pdf format - McMaster University

Afghan Story List 

1. Zerka’s Garden (mj) 

2. The Wisdom of Bas Bibi (mj) 

3. Making Cookies (Jo) 

4. Merza’s Heart (GM) 

5. Yunus’s Song (Jo) 

6. Leaving Home (mj) 

7. A New Friend (Jo) 

8. Reconciliation (Jo) 

9. Merza’s Anger (Jo) 

10.Making Peace (Jo) 

11.Lawang and the Ten-Foot Man (GM) 

12. A New Life (mj) 

13. Going Home (mj) 

14. Shareena and Kobra (mj) 

15. The End of the Journey (Kev) 

16. Building the Future (Jo)

Jameela’s Gifts 

Story # 1 

Written by: Mary-Jo Land 

Dr. Joanna Santa Barbara 

Dr. Graeme MacQueen 

Kevin Arthur Land 

Translated by: 

Illustrated by: Yar Mohammad Taraky 

Edited by: Kevin Arthur Land 

Project Coordinators: Dr. Seddiq Weera and 


Centre for Peace Studies, McMaster University 

Hamilton, Ontario, Canada 

This Project is Funded by CIDA 

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Story Characters: 

Jameela: a ten-year-old girl who lives with her family in a rural area of 

Afghanistan. 

Ahmed: Jameela’s five-year-old brother. 

Abdullah: Jameela’s fifteen-year-old brother. 

Haleema: The children’s mother. 

Merza: The children’s father. 

Bibi Jan: The paternal grandmother. 

Kaka Ghullam: The paternal grandfather. 

Yunus: The children’s uncle who killed by a land at age 20, youngest son of Bibi 

Jan and Kaka Ghullam. 

Fatima: The children’s aunt, young widow of Uncle Yunus. 

Aly: The children’s uncle, who lives in the city 

Aisha: The children’s aunt, Aly’s wife, who lives in the city. 

Story Synopsis: 

Jameela lives with her family in a village in Afghanistan. They were already 

experiencing a great deal of difficulty during the domestic struggles of their 

homeland when tragedy struck. After coming in contact with a land mine while 

working in the field, her Uncle Yunus was killed and her father lost a leg. 

In “Jameela’s Gifts”, Jameela and her younger brother Ahmed try to 

understand the anger and estrangement demonstrated by their older brother 

Abdullah. With the guidance of their grandmother, Bibi Jan, they learn how they 

might help him get over the loss of his Uncle Yunus, with whom he was very 

close. 

Therapeutic Elements: 

Healing images and symbols: singing, growing, nurturing, beauty, humour, 

playfulness, laughter, love, friendship, happy memories, joy 

Modeling of peaceful and virtuous interactions: cooperation, religious 

devotion, affection, industry, giving, forgiveness, empathy, appreciation of 

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virtuous actions, listening, reflection of and acceptance of feelings, caring, 

understanding, teaching 

Problem Issues: loneliness, longing for education, parental discord, sadness, 

physical and psychological trauma, anger, grief, loss, physical disability, feelings 

of worthlessness 

Healing Strategies: gardening, singing, playing, praying, giving, appreciation of 

beauty, service to others, empathy, consulting, honouring the dead, refocusing on 

happy memories 

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Jameela’s Gifts 

Jameela sat in the garden, singing. She loved to sit near the flowers and the 

vegetables and sing to them sweet songs about growing strong and beautiful. Jameela was 

waiting for her little brother, Ahmed, to return from the Mosque so that they could water 

the garden together. Then she would ask him about what he learned. Jameela missed 

going to school and was lonely when Ahmed was gone. 

Jameela did not hear Ahmed sneaking quietly up behind her. 

“ Boo!” shouted Ahmed, making Jameela jump. 

“Ahmed, don’t do that! You scared me!” Jameela cried. 

shawl. 

“Oh, Jameela, its fun to make you jump!” Ahmed replied, playfully tugging at her 

Jameela tussled his hair. “ Let’s water the garden. I have been waiting for you. It’s 

more fun to do it together. What did you learn at the Mosque today?” Jameela asked. 

“Why do you always ask me that, Jameela?” asked Ahmed impatiently. 

“ I miss my school since it closed. I don’t get to see my friends very much 

anymore,” said Jameela while she filled the watering bucket. 

“Yes, but you stay home and tend the garden and sing songs. I will tell you what I 

did at the Mosque if you sing a song for me,” bargained Ahmed with a grin. 

“First we water. Then we play.” Jameela and Ahmed poured the water bucket into 

the trough together and watched the little river run toward the garden. 

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Suddenly, their father’s raised voice startled them. He was yelling at their mother. 

Ahmed and Jameela stopped watering to listen. They looked at each other, sadly. 

hurting?” 

“ Jameela, Daddy is yelling a lot,” Ahmed said quietly. “Do you think his leg is 

“Daddy is always angry and upset since that bad day. Bibi Jan says that it will 

take a long time for him to be happy again,” replied Jameela. “She says that we should 

not be angry with Daddy when he yells. We should remember that he is sad because 

Uncle Yunus died. And he has to use those crutches now. I think that makes him angry, 

too. Bibi Jan says that Daddy misses doing his farming. She says he has too much time 

and not enough work. I wish Daddy could work again. I think he would be happy then.” 

