Princess Sultana's Circle

sample the tastiest
morsels while I sit quietly.
    My desire is that you go
first, in every occasion of earthly life.
    Only once will I go before
you,
    And that will be at my last
moment.
    For when death claims us,
you must go last.
    Because I can’t live one
second without you.
     
    Kareem kissed my
hands.
    Overwhelmed with emotion, I
couldn’t speak. Finally I sputtered, “Kareem, that’s the most
beautiful thing you’ve ever said. The most wonderful gift you could
have ever given me, you have just laid at my feet.” I added, “A
basket of diamonds would offer less pleasure.”
    Kareem arched his eyebrows
in amusement. “Oh? Be careful what you say, Sultana, or I’ll give
the basket of diamonds to beggars.”
    I smiled.
    Kareem stroked my face with
his hand. “Now, Sultana, tell me, did you enjoy your shopping
trip?”
    I felt a flash of guilt. I
am indeed fortunate to have a husband who provides me with my every
desire. “Of course, darling. I had a most wonderful time. I bought
many lovely items. No man that I know is more generous toward his
family.”
    My words greatly pleased
Kareem.
    It is a source of great
pride for our Saudi husbands that they are able to acquire anything
that their wives and children might covet. There is a heated
competition between the Al Sa’ud men as each attempts to surpass
the other in buying their families the rarest adornments and the
most precious possessions.
    But secretly, the
high-priced trinkets that money could buy were ceasing to bring
Kareem’s wife joy or happiness.
    In the past, I had sought
solace for my problems by buying many beautiful and expensive
possessions. But something had changed. I realized that spending
sprees like mine that morning would no longer provide me with the
needed psychological consolation.
    What was happening to me?
Was I becoming like Maysa? I wondered. Such a change in personality
would disrupt everything familiar in our lives. Certainly, Kareem
would not know how to react to a woman who had lost her fondness
for expensive jewels and beautiful clothes. I did not want a
barrier between my husband and me. Eventually I would have to share
these strange and new sensibilities with Kareem. But not today. We
were both exhausted.
    Kareem continued to worry
about my lingering depression, and since he was going to be busy
with business meetings, he asked Sara to keep a close watch on me
for the remainder of the trip.
    Sara insisted that we enjoy
whatever New York City had to offer, and we did. We saw two
Broadway plays, visited the American Museum of Natural History and
the Guggenheim Museum, and dined at some of the finest restaurants
in the world, Le Bernardin, Le Cirque, Lutece, and The Quilted
Giraffe.
    The day before we were to
depart New York City, I received the parcel from my friend, Anne. I
ripped it open and carefully studied its contents. I was pleased to
see that a color photograph of little Heidi was enclosed. She was a
beautiful child with a big smile.
    Several typed pages of
information were also enclosed, including facts about other young
children stolen by Saudi fathers from their American mothers and
taken out of the country without permission. I was shocked to learn
that over ten thousand children, nearly two thousand of them
American, had been illegally taken from their non-Arab mothers by
their Saudi fathers, and were now living in Saudi
Arabia.
    As I read individual
stories of young children who had not seen their mothers for many
years, I wept. The pain of losing a child was worse than any other
loss, of that, I was certain.
    Sifting through the
material, I saw a photograph of Heidi’s father, Abdulbaset
Al'Omary. Physically, he was not an unattractive man, yet, from
what I knew of his behavior, I could find nothing to
admire.
    If only I could reach this
man. I would plead for him to return his child to her mother.
Unfortunately, Margaret McClain had been unsuccessful in her
efforts to discover an address or telephone number for her former
husband, and the chances of finding Heidi were slim
indeed.
    I left New York City in a
melancholy frame of mind. Traveling with my family and friends on
our private airplane, my mood was somber. I removed myself from the
jovial atmosphere and sat apart from the other
passengers.
    Sara glanced toward me
protectively, but she did not attempt to draw me into the women’s
circle. Huda was absorbed in a lengthy story of a special dish that
she had savored at Bouley’s, one of New York