A Child... A Story in Memoirs

I have will enough to forget his love, and time will see to that; and everything time sees to is erased. So it is with my love... the days will erase it, and nothing will remain to me of it but a fragrant memory in which I shall live for a time — and perhaps in which I shall live my whole time!

- 3 -

Or was it that she refused anyone at all, and would not let him go far in loving her? I do not know, I do not know. She bewilders me, this child!! That she should love Ahmad — that is understandable; but that she should not respond, like other girls, to the instinct of the female, and let everyone who loves her go on in his love, if only to gratify her natural vanity — this is what bewilders me and makes me ask myself: is she pure and upright to this degree? Does this kind of person still exist on this earth? I do not know, and I confess that I have failed to understand her; but I looked at her, when she said this to me, with something close to astonishment — though it was nearer to admiration than to astonishment...

"I shall be traveling a month after my brother's arrival, and I too shall be away for two years. I want to know from you: will you wait for me? Or might the waiting change you?"

"As for waiting, it will not change me — I who have waited all these years without hope. As for the promise, that is what I cannot give. A day and a night will not lessen my love for the absent one who will return. And so long as I love him, I shall promise you — or any creature — nothing whatsoever. He returns in fifteen days, and I confess I fear him... or rather, I fear myself; for my love for him has not weakened to this day, nor has anything in it changed from its first moment, and I cannot picture myself belonging to anyone else... no, I cannot."

"Think it over for yourself, Samia. I shall not ask you for the answer now; I shall ask you to answer me after his return... On that day you will know how far you are able to give him up. And if your heart should incline, I am waiting... And I wish with all my heart that you may forget him, for he is married now, and love of him is a danger to you."

Then I left her, and added nothing more.

In the evening I saw my mother and asked her what my father had said. She told me he had received the news with a strange calm she had never known in him, and had said: "He is free; the deciding of his fate is in his own hands. It is he who will find happiness with her, and he who will find misery with her. God forgive him."

I did not wait for the morrow: I went and sped off a telegram to my brother, telling him to come, and to bring his wife, Madame Pauline.

October 5

Today my brother arrived. Everyone was joyful except me; even Samia herself seemed to have forgotten that he had married, and appeared in her prettiest clothes, with her two braids pinned up high, to look older than she really was, so that Pauline would not see her as a child...

When we reached the airport, and Ahmad and his wife came down from the plane, everyone went up to greet them. Ahmad greeted them all; then, when he saw Samia, he looked at her a long while and said: "No, I shall not be able to lift you up and kiss you — you have become a very beautiful young lady..." Then he went on: "But who cares for the conventions! To me you will always be just as you were" — and he raised her in his arms and kissed her. He looked at Pauline and said: "This is my little imp of a child that I told you about." Pauline looked her over with a scrutinizing eye and, as though she believed that Samia really was a child, bent over her and kissed her.

How did she have the strength to appear as she did — a child who had never loved, never adored? I do not know how she managed to hide her feelings; her manner went back to what it had been a month before — she went back to skipping and playing as though nothing had happened... What astonished me even more was that she seemed to love my brother's wife: she stayed at her side all the way back from the airport, telling her about everything we passed on the road, laughing and delighting — so much so that my brother's wife said to him, "How I wish I might be granted a little girl who would turn out like Samia, so pretty and so sweet."

At home I kept watching her; the far-away look showed on her only at scattered intervals, when she would gaze into the distance and then return once more to her gaiety.

October 7

Today we went to Samia's house. I had wanted, today, to ask her her mind, for she goes off to school tomorrow and perhaps I shall not see her again until at the airport on the day of my departure. On the visit were my brother, his wife, and I. When we started up the pick-up, I asked Samia to dance; she looked at me, laughing, and said, "I'm afraid I'd step on your feet — I am not clever at dancing."

My brother looked at her and said: "You are still ill-mannered and long of tongue, and I'll show him how to bring you up." Then he asked her to dance with him, and when she rose, he took hold of her by the ears and lifted her into the air while she struggled to break free, kicking with her feet; then he set her down on the floor and kissed her, laughing — and she punched him with both her fists and slipped away in flight, her face the color of blood...

I understood that she still loved him... and that my hope of her was slight. But I would not give in; I wanted to try my luck... For the second time I invited her to dance; then, for the last time, I asked her: will you wait for me?

I had expected her to congratulate me, or to say anything to me other than what she said... For she looked at me with the utmost tenderness and said:

"No, I shall not be able to love you. And do not think it is on account of Ahmad — no; I have will enough to forget his love, and time will see to that, and everything time sees to must be erased. So it is with my love... the days will erase it, and nothing will remain to me of it but a fragrant memory in which I shall live for a time — and perhaps in which I shall live my whole time... But you — or anyone else — I shall never be able to love anyone with a love as strong as my first... As for waiting for you, that will do me no harm, so long as you are in no hurry... and so long as you are not bound to anyone..."

"That promise is enough for me, Samia; I am content with it, and I shall make the days remind you of me and incline your heart toward me... For now, this word is enough... Yes, it is enough."

She has promised, and that is the important thing; and I worship her, and that is what is plain... Many women have passed through my life, ripe young women... I wearied of them quickly, for the shallowness of their love and the silliness of their feelings... But now I have been struck in the very core of my vanity: I was astonished to find myself silly and shallow before a feeling as deep as this — a feeling I had not expected. It is a lesson in love that I received from a child... an innocent one... A child?! And what a child!! Rather — what a child am I!!