat and eggs. There were also three groceries , two green groceries and one butcher , one school , one health unit , one turkish bath , a post And that was it .
Children ,too, had to get up early to go to school , they had to attend the first classes that started at 7:30 . Those who lived near the school were luckier than the other children . They didn't have to leave so early like other children who came from remote places and from houses that were scattered on hills ,mounds and in the woods. To be in time , they would leave their warm cosy houses while it was still dark wearing heavy large coats , large enough to cover their small bodies and rubber boots long enough to cover their legs nothing of their bodies was seen . Parents didn't care about size when they did shopping for children , they baught larger sizes so that they wouldn't worry about winter clothes for at least three or four more coming winters .You see large coats and boots just stumbling along the muddy route , the strong wind drove them to school pushing them to right , to the left , sometimes forward and at other times backward playing tricks on them all the way to school . They were so brave that they walked to school while it was still dark and faced all sorts of fear . Fear from the known and the unknown , the fear that something might happen to them on their way to school.Every here and there we heard many stories of children who died in floods or carried and driven away by water . One of my uncles once witnessed an awful thing like that , he saw a young school girl who was fighting for her life calling for help while being carried by water , she was lucky he was there , other children didn't make it.There were stories of children who drowned .On hot days some children might choose to put their school bags away and go into fresh cool water, and once in wdater , the current takes their little weak bodies to peril.Some other stories about children who were killed by wild animals.
Those kids werere brave and great little creatures who dared to face death , to see their friends die and great enough to survive , to come to school while exhausted and hungry
to attend lessons while their clothes were wet and their boots were muddy , to stand up for expectations and mostly to succeed at school.
And great to be so great yet nobody was able to recognize that greatness and to value their courage .
In that small cosy kitchen Fatiha had already baked some bread and had put the kettle on fire , it was whistling and releasing a vibrating smell that enhanced comfort and happiness. The last person to join the family at the table was Boushra , she entered dancing on her toes her head was up , her back was straight moving around like a ballet dancer.
- Wow ! what a smell coffee and bread ....
-Sit down and try to be quiet said her brother karim.
- Look at her she's five years and six months and behaves like a baby.
- What's wrong ,Leila ?
-Nothing is wrong , just try not to make noise.Answered Karim
-HE is sleeping and HE doesn't want to be disturbed . Said her mother
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