“I miss Daddy telling me stories. He used to tell me stories everyday on the way 

to Mosque about the prophet Mohammed and all his companions.” Ahmed said 

longingly. 

“Maybe we could ask Daddy to tell us stories while we are watering in the 

garden?” suggested Jameela. The children continued to water, and there was silence from 

the house. “Let’s find the most beautiful tomato and bring it to Mama for tonight’s 

dinner.” Jameela always felt happy when she gave gifts from the garden to her family. 

As they looked through the garden, their older brother Abdullah returned from the 

fields. He walked with his head down, preoccupied, and did not notice the children. 

“Abdullah, Abdullah,” yelled Ahmed happily jumping up from the middle of the 

garden. “Look at the beautiful tomato we grew for Mama! I helped to grow it! Do you 

like it?” 

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“Ahmed, I wish you wouldn’t jump up and scare people like that. It makes me 

very angry. And I don’t care about your stupid tomato.” stormed Abdullah as he walked 

past. “ Sometimes, you are such a brat.” 

Tears stung in Ahmed’s eyes. “Sorry, Abdullah, I didn’t mean to scare you,” said 

Ahmed ruefully. 

“Don’t worry, Ahmed. Abdullah is being very mean,” consoled Jameela. 

“Abdullah, you don’t have to make him cry just because you are in a bad mood.” 

“I’ve got more important things to worry about than tomatoes, Jameela,” 

admonished Abdullah, striding away. 

“Well, do you think you could help us with our lessons later, Abdullah? I need 

some help with my writing,” asked Jameela hopefully. 

“Jameela, I have no time for your lessons. I don’t have enough time for my own. I 

must do all the farm work that Dad and Uncle Yunus used to do and do my own chores. I 

hate those stupid animals!” Abdullah strode off angrily. 

Jameela and Ahmed watch their brother sadly. 

“He used to teach me reading writing every day,” said Jameela. 

“And he used to play ball with me and Uncle Yunus” Ahmed sighed.” Maybe 

Bibi Jan knows why Abdullah doesn’t like us anymore.” 

“Ahmed, Abdullah still loves us. But maybe, Bibi Jan knows why he has changed. 

He is not the same since the landmine.” Jameela and Ahmed ran to find Bibi Jan who was 

sitting in the shade knitting a sweater for Jameela. 

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“Bibi, is my sweater almost finished?” Jameela asked excitedly, forgetting for the 

moment why she had come to see Bibi Jan. 

“Yes, my love, soon you will be wearing it.” Bibi Jan’s voice was low and sweet 

and gentle. She was known throughout the village for her wise and kind words. “That is a 

most ripe and red tomato. It must enjoy your singing, Jameela, to grow into such a fine 

tomato. And Ahmed, I noticed that you have been helping with the watering. You help 

the whole family when you help in the garden.” 

“Bibi Jan, we came to ask you why Abdullah won’t help us with our lessons 

anymore. He’s always mad at us and doesn’t spend any time with us,” said Jameela. 

“Yes, and he won’t play ball with me,” pouted Ahmed. 

“I see that you are both sad that you have not been able to learn and play with 

your big brother these last few months. This tells me that you both love him very much 

and that you miss the happier times we all enjoyed before. We must try to understand the 

sadness of others and help them to find joy again. What could you do that might help 

Abdullah be joyful again?” 

“How did he lose his joy? When I lose my ball, I find it under the bushes or in 

the garden. Do you think that is where Abdullah’s joy is?” Ahmed asked, puzzled. 

Bibi Jan laughed her rich, deep laugh. “ Ahmed, you might be right! Jameela a 

flower from the garden placed beside Abdullah’s books will help him to remember your 

love of him and the beauty of Allah’s creations. You and Abdullah can take a bouquet of 

flowers to Yunus’ grave together and say a prayer. And Ahmed, if you throw the ball to 

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Abdullah, he will catch it and throw it back. Maybe he will find that it feels good to play 

even for just a short time, and he will begin to play ball with you again.” 

“I am going to choose the most colourful and delicate flower for Abdullah right 

now and ask him if he wants to visit the grave with me!” Jameela ran excitedly back to 

the garden. 

Ahmed looked sad. He rolled his ball around on the ground. 

“You feel as if you have lost your friend,” suggested Bibi Jan. Ahmed nodded. 

“Abdullah lost his friend, too.” 

“He didn’t lose me. I’m still here!” exclaimed Ahmed. 

“He no longer has Uncle Yunus’ friendship. When Abdullah was little, Yunus and 

Abdullah used to ride on the old bicycle to school together. They used to laugh and play 

jokes on each other. They played ball and worked in the fields together. Now Abdullah is 

very sad that Uncle Yunus is dead. He feels very angry that the landmine killed his 

friend.” 

“I know how he can feel better about Uncle Yunus!” Ahmed shouted, jumping up 

excitedly. “You told me that if I miss Uncle Yunus, I can remember his voice and 

remember all the happy times together and I can dream good dreams about him. And 

Bibi, I do! Every night, I think of the time we lay under the tree by the garden, just me 

and Uncle Yunus and Abdullah and we told stories and jokes and laughed. I am going to 

tell Abdullah to remember that time too!!” 

“Yes Ahmed, you will help him find joy again,” Bibi Jan told her grandson as he 

skipped off toward the house. She turned to look at Jameela in the garden, singing, and 

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watched as she carefully selected a flower for Abdullah. Then Bibi Jan returned to her 

knitting and smiled. 

