My Friend Salma

...bending tenderly over her only daughter, Aida

From Oxford, Mrs. Anbara Salam Khalidi answered the invitation of "The Woman's Voice," and her graceful pen set down this splendid analysis of Salma — whom she accompanied as a fellow fighter, and loved as a friend and woman of letters...

Never have I seen divine generosity pour out its gifts upon any human being as I saw it lavish them upon Salma, showering bounty and heaping gift upon gift. And never have I witnessed divine power let fate loose upon a person — robbing her of the right to enjoy those gifts, and denying her the sweetness of contentment in that bounty — as I witnessed it bear down upon Salma, growing ever harsher in cruelty,

ever more relentless in deprivation.

Salma was given the good family; the refined circle was prepared for her; she was adorned with dazzling beauty and rare intelligence, granted the great heart and the delicate sensibility, and perfected with lofty letters and abundant learning. Then she had the noble character, the merry spirit, the fluent tongue, the obedient pen, the companionable presence — and that pure spring of inexhaustible love, and that eager vitality which she enlisted in the service of her homeland and its children, driving her with ardor toward her highest aims until she took her place in the front rank of the first pioneers. Her sincerity in work moved her to give her heart and her time to everyone she felt was in need of her. Her overflowing tenderness embraced all who were bound to her by any tie — and all who were not. Hers was the open hand, extended to those who sought her help and to those who did not; hers the generous tear, the joyous

laugh, the gracious, winning womanliness and the tender, overwhelming motherliness.

But fate lay in wait for her. It denied her early the affection of parents and the pampering of childhood; then it robbed her of the settled, happy home, though every quality of the ideal housewife was hers in full measure. It struck at her motherhood, snatching from her the child who had been her hope and her expectation. It withheld from her the right to a tranquil, easy life and left her to struggle along life's thorny, rugged roads, which she trod with tender feet and patient endurance. It showed her the world's meanness, and she faced it smiling and pretending not to see. It made her taste the bitterness of suffering, and she withdrew into herself to drink it down alone — no complaint, no moan.

And the fates went on

testing her, and she met the test well; then testing her again, and again she met it well — until the strength that heart had been storing up was spent, and it sank beneath its burden; yet her courage never ran out, nor did the struggle bring her to her knees.

Salma will remain through all time a shining light, an everlasting smile, a fragrant perfume, an immortal memory, a fluttering banner among the banners of the Arab women's renaissance. She will remain a symbol of silent, bitter struggle and unceasing pain.

And this lofty place of deep love and sure admiration will be kept for her in my heart and in the hearts of the many women who were blessed by her nearness, so long as faithfulness endures and life lasts.

Oxford, 22 Tishrin 1953

Anbara Salam Khalidi
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