Read Online Before We Say Goodbye by Gabriella Ambrosio - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Gabriella Ambrosio
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often plant a tree and give it the child’s name, and the child would grow up with the photograph of the tree on the wall beside the bed. She realized her hands were still plunged firmly into the earth, and she thrust her fingers in even deeper. Now she was breathing directly through her hands, from the earth. And she felt that this land was their land, just as their fathers had promised. The sky looked down on her.
Yes, this land was beneath them, in this part of the world that was their home. Somewhere in this land the roots of her tree clung deeply to the earth. And each of the trees around her was someone’s tree, a tree that had put down roots here and here rose up towards the sun.
Michael too was somewhere, around here: and he had certainly come to the same conclusions. Michael had ended in this land. By now he could no longer leave.
Neither could she.
All was still now. The patch of trees barely trembled around her. It seemed to her that it was already Saturday, when time stops and you feel closer to eternity. Today was her own personal Shabbat, and she would celebrate it all the way.
She thought about when her father had still lived with them.
Her mother had stopped being religious a long time ago; and since her father had left home, little by little they had forgotten all the customs, even eating kosher. But when her father had been there, Shabbat had been untouchable. They would light the candles, recite the prayers and share the wine and the salted bread. No one did anything on that day, and it was nice just to spend time together and talk.
Come to think of it, her father’s words had been special.
“God is you,” he would tell her. “He is you when you read a poem in your room. He is you when you learn something new. He is you when you say no to arrogance, when you refuse to condone an injustice.”
These were the things her father would say to her on those Shabbat days.
It was now that she suddenly felt sweep over her all the grief she had never allowed herself to feel since he had left home. A knife began gradually to dissect her breast, her weeping heart. She surrendered herself to it.
Along the way she had lost many things that could have been hers, but when? Without even noticing, without even understanding. She missed her father. She missed him very much. He would have helped her – now that she understood his words better.
She rubbed away the tears that had fallen under her chin. I am God, she said to herself. If there was an energy that made the grass sprout from the earth, that same energy could also run through her and take her far. Although she didn’t understand how, she felt that something was changing.
Around her were only crows, cypresses, olive trees. But the answer was gradually making its way inside her.
D IMA WOULD LIKE TO STOP
Dima had left Bethlehem and the checkpoint behind her; the hardest part was done. Now the path led downhill and entered a patch of bushes, concealing the red van from view. When she emerged from it, she would find the agreed place just behind her.
All of a sudden she felt tired, and she became aware that the bag was heavy and the strap was cutting into her shoulder. She was tempted to stop for a moment and carefully lay the bag on the ground so she could massage her aching shoulder and stiff arms. No one would see her if she stopped. She wanted to stop, she felt extremely tired, she could stop in the shade for a few minutes. Just like that, without thinking about anything.
But her feet carried on taking one step after another. With horror she realized she was no longer in control of her movements.
As the crows cawed at her and the view opened out again towards the marble cutter’s, she could no longer stop.
M YRIAM LOOKS UP AT THE SKY, THEN REMEMBERS THE SHOPPING
In a few days the celebrations would begin for Pesach, the Jewish Easter. Once again, at table with all her relatives on the first night, it would be her youngest cousin’s turn to say,
Yes, this land was beneath them, in this part of the world that was their home. Somewhere in this land the roots of her tree clung deeply to the earth. And each of the trees around her was someone’s tree, a tree that had put down roots here and here rose up towards the sun.
Michael too was somewhere, around here: and he had certainly come to the same conclusions. Michael had ended in this land. By now he could no longer leave.
Neither could she.
All was still now. The patch of trees barely trembled around her. It seemed to her that it was already Saturday, when time stops and you feel closer to eternity. Today was her own personal Shabbat, and she would celebrate it all the way.
She thought about when her father had still lived with them.
Her mother had stopped being religious a long time ago; and since her father had left home, little by little they had forgotten all the customs, even eating kosher. But when her father had been there, Shabbat had been untouchable. They would light the candles, recite the prayers and share the wine and the salted bread. No one did anything on that day, and it was nice just to spend time together and talk.
Come to think of it, her father’s words had been special.
“God is you,” he would tell her. “He is you when you read a poem in your room. He is you when you learn something new. He is you when you say no to arrogance, when you refuse to condone an injustice.”
These were the things her father would say to her on those Shabbat days.
It was now that she suddenly felt sweep over her all the grief she had never allowed herself to feel since he had left home. A knife began gradually to dissect her breast, her weeping heart. She surrendered herself to it.
Along the way she had lost many things that could have been hers, but when? Without even noticing, without even understanding. She missed her father. She missed him very much. He would have helped her – now that she understood his words better.
She rubbed away the tears that had fallen under her chin. I am God, she said to herself. If there was an energy that made the grass sprout from the earth, that same energy could also run through her and take her far. Although she didn’t understand how, she felt that something was changing.
Around her were only crows, cypresses, olive trees. But the answer was gradually making its way inside her.
D IMA WOULD LIKE TO STOP
Dima had left Bethlehem and the checkpoint behind her; the hardest part was done. Now the path led downhill and entered a patch of bushes, concealing the red van from view. When she emerged from it, she would find the agreed place just behind her.
All of a sudden she felt tired, and she became aware that the bag was heavy and the strap was cutting into her shoulder. She was tempted to stop for a moment and carefully lay the bag on the ground so she could massage her aching shoulder and stiff arms. No one would see her if she stopped. She wanted to stop, she felt extremely tired, she could stop in the shade for a few minutes. Just like that, without thinking about anything.
But her feet carried on taking one step after another. With horror she realized she was no longer in control of her movements.
As the crows cawed at her and the view opened out again towards the marble cutter’s, she could no longer stop.
M YRIAM LOOKS UP AT THE SKY, THEN REMEMBERS THE SHOPPING
In a few days the celebrations would begin for Pesach, the Jewish Easter. Once again, at table with all her relatives on the first night, it would be her youngest cousin’s turn to say,
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