10

The Wisdom of Bibi Jan 

Story # 2 



Illustrated by: 







Centre for Peace Studies, 

McMaster University, 


11

This Project is funded by CIDA 



Afghanistan. 

















In “Jameela’s Gifts”, Jameela and her younger brother Ahmed try to 




close. 

“The Wisdom of Bibi Jan” further demonstrates the grandmother’s role in 

the as comforter and adviser. Abdullah’s concern over the change in personality 

12

of a school friend due to the trauma of the war triggers Jameela’s revelation that 

she is having nightmares, and Bibi Jan provides her with a special cure for her 

fears. 


Healing images and symbols: warmth, growth, nurturing, 

playfulness, laughter, symbolic release, happiness, safety, 

comfort, love 

Modeling of Peaceful and Virtuous Actions: industry, contribution, 

compassion, friendship, marital harmony, respect for elders, emotional support, 

empathy, religious devotion, thankfulness, helpfulness, listening, physical 

comfort, affection, empowerment, encouragement, recognition and praise of 

virtuous actions 

Problem Issues: longing for education, anger, feelings of being over-burdened 

and over-whelmed, conflict, Post Traumatic Stress Symptoms: worry, preoccupation, 

nightmares, fear, sleep disturbance 

Healing Strategies: empowerment, hugging and comforting, drawing and 

destroying fears, drawing hopeful images, recognizing and facing fear, supporting 

a friend 

13

The Wisdom of Bibi Jan 

The sun was warm upon Jameela’s back as she tended the vegetable garden. She 

carefully watered and trimmed and weeded. She was waiting for her older brother 

Abdullah to return from school. Jameela wanted to see if Abdullah had brought any new 

books home that she could try to read. She hoped that Abdullah would help her. Jameela 

noticed her little brother’s kitten playing in the shade, chasing whirlwinds of dust. The 

kitten’s jumping and pouncing made Jameela laugh out loud. 

“What are laughing at?” asked Abdullah as he came into the yard. 

“Ahmed’s kitten thinks he’s a tiger,” grinned Jameela. “Will you have time to 

help me with my reading today, Abdullah? You said would. Please?” 

“ Jameela, I told you before, ask Auntie Fatima to help you,” Abdullah said 

angrily. “I have to take the animals to graze.” Abdullah walked away with Jameela 

following behind. 

friends. 

“What did you do at school today?” Jameela was always curious about Abdullah’s 

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“Jameela, don’t bother me. I have enough problems without you trailing after me 

asking me questions.” Abdullah prepared to go to the fields. Jameela followed him like a 

shadow. Abdullah saw that his sister would persist until he talked to her about his day. 

“O.K. Jameela, you win. I am worried about my friend, Kadeem, who is acting 

very strangely these days. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. He’s either getting angry 

with someone or he’s not paying attention to anything that’s happening, like he’s thinking 

about other things.” said Abdullah.. 

“Maybe we should ask Bibi about this. She always knows how to help,” 

suggested Jameela. As they passed through the yard, they saw Bibi Jan and Kaka Ghulam 

sitting together on the old wooden bench, talking. Their grandparents looked upset. 

“What is wrong, Bibi?” asked Jameela 

“Has something bad happened, Kaka Ghulam?” Abdullah was worried. 

“There has been some fighting in the hills. Some of the families that live outside 

the village are very worried and scared,” stated Kaka Ghulam. 

“My friend, Kadeem, lives over on the big hill outside the village. He has been 

acting differently lately. I wonder if the fighting has anything to do with it?” asked 

Abdullah. 

“When we are scared, we do act differently. Sometimes we cry, sometimes we get 

angry and sometimes we pretend that we are not scared,” said Bibi Jan. “I wonder if your 

friend is scared about what is going to happen.” 

“I thought that he was angry with me and I have been leaving him alone,” 

pondered Abdullah. “What should I do, Bibi Jan?” 

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“It is hard for young men to be scared. We expect them to be brave all the time. I 

think that your friend would like you to be his friend, not leave him alone. Ask him to 

come to visit you and perhaps you can invite him home and share some dried fruit and 

talk quietly together. Spending time with a close friend is a good solution to being 

scared,” said Bibi Jan. 

“I think that you should both go to the Mosque together and pray. This too will 

help your friendship strengthen,” added Kaka Ghulam 

“Thank you for your kind words. I need to go to tend to the animals.” Abdullah 

felt happier because he now knew how to help his friend. 

“I, too, need to go. It is time for afternoon prayers.” Kaka Ghulam used his cane 

to help himself to his feet and walked slowly out of the gate. 

Jameela had sat quietly listening to her Grandmother’s words. 

“Bibi, do you ever get scared?” asked Jameela. 

asked gently. 

“We all are frightened at some time. Do you get frightened sometimes?” Bibi Jan 

“Sometimes, I don’t want to go to sleep. I lie down in my bed and try to stay 

awake as long as possible and the more tired I get the more scared I get.” Jameela’s voice 

was very quiet and her tears shone in the sunlight. 

“What is frightening you, Jameela, my love?” Bibi Jan touched Jameela’s face 

and looked into her eyes. 

