My Friend Mona Riad al-Solh — Bride of the Month

A vision of grace and refined beauty, strutting and gliding... so appeared most of the ladies invited to Mona al-Solh's wedding party, in their glittering, flowing evening gowns.

Beauty sat enthroned in the halls of the "Normandy" that night and spread its wings everywhere... in the decorated corners... on the laughing mirrors... around the baskets of roses and lilies... on the walls... among the folds of the gowns, and in the faces and necks and wrists...

The bride was the sweetest of the evening's sweet ones; in her magnificent gown she looked like one of the houris of paradise, and at her side stood the prince of her dreams, Talal, the two of them together receiving congratulations and good wishes with a broad, serene smile and laughing glances. Around her were the bride's beautiful sisters and the maids of honor, and beside her sat Mona's mother, Mrs. Fayza, joyful and sorrowful at once, like every mother at such a moment... her string of pearls has begun to come unstrung, and there is no help for it.

The guests stayed on past midnight, chatting and conversing around tables laden with every delicacy. As for the bride, she slipped away quietly, after passing before the guests to bid them farewell in a charming procession in which walked the maids of honor, her sisters, and some members of her family.

★

It is easy for me to speak of Mona, for we grew up together in one school — Alia, Lamia, Mona, and I — and Mona was the youngest among us: the youngest in years, not in mind! For she used to captain her companions, forming from them a strong band that remained in feud, quarrel, and war with the boys of the school (the Laïque school for girls). Many a time some of those warriors would come home in a state to be pitied and wept over... by the mothers, of course! This one had lost the sleeves of his shirt entirely... that one had torn his clothes and looked like one of the war's vagabonds, and that girl had lost her red hair ribbon and her braids had come tumbling loose!

That is what happened in the past, of course, and bygones are bygones! One never tires of stories like these, however often one turns them over in memory... stories of innocent recklessness and impromptu childhood enmities!

Mona would lead the demonstrations on national occasions, and she took part in charitable works of every kind in the days of the Palestine catastrophe: she went about with her sisters Alia and Lamia and some colleagues, young men and women, collecting donations for the refugees of Palestine; she was likewise among those who organized Palestine Day in past years; and often Mona would visit the refugee camps with some companions, men and women, to distribute among them the clothes, food, and money she had gathered for them.

Thus Mona, like her sisters, took part in charitable and patriotic works, and she was distinguished by her strong personality and her boldness in expressing her opinions. At school she kept steadily at her lessons, even if she sometimes grumbled at how many they were.

She is one of those who face accomplished facts and do not fear what the future holds hidden. With her friends she is merry, "lovable," quick-witted, quick with a joke — like her father before her. She has also mastered the art of imitating certain Lebanese dialects: she speaks in the accent of the mountain folk and of the people of Basta in Beirut with an astonishing skill in which only Alia and Lamia can keep up with her — but she shows that hobby of hers only to her friends!

And Mona is one of those elegant women whom the fashions do not enslave... she wears what suits her, not what suits the mannequins of "Jacques Fath" and the whims of "Christian Dior."

I will not dwell on the news of her marriage and its story, for the newspapers and magazines have expatiated in speaking of it... and whatever news passes among people's tongues and pens, they magnify it, color it, and pepper it, whether they know it or not. And we Easterners love to pepper everything — even what we hear or what we say!!

As for Mona's future, it is not entirely fixed — and why not, when all people hold that the future truly rests in God's hand — except that she will live in Riyadh part of the time and come back to Lebanon the rest, where the palace of "al-Riyad" at Louaizeh awaits her. She is, in any case, most optimistic and hopeful about her future... for she is one of those who distinguish between what is worn out among the traditions and what deserves respect and regard. And many think the opposite. So tell them, Mona, that there is no longer any fortified aristocracy drunk on grandeur, blinded by glory, and made idle by gold! Tell them that princedom is a giving that will not tire and a bounty that will not run dry... tell them that you will not live for your palaces alone.

The picture of your marriage in most of their minds is a gleaming diamond necklace, a rare ring the girls sigh for, and a blazing crown that foreheads dream of wearing. So hasten to replace that picture in their minds — for you have wanted, from the beginning, the meaning of your marriage to be far more than that...