Simin Pourmahmoud
From the series "I write to be the voice of Gaza"
This house is far from the homes of one’s imagination. Its walls are bare and rough, made of raw concrete blocks. Sunlight filters in through gaping squares that should have become windows but never did.
In place of a carpet, a length of cloth is spread over the cement, flanked by a few narrow rugs along the edges to cushion the floor’s unyielding hardness. Curtains, crooked and cut short, serve as doors, and nails in the wall act as wardrobes. From the taciturn men sitting cross-legged, from the women whose faces are closely framed by their hijabs, and from the children running about, one can deduce that several families have merged into this single house. They are gathered for a celebration, yet all they possess is a handful of sugar confetti and a simple necklace in place of a garland of flowers.
In the very center of the gathering, where the medallion of a fine carpet should be, sits a teenage boy. His face is emaciated, and when he smiles, the hinge of his jaw juts out sharply. His yellow T-shirt is several sizes too small, making the thinness of his arms seem even more pronounced.
This fragile, skinny boy has committed every page and chapter of the Quran to memory, word by word, and his heart, like the heart of the Prophet, has become a vessel for the words of revelation. Now imagine, instead of this half-built house, a sprawling mansion stretching over several thousand square meters, surrounded by orchard-lined lanes untouched by the acrid scent of gunpowder. In place of the heavy pounding of bombs, the air is alive with the song of canaries perched upon the branches and the gentle sound of flowing water.
Tall trees encircle the mansion like a living wall. The entire courtyard is carpeted with lush grass, and a grand pool with its playful fountains multiplies the beauty. Two airy gazebos stand on the eastern and western ends of the grounds. From the comfort of their couches, one can see the floor-to-ceiling windows of the house. Behind the glass glimmer the elegant, antique furnishings that fill its rooms.
Now place these two homes upon the scales: The concrete house outweighs a thousand mansions; outweighs all the wealth one could gather.
God commanded His Prophet to proclaim this to all mankind:
“Say, ‘In Allah’s grace and His mercy—let them rejoice in that! It is better than what they amass.'" (Quran, 10:58) He has said: You must rejoice in the healing, counsel, guidance, and mercy of the Quran, for these surpass every wealth that can be accumulated.
The people of the concrete house know this well. They laugh with hearts unburdened. They have attained the greatest blessing and mercy. And like a lofty waterfall that cascades down to the earth, they prostrate in gratitude, pressing their foreheads to the soil again and again. Gratitude enriches both their worldly life and their hereafter, this too is a promise God Himself has given.