“I’m scared because sometimes when I go to sleep, I have dreams about Ahmed 

and me out in the fields and there is a big explosion and I jump up and I’m scared but I 

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am happy that I am in my bed and not in the field,” Jameela said. Her eyes were wide and 

her lips trembled. “And I have to look to make sure that Ahmed is safe and asleep. Then I 

try not to sleep but I know I will and I get scared.” Jameela felt herself starting to cry and 

fell into her Grandmother’s arms. 

“Jameela, thank you for telling me about your bad dreams,” Bibi Jan said. 

“Talking to someone you love about your fears is the first thing to do when you want to 

feel better. I know many different ways to help your fears get smaller and smaller and 

finally get so small you will hardly notice them,” smiled Bibi Jan. Jameela’s face began 

to brighten. She knew by Bibi Jan’s voice that they were about to have some fun. 

“First, Jameela, take my cane. Now, draw in the dirt a picture of the scariest 

monster you ever could imagine. That’s it, big and mean and scary. Maybe you should 

give it some horns and ugly teeth. I am sure that monster has very bad breath. Now, 

Jameela, with your feet, stomp on it, and rub out the monster. That’s it. The monster is all 

gone. You made the monster and you made it go away. Now do that with your scary 

dream,” directed Bibi Jan. Jameela’s smile faded from her face. “You can make it and 

you can make it go away. Try it!” 

Jameela drew a big explosion in the dirt. She drew wiggly lines all around it. 

“Those are my scared feelings,” she said. 

“Good, Jameela, they look like scared feelings. Now, just like the monster, rub it 

all out with your feet. Keep going until it’s all gone. Good! You did it,” said Bibi Jan 

proudly. 

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“My bad dream is gone. I want to do it again!” and Jameela drew an even bigger 

explosion and even bigger scary feelings and then scuffed them away with her feet. 

“Now draw you and Ahmed safe in your beds, just a small picture because we 

will leave this one for everyone to see. If you find that the rain has washed it away, you 

can draw it again, or place little stones on your picture so that it will stay longer. Later 

you can draw it on some paper to show your Mama,” said Bibi Jan. “And Jameela, if you 

are scared at night, just squeeze my hand, and I will tell you I love you, you are safe with 

Bibi.” 

Jameela quickly collected small stones and pebbles and place them in the lines of 

her drawing of Jameela and Ahmed. Many little pebbles made up their big smiles. She 

placed a circle of stones all around her picture so everyone would notice and smile too. 

18

Making Cookies 

Story #3 

Written by: Dr. Joanna Santa Barbara 

Mary-Jo Land 












19


Afghanistan. 







Yunus: The children’s uncle who killed by a land mine at age 20, youngest son of 

Bibi Jan and Kaka Ghullam. 






experiencing a great deal of difficulty during the domestic struggles of their homeland 

when tragedy struck. After coming in contact with a land mine while working in the field, 

her Uncle Yunus was killed and her father lost a leg. 

In “Jameela’s Garden”, Jameela and her younger brother Ahmed try to 

understand the anger and estrangement demonstrated by their older brother Abdullah. 

With the guidance of their grandmother, Bibi Jan, they learn how they might help him get 

over the loss of his Uncle Yunus, with whom he was very close. 

“The Wisdom of Bibi Jan” further demonstrates the grandmother’s role as 

comforter and adviser. Abdullah’s concern over the change in personality of a school 

friend due to the trauma of the war triggers Jameela’s revelation that she is having 

nightmares, and Bibi Jan provides her with a special cure for her fears. 

Much more of what is troubling Jameela is presented in “Making Cookies”. Her 

fear of landmines is so strong that she is even frightened walking along a path that has 

been cleared, much to Abdullah’s annoyance. Bibi Jan uses the opportunity of making 

cookies to help Jameela come to terms with her father’s injury, as well finding for Fatima 

a positive means of expression of grief for Yunus. 


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Healing images and symbols: nurturing, staring down fears, courage, strength, 

self-nurturing, self-healing, happy memories, growth, singing, empowerment, laughter 

Modeling of peaceful and virtuous interactions: service to others, cooperation, 

empathy, emotional support, helpfulness, reflective listening, recognition and praise of 

virtuous actions, affection, humour, physical comforting, religious devotion 

Problem Issues: Post Traumatic Stress Symptoms: anger, flashbacks, intrusive 

memories, avoidance, fear, nightmares, sleep disturbance, anxiety, hyper-vigilance, overreactivity, 

“triggers” of memories. 

Healing Strategies: spending time listening to the troubled child, hugging and 

comforting, “exposure “ to hurtful memories and realities, use of drawing, distraction 

from hurtful memories, supporting each other in difficulties. 

Making Cookies 

Jameela and Abdullah were walking home from a neighbour's house. The path was narrow. 

Jameela kept to the very centre of it and placed her feet carefully one in front of the other in a straight line. 

"Why are you walking like that, Jameela?" said Abdullah. "It looks kind of dumb." 

"I'm scared of landmines off the edges of the path,” said Jameela. 

"Dope!" said Abdullah. "They cleared the landmines. Didn't you know? There's 

even a sign down there, saying so. Can't you read?" He gave Jameela a shove, sending 

her off the path. She screamed in fear, enough to make Abdullah realize this wasn't her 

usual reaction to his teasing and roughhousing. He stopped and stared at his sister. 

21

"I CAN read that sign. I KNOW they're supposed to have cleared the place. But 

every time I pass our field the terrible memories came back. I keep seeing it all, as if it 

was just happening. It makes me feel horrible. Doesn't it happen to you?" 

