Princess Sultana's Daughters

investing money in that
country.
    Kareem rewarded Abdullah with an approving
smile. My husband is a man who seeks economic opportunity at every
chance, and our son’s previous lack of interest in such matters had
always been a weight on his mind. But Kareem’s smile quickly
vanished when Abdullah added that the infrastructure of Lebanon was
al- most completely in ruins and that there were many good causes
to which Kareem could donate funds.
    I almost dissolved in laughter when I saw
Kareem’s face. He sat up straight and tried to show some interest,
but my husband had difficulty concealing his desperation; he looked
at his son as if seeing him for the first time.
    I knew that my husband had not yet recovered
from Abdullah’s proud announcement that he had donated the bulk of
the one million dollars he had taken from our safe to the hospital
that housed Jafer’s older brother. My husband had no heart to
reprimand his son for such a good deed and had gazed at Abdullah
with sad affection, in spite of his dismay at losing one million
dollars.
    Kareem confessed to me later that in his mind
donating money to Lebanon was equivalent to tossing good money
after bad, for who knew when the guns of destruction would once
again flame across the Lebanese sky. Let the Lebanese show that
they were serious about peace, and Kareem would look into the
possibility of assisting his fellow Arabs.
    Abdullah had been stricken by the lack of
facilities at the institution that housed Jafer’s brother, and now
he spoke again of that place. He said that he could not forget the
wretched condition of the war-wounded who lived in the hospital.
Abdullah’s eyes welled with tears as he told of men and women
without limbs, confined to small rooms, for there were no
prostheses or wheel-chairs. Abdullah had discovered men tied to
wooden tables, men who had no movement in their bodies, men
stoically accepting the idea of a life devoid of any pleasure.
    Abdullah said he had learned a tragic truth,
that a large number of the Lebanese wounded had no surviving family
members to provide funds for their care.
    In anguish, he asked, “Does the world neither
know nor care about the damage done to that country?”
    I reminded Abdullah of a happy thought, that
Jafer’s brother had been luckier than most, since Jafer had
routinely sent money for his medical expenses. But even his
situation was bleak when compared to the advanced health care
facilities our oil wealth guaranteed the inhabitants of Saudi
Arabia. Jafer’s brother would now enjoy the latest treatment
available, for Fouad had insisted upon taking his son-in-law’s
brother home with them to live as one of his family.
    Now our son wanted his father to distribute
more of his personal wealth for the needy of Lebanon. Abdullah
thought that a new hospital supplied with the latest equipment
would be an auspicious beginning.
    I leaned forward, interested to hear my
husband’s reply, for I knew it was painful for Kareem to refuse any
wish of his beloved son.
    Kareem had closed his eyes in concentration
and was beginning to rub his forehead with his hand when without
warning our family gathering was interrupted by a most pathetic
howling.
    Baffled, we looked at each other and then
realized that the strange noise was coming from inside our villa
and that the sound was made by Fatma!
    A look of relief flashed across Kareem’s
face, for his son’s interest had been diverted. Abdullah was the
first to move inside. My daughters and I quickly followed, leaving
Kareem alone on the veranda.
    My first thought was that Fatma had burned
herself, for she was standing over the kitchen stove, frying beef
and onions for our dinner. But I quickly saw that her weeping had
not interrupted her cooking, for she continued to stir the
ingredients in the pan and seemed not to realize that her wails had
penetrated the stone walls of the villa.
    “Fatma! What is the problem?” Abdullah
asked.
    Like the voice of doom, Fatma replied, “Oh,
Abdullah! The female most blessed is she that has never been born!
Next to her in happiness is the female who dies in infancy!”
    Bereaved to madness, Fatma began to thump her
chest.
    Maha grabbed the wooden stirring spoon from
her hand, while Amani began to console the poor woman with soothing
sounds and comforting words.
    Abdullah gave me a questioning look with his
brown eyes.
    I shrugged, as confused as he. I had no
thought other than that Fatma’s husband might have divorced her