A Letter from Mr. Filib Muslim (Jerusalem)

◄ And from Mr. Filib Muslim of Jerusalem comes a word full of lofty literary grace and sweet elegance.

With much regret we apologize for not publishing the beautiful story that Mr. Muslim sent us, because it was long delayed in the mail, so that long months now lie between it and Easter. Here is the beautiful letter that Mr. Muslim enclosed with his splendid story:

Honorable Madam,

Warm greetings... and now, here before you is this little story, entitled "On the Third Day," which I send to the illustrious magazine "The Woman's Voice" in answer to the request of a sister of mine...

As for how that came about... it is a matter of long consideration and short... a little... and a lot... — One evening, while the household were leafing through the pages of the magazine, one of my sisters sprang up, saying:

— Why don't you write to "The Woman's Voice"?...

— I have turned my path away from the face of every woman, sister... even from her voice!...

— But if you listened, you would hear a voice the like of which your ear has never known... Send them, brother, one of your stories...

— And which story?!...

— Whichever you wish... "On the Third Day," for instance... Easter is not far off, so it would be published in its season...

— Well then...

And so...

As for the writer of this little story, he is a young man from Lebanon, from the depths of Lebanon, who graduated from the American University, Beirut, then studied law at the Institute of Law in Jerusalem, and here he is, still teaching the Arabic language at one of the national colleges of this country — and before all this and after it, he has been enamored of the story for no small time, practicing it in reading, in writing, and in broadcasting...

As for this "On the Third Day," it is one of those stories that have not yet been broadcast, and it holds as much of the scrutiny of reality as it holds of the suggestion of imagination — according to what is set down in the books, and what is not...

This, and if you are content, Madam, with its hurried words — or if you ladies are content — then I shall have done no more than a small part of what is mine to do and what is owed by me!...

Please accept my respects.

Jerusalem, March 6, 1948