"Nope. I try not to think about it. You should try too." 

flash." 

"I'm not TRYING to think about it, Abdullah. The memories just come in a 

The children reached home and went into the house. 

"Jameela," called her grandmother. "Could you take this cup of tea to your father, 

dear? He's sitting outside." Jameela paused. "Bibi, could you get Ahmed to do it? I have 

to water my garden." This was most unlike Jameela, who was usually a willing little girl 

with tasks. But Bibi Jan noticed a pattern - every time a task involved her father, Jameela 

tried to get out of it. Bibi Jan took the tea out herself, thinking deeply. 

Jameela saw her and ran up. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, Bibi Jan." 

"Jameela, I think we'll make some cookies together. Let's get started," and her 

grandmother headed toward the kitchen. 

Jameela stood in amazement. Had she heard right? She was expecting a 

reprimand, even a punishment, and now her grandmother was saying they'd make cookies 

together. Making cookies was special enough, but she'd never before been allowed to 

help. 

In the kitchen, Bibi Jan got the flour, the ghee and the sugar. She let Jameela beat 

the mixture together with the big wooden spoon. 

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"My word! You are a good cookie maker. I think you should taste it to see if it's 

right," she winked at Jameela. The mixture was so delicious! Jameela would have liked to 

eat it just like that, before it went into the oven. Fatima, Bibi Jan’s young daughter-inlaw, 

came in and saw what they were doing. She got out the pans for cookies and began 

preparing them. They began to shape the cookies into rounds. 

"Jameela," said Bibi Jan, " You know, you were telling me a little while ago about 

your frightening nightmares about the landmine explosion?" Jameela nodded. 

"Sweetheart, I think there's something more bothering you." 

Jameela wondered how her grandmother could know. "Bibi," she said. "Can you 

have day-mares?" 

"Day-mares? Day-mares? What do you mean, darling?" said Bibi Jan. Fatima 

looked very attentive. 

"Well, Bibi Jan, sometimes in the day-time, I get these sudden memories of what I 

saw on the landmine day. Something reminds me and then, all at once, it's as if I'm there 

all over again. It's horrible." Fatima stopped shaping the cookies and stood like a statue. 

"Darling, I know exactly what you mean. I didn't know this was happening to you. 

I'm glad you told me. But one more thing: How does this connect with your father?" 

Jameela wondered if her grandmother could see into her mind. "Bibi," a little sob 

escaped. "I do love Daddy. But when I see his leg, what's left of it I mean, the memories 

come back and I hate that. So I try to stay away and not look at it. That's why I didn't 

want to take the tea to him." Now Jameela was really crying. Fatima had turned pale as 

images of her dying husband flashed in her mind. 

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"Oh dear," said Bibi Jan. "Our cookie recipe definitely doesn't include tears. 

Come and sit on my lap." Jameela snuggled into her grandmother's hug. Fatima knelt 

beside them, stroking Jameela's hair. Her hand was trembling. 

"These are things I learned from someone who was very old when I was very 

young," began Bibi Jan. "It didn't mean so much when I was young, but as my life flowed 

along, there were some very bad things that happened, and then I remembered what I'd 

been taught. I followed the instructions and it helped. This strengthened me for the worst 

thing that happened, the day of the landmine. So now it's time for me to teach you two." 

Fatima's hand became still as she listened intently. Jameela's crying stopped. "She told 

me that when bad memories spring into your mind, don't run away from them. They will 

only follow you. You try to hide from them and they leap out at you." 

"But what can you do, Bibi Jan?" Fatima spoke for the first time. "The memories 

are so terrible. They're unbearable." 

"You stare them down", said Bibi Jan. 

"Stare them down?" said Fatima, amazed. "But how can you do that? " 

"You breathe in all the courage you have, and all the strength you have, and ask 

for the help of Allah, the Compassionate, the Merciful, and then you breathe out and stare 

it down. At first, you can only do this for a short time, because it is so hard. Then you 

have to let yourself get away for a little time. You do something to remind yourself that 

you're not in the time of the memory, you're here, right now. Sometimes I make myself a 

cup of tea; sometimes I go and watch the children playing. Then something reminds you 

and the memory leaps back. You breathe in and out and stare it down again, this time for 

24

a bit longer. After a while, you feel as if you're getting stronger than the memory, and 

that slowly it is taking the proper place of all memories, at the back of your mind, to 

come out only when called." 

Jameela had sat up and was staring at her grandmother. Fatima was openmouthed. 

"Bibi, do you have this too?" she said. 

"Yes, darlings. I know exactly what you're talking about because it happens to me 

too. And Fatima, dear, you must be suffering too in the same way." 

"Oh, I am, I am, Bibi Jan. It's terrible. Sometimes I don't know how I can get 

through a day. I seem to be living in a hell of terrible memories. So many things set off a 

memory, and then it's as if I'm there, on that terrible day. And the nights are worse." 

"Fatima, Jameela, we can get through this. Do what I told you and I think you'll 

start to feel stronger than the memories. Sometimes it takes a short time, sometimes it 

takes a long time, but we can get through it. If you're having a bad time in the days ahead, 

come to me and we'll stare the memories down together. Then, when we've done enough 

staring down, we'll look at the picture of Yunus that we took last Eid, where he looks so 

handsome in his new clothes and turban." 

