Stories is part of our daily lives. All of us.
Remember those old good days? We would hear the stories of Princes and Princesses from our grandparents…
I remember many summer nights when the heat of Tehran was cooling down and our beds were offering a resting place from the daily childhood games and the plays outside on the street. Oh, how many games I can recall: leiley, tanab, keshbazi, these are just a few.
My grandmother would try to quiet us and make us go to sleep sooner, so our pleas for a gesehe or story would be met with a ”khob, bashe” or a hesitant “Okay,” on the condition we lie down in our beds and not to say a word!
There were only three of us children in our home with me being the eldest. I would use my authority to get my siblings to listen while they were giggling!
The story of the kind, generous, and beautiful Princess who would go out and find the world without falling for her status or name, would always amaze me. This Princess would go and sit with people living in faraway places and just enjoy the sharing of little food yet much happiness!
I wonder what my children will tell their children about the stories they heard from us, we being caught in the sorrow of migration, drawn in ourselves, with the guilt of having left our parents behind, and the nightly tears for missing home! I’m not sure about myself, yet I am sure that I have at least tried to keep a happy face and present a hopeful life for my children who were growing up away from our real home.
How about you? What stories have you told your children? Share them with us.
May 27, 2007
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