AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Facing my parents’ disappointment,” Maryam tells me, and my heart slams against my rib cage so hard, I fear it’ll leave bruises. “When I told my dad, he didn’t even say a word. He was so…quiet. But I could see the life fading in his eyes, his pride for me — replaced with silent disappointment. I had never seen my mother that angry before. But she didn’t yell at me. She was screaming at my dad. For letting me go. She blamed him. The next day, they dropped me here, at the facility. I wish they had told me that they weren’t angry with me. I wish they told me they didn’t hate me. And I really wish my dad had hugged me.”
“How do you deal with it?” I choke out, the lump in my throat growing heavier than I can possibly bear. I can’t breathe. “The feeling of uselessness, their disappointment, the guilt and the fear. God, Maryam. The fear of not being enough. How do you deal with it?”
She touches the hem of her hijab, but it’s almost like an unconscious action. “Everyone is on their own journey with their faith. I believe that God always finds us at our lowest, and then shows us the path that’s right for us. We believe in Qadar, in other word, divine fate, or I guess destiny, you can say. My mother used to say that believing in it would keep us from being excessively proud or excessively miserable. Because, whatever good, or whatever bad happens to us is the will of God. Sometimes we can have everything at the tips of our fingers —money, fame, richness and respect. Everything we desire. But then, in the blink of an eye, it’s all gone. That’s why believing in Qadar has us acknowledging the bad with persistence and humbleness, as opposed to sadness and disappointment.”
After the Christmas party, I remember being filled with so much anger and hatred. I screamed at how unfair it was; I questioned God or whatever High Power was listening to me. I felt betrayed by destiny and I became hostile.
“God is merciful, and we believe that He pardons those who are truly asking for forgiveness. So, if He can forgive us, then we should be able to forgive ourselves.”
While I had been so angry at my situation…
Maryam was seeking comfort in her faith.
I was filled with so much self-loathing and resentment, and Maryam was reconciling with herself, coming to peace with her situation.
“How?” I whisper. “How do we forgive ourselves?”
Dr. Bailey said the same thing. To accept, to forgive and to let go of self-resentment. She said those three things were essential in our healing process, so that we can move on.
But, how?
How do I accept that none of this was my fault?
How do I forgive myself for mistakes that were beyond my control?
And how do I let go of all this self-loathing that seems to manipulate my every breath?
“I don’t know,” Maryam whispers, her eyes focused on her canvas. “But sometimes, it’s not just about forgiveness. It’s about acceptance.”
We both fall quiet again, a thoughtful silence spreading between us. Maryam keeps on painting, while I stare at my empty canvas. Finally, I dip my brush into black paint.
I don’t know how long it’s been, but everything I tried to paint didn’t feel right. So I kept painting over it with black paint. I tried flowers, grass, the moon, the starry skies…
Except nothing felt right.
The others are done with their artwork.
But I am left with only an empty, black canvas.
Maryam touches my elbow, and my eyes flicker to her easel, which she turns toward me so I can see her finished canvas. “I’m not sure, but I think if we believe in new beginnings, then it might become easier to move on,” she tells me softly.
She has painted the sunrise over a lake and the colors are vibrant and exquisite. Warm and breathtaking. A new beginning.
“Maryam,” I breathe, my voice shaking.
I finally understand what she’s been trying to say. The warmth of her sunrise leaves seeds of hope in my withered heart. I know exactly what to paint now.
Everyone takes their finished canvas and head back inside.
I stay, and finally…I dip my brush into something other than black paint. By the time I’m done, my shoulders ache, but a ghost of a smile finds its way onto my lips.
A butterfly is spread across my canvas.
Monarch butterflies represent strength and endurance. Transformation and evolution.
A new beginning.
My new beginning.