"You are so brave, Bibi Jan. I'd like to be as brave as you," said Jameela. 

"You will be, little one. You have a brave heart." Bibi Jan gave her an extra hug. 

“When you have been brave and stared down the memory a bit, you should go and do 

something nice, like playing in your garden or singing one of your favourite songs. 

Jameela," said Bibi Jan, suddenly, “go into the garden and bring back three small smooth 

stones.” 

25

Bibi Jan gave Jameela and Fatima each a stone and held one in her palm. “Now, 

when we need to remind ourselves that we are here, now, and not in that time of terrible 

memories, we can each feel our stone in our pocket, and think of each other.” 

"Bibi," said Jameela, "What if I don't feel brave enough to stare it down?" 

"Then you can go and draw the memory. That takes courage too." 

Fatima’s cheeks were pink again. “When I visited my parents last month, my brother, the 

one who's a doctor, was there. He asked me about bad memories. He called them 

flashbacks. He said they are often brought on by a small thing that reminds you. That's 

exactly how it is with me. He told me also that people who suffer from these memories 

are more nervous and jumpy, as if they are worried about something bad happening 

again, any time." Jameela remembered how anxious she felt on the path by the fields. 

"My brother said that lots of people who have had terrible experiences suffer from this 

problem and that it has a name - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder. I asked him what the 

doctors did for it. He tried to explain, but I must say it sounded a good deal like what 

you've told us, Bibi Jan." 

"Ah, well, darlings. There's nothing new under the sun. People have always had 

bad experiences, and they've had to deal with them. Sometimes they do it well and 

become stronger, and sometimes they do it badly and become weaker. It's nice to have a 

modern name, but it's the same old thing. You have to be brave and not run away, and 

you have to stare the memory down for as long as you can. Sometimes you have to make 

yourself be with what reminds you of the bad memory and get used to it." 

"How would you do that, Bibi Jan?" said Jameela. 

"Well, you try not to look at your father's leg because it brings back memories, 

right? Now, you have to be brave and make yourself look at your father's leg for longer 

and longer periods of time." 

Jameela found herself wanting to run away from this idea. Then she remembered 

that she wished to be a brave woman like her grandmother. 

26

"Tonight, when I massage your father's leg, how about you stay with me and hold 

the ointment? You don't have to look all the time. Just as much as you can handle and 

you can try to think of it in a new way- as the sign of a father who loves his family and 

had the courage to till the fields despite the risk of mines." 

"OK, Bibi Jan. I think I can do that." 

"Fatima, you are suffering so much. You can come to me when it gets hard." 

Fatima's tears glistened. "Thanks, Bibi Jan. I want to be a brave woman too." 

"You know," said Bibi Jan, "sometimes it seems like having a big lump of 

something that tastes terrible in your mouth. You can't swallow it and you can't spit it out. 

No matter how much you don't want to, you have to chew it up until it goes down. Oh 

my goodness! We're making something that's going to taste very good. The fire is just 

right for the cookies. Let's quickly finish them and get them baking. " 

The three of them shaped and decorated the cookies. Bibi Jan put the letter J on 

half of hers and the letter F on the other half. Fatima slipped them into just the right spot 

in the oven. They sat and waited, sipping tea. The smell of the cookies baking was 

wonderful. 

When they were just golden, Fatima took them out. Together they lay them out to 

cool. Just then little Ahmed darted into the kitchen. He had smelled the cookies. He 

snatched one off the table and ran off laughing. Jameela grabbed the wooden spoon and 

chased him, laughing too. 

27

Merza’s Heart 

Story #4 

Written by: Dr. Graeme MacQueen 


Mary-Jo Land 







Canadian Centre for Peace Studies, McMaster University, 


This project is funded by CIDA 

28



Afghanistan. 

























Much more of what is troubling Jameela is presented in “Making Cookies”. 

Her fear of landmines is so strong that she is even frightened walking along a path 

that has been cleared, much to Abdullah’s annoyance. Bibi Jan uses the 

opportunity of making cookies to help Jameela come to terms with her father’s 

injury, as well finding for Fatima a positive means of expression of grief for 

Yunus. 

29

Jameela is finding very difficult to fathom the mysteries that are locked up 

inside “Merza’s Heart”. She mourns the loss of the cheerful man she knew 

before his injury, the one who was full of stories. Her innocent questions brings 

him to tears, but they also remind him of the man he used to be, and create the 

yearning in him to be that way again. 


Healing images and symbols: laughter, giving, humour, dreams of happiness and 

peace 

Modeling of peaceful and virtuous interactions: compassion, patience, 

kindness, empathy, helpfulness, physical comfort, praise and recognition of 

virtuous actions 

Problem Issues: grief, depression, loss, isolation, remorse, sadness 

Healing Strategies: story telling, consulting, emotional support, empathy, 

emotional release, physical comfort 

Merza’s Heart 

It was the middle of the morning. Jameela watched her father Merza come out of 

the house. She was happy because she was no longer afraid to look at the stump of his 

leg. Merza was leaning on his crutch and moving very slowly. He sat on the old wooden 

bench in the yard and put his crutch on the ground. His shoulders were slumped and he 

was quiet, just looking at the ground. 

30

Merza had been a happy man before the accident. Before the landmine killed 

Yunus and took off Merza's leg, Merza used to laugh and bring little presents to Jameela. 

