The Wise Man and the Girl.
His name was Mohammad azZurgani but for me, he was just Jeddi (grandpa). It a typical hot day in 1985 Tripoli, and my Jeddi had taken me out on a walk around the city. He was a tall man who like all his contemporaries wore a long white shawl around him, an Arab cap called a tagiye, a waistcoat over a long white shirt, and baggy pants. To me, he looked regal, like a wise sage. As usual, as he was holding my little hand in his, he was telling me a story. A marvelous story about a brave princess from the desert who was on an amazing quest to find her treasure. The treasure was a magical necklace as powerful as Aladin's lamp and the best part was that I was the princess. The princess traveled to Baghdad and Persia fighting villains and solving riddles until her quest led her to right that very spot upon which we were standing at the feet of a huge palm tree. I looked up at the majestic tree as my Jeddi pointed his walking stick to its base and beckoned me to start digging under the tree. I rushed to the tree and there under a lump of sand was a wonderful toy necklace. I was elated. I had made it. I had found my treasure. I revisit this childhood story often. My Jeddi was telling me that if I fight my battles and persevere I would fulfill my destiny. I would find my treasure. He has been gone from this plane for nearly 30 years now and I realize that he was my treasure. To be invested with such love and attention is a priceless gift. My Jeddi is gone but he is very much present within me. A voice inside which is ever patient, ever kind, and believes unwaveringly in me. This is the force that helped me start Safia. To leave my stable job and go on an adventure. It was my Jeddi egging me on the journey to fulfill my destiny. A destiny that indeed did take me on a quest to the east and the discovery of a treasure that I called Safia.