Sometimes he would tell stories like Bibi Jan. Jameela would run up to him and say, 

“Tell me a story, Daddy!” 

Merza would pretend that he couldn’t remember any more stories. “Stories?” he 

would say. “Oh, I think I’ve used them all up! There aren’t any left!” 

But then he would smile and say, “Well, I do remember one little story about 

something that happened a long time ago,” and off he would go. Sometimes they were 

sad stories, but usually they were happy and funny. 

Ever since the landmine Merza was an unhappy man, and sometimes he got angry 

for no reason. He hadn’t told Jameela and Ahmed any stories for a long time. 

Jameela looked at her father sitting on the old bench. He didn’t look angry today, 

but he looked very, very sad. Jameela wanted to make him happy, so she walked up to 

him and smiled. 

“Tell me a story, Daddy!” 

Merza looked at Jameela. For a long time he said nothing. At last he spoke. 

“The stories are all gone. There are no more stories.” Then he turned away from 

Jameela and looked down at the ground again. 

Jameela frowned. She didn’t understand. This time her father didn’t seem to be 

joking. He looked very serious. But how could his stories be all gone? Jameela went to 

Bibi Jan. 

“Bibi?” 

31

“Yes, dear,” her grandmother answered. 

“Daddy says his stories are all gone.” Bibi Jan listened while Jameela told her 

what Merza had said. Bibi Jan was quiet for a few moments. She was trying to figure out 

how to explain Merza’s sadness. 

“Jameela,” Bibi Jan said at last, “ a heart holds a story the way a nest holds a 

beautiful bird. That bird is happy to be in the nest. It rests, it sings, it has babies. But what 

if there is a terrible storm and the wind blows so hard that the nest gets torn apart? Now 

there are holes in the nest! Little pieces of nest fluttering in the wind! That bird is not able 

to stay there. Maybe it has to fly away. Now, your father’s heart is like that nest. It has 

many holes in it. The stories have flown away. Who knows where they are now? Perhaps 

they have flown to the mountains.” 

“Why did his heart get holes in it?”Jameela asked, puzzled. 

“Oh, Jameela! When Yunus stepped on the landmine, that was a bad day! Your 

father lost his brother! And he lost his own leg! Jameela! That landmine blew many holes 

in your father’s heart!” 

“Will his heart ever get better?” the saddened child asked. 

Bibi Jan put her arms around Jameela. “You must be patient. Hearts take a long 

time to heal. You must be kind to your father, and you must let him talk about the things 

that make him sad.” 

“But will the holes get fixed? Will the stories come back?” 

Bibi Jan thought for a moment. “Remember when I said a story is like a bird? 

Well, that bird might be happy in the mountains for a while, but then it would get lonely 

32

for its old nest. I’m sure there is a story right now that is lonely for its old nest in Merza’s 

heart. Now, off you go to help your mother. And remember to be patient with your 

father.” 

All the rest of the day, as Jameela helped her mother Haleema, she thought about 

her father’s heart. She kept thinking of his heart as a little nest, hanging down from the 

tree with bits of grass and twigs falling out. 

“How does a nest get mended?” she wondered to herself. 

In the afternoon, Jameela went outside the house, and there was Merza, still 

sitting on the old wooden bench, still looking down at the ground. Jameela went to him. 

“Daddy?” 

Merza looked at his daughter. 

“Daddy, can I tell you a story?” 

“A story?” her father responded. “What...what do you mean?” 

“Bibi says a story is like a bird and a heart is like a nest. She says when the bird’s 

nest gets holes the bird flies away to the mountains. She says your heart is like a little 

bird’s nest with holes.” 

Merza was looking at his daughter now, listening. 

“But I think a bird is the only thing that can fix a bird’s nest,” Jameela continued. 

“So maybe a story is the only thing that can fix a heart. I could tell you a story.” 

33

And then something very shocking happened. Merza began to cry! He put his 

head on his knees and cried and cried. Jameela didn’t know what to do! She had never 

seen her father cry! She ran into the house to get her mother, Haleema. 

Haleema saw Jameela coming at the very same moment that she heard her 

husband crying. She ran outside to comfort Merza. 

Jameela thought: “What have I done? I wanted to help my father and now look!” 

She just sat in the house by herself and said nothing. She tried to sit so quietly that no one 

would notice her. Her stomach began to hurt and she felt very sad. 

When Jameela went to bed that night her father came over to talk to her. Now it 

was her turn to cry! She felt so sorry for what she had done! 

Merza sat down beside her. He laid down his crutch. 

“Don't cry, Jameela,” he said. “Bibi Jan’s right. My heart is like a nest torn by a 

terrible wind. Sometimes I hear the wind moaning in the tree and I think my heart will 

blow away and be lost forever. When a man’s heart is like this he has no stories. He has 

no joy. He feels as if he can’t speak or eat or sleep or laugh. Sometimes he can’t even cry. 

Today I was able to cry. Maybe that’s a good thing.” 

Jameela sat up. “Do you want me to tell you a story?” she asked. 

Merza answered, “Yes. I think that would be very nice.” 

So Jameela told Merza one of her father’s old stories about the bad boy in the 

palace. Merza listened carefully. Once he had to wipe a tear from his eye. Once he 

smiled. 

34

“You did a good job with that story,” he said, once she had finished. “Maybe you 

will become a great storyteller and you will help our people to feel better.” 

“Does your heart feel better?” she asked. 

“Well, Jameela, this heart is still not in good shape. It will take a long time to 

heal. But I believe your story has made it a bit stronger. Yes, I believe so. Maybe soon it 

will be strong enough to hold one of those tiny stories that fly in from the mountains 

early in the morning.” 

And Merza patted Jameela’s head and tucked her into bed. 

That night Jameela had a very good dream. All of Afghanistan was covered with 

grass and flowers and trees. People were walking in the tall grass, talking to each other 

and laughing. As they walked, strange, beautiful birds flew toward them. “Oh!” said 

Jameela. “Stories! These must be the stories of the people of Afghanistan, flying back to 

them from the mountains!” 

35

Yunus’s Song 

Story #5 


Mary-Jo Land 











36



Afghanistan. 

























Much more of what is troubling Jameela is presented in “Making Cookies”.Her 

fear of landmines is so strong that she is even frightened walking along a path that has 

37

een cleared, much to Abdullah’s annoyance. Bibi Jan uses the opportunity of making 

cookies to help Jameela come to terms with her father’s injury, as well finding for Fatima 

a positive means of expression of grief for Yunus. 

Jameela is finding very difficult to fathom the mysteries that are locked up inside 

“Merza’s Heart”. She mourns the loss of the cheerful man she knew before his injury, 

the one who was full of stories. Her innocent questions brings him to tears, but they also 

remind him of the man he used to be, and create the yearning in him to be that way again. 

The saddness and grief of Fatima, young widow of Yunus, is felt by Jameela and 

Ahmed, who attempt to cheer her. Bibi Jan notices and suggests ways for the family to 

come together and celebrate good memories of Yunus, especially by singing Yunus’s 

Song. 


Healing images and symbols: playfulness, laughter, love 

Modeling of peaceful and virtuous interactions: industry, empathy, teaching 

Problem Issues: grief and loss 

Healing Strategies: humor, trying to make others happy, encouraging sharing of 

sadness and memories, finding a new role for the bereaved 

38

Yunus’s Song 

Ahmed and Jameela were playing with the red ball in the yard, shouting and 

laughing. In one corner sat Fatima on a stool, her head over her sewing. The ball 

rolled near her foot. 

"Hey, Fatima!" shouted Ahmed, "Throw it back to us." Fatima didn't look 

up at the children. She just kicked the ball in their general direction. Jameela 

beckoned Ahmed behind the shed. 

"I think she's crying," Jameela whispered. 

"She cries a lot," said Ahmed. "She doesn't play with us any more, the way 

she used to." Ahmed ran off toward the kitchen. 

Jameela wondered what to do. She loved her quiet and gentle aunt. 

Fatima used to read her stories and show her how to do grown-up things, but since 

the landmine accident, Fatima was lost in sadness. She knew, too, that Fatima was 

struggling with the memories of that terrible day, and sometimes she talked with 

Fatima about trying to be brave enough to stare the memories down, instead of 

running away from them. It was very hard. 

Ahmed popped out of the kitchen door with a big copper pot on his head. 

He had a wooden spoon in his hand and banged the pot loudly, marching up and 

down in front of Fatima. 

smile. 

"Ahmed, Ahmed, what are you trying to do?" said Fatima with a little 

"I'm trying to make you laugh, Fatima. You're so sad," said Ahmed, 

pulling the pot over his face. 

"Well, you did, you scalawag." 

"Fatima, why are you crying so much?" Ahmed asked. 

39

Jameela. 

"Oh, Ahmed, be quiet. You know why. It's because of Uncle Yunus," said 

much." 

Fatima said, "It's ok. He can ask me. It is because of Yunus. I miss him so 

"Me too. Remember when he used to play ball with me, and pretend to 

miss it when I threw?" said Ahmed. 

"And when he'd chase me around the well?" said Jameela. 

Fatima broke down in tears again. 

"Oh no. We've made her cry again. Oh, we're sorry, Fatima. We won't 

mention Uncle Yunus again." 

Bibi Jan drew near. "It's alright to cry. It's good to share memories. It's 

good to talk about the things we loved about Yunus. There were so many things to 

love about him. Fatima, remember the day you were married and he was teasing 

you so much during the wedding? He said he thought he was the cleverest person 

in the family until you came into it, and now he was sure you were the cleverest. I 

thought you would burst with blushing." 

"He was proud that I had an education........but I don't know what use it is 

now, or what use I am at all....." 

"Fatima, you could teach me reading and writing. Uncle Yunus wanted me 

to be educated too. He said so. Could you, Fatima?" begged Jameela. 

"Oh yes, Jameela. I'd really like to. Could I, Bibi?" asked Fatima. 

40

"I think Yunus would really have liked that. Why don't you two find some 

time each day when the chores are done? But Fatima, I want to say more to you 

about what we're all going through." 

"Bibi," said Fatima, "I don't want to burden you at all. It's terrible for you. 

He was your youngest son, and so wonderful," Fatima said, wiping away her 

tears. 

"Fatima, dear, it is terrible, for both of us - mother and wife. So we can 

help each other. I don't feel like grieving alone. I want to share the good memories 

of my son, with you. You loved him so much and made him so happy. 

Sometimes, let's have a cup of tea after supper, and some of my special dried 

fruit. We can look at the photos of Yunus and remember our happy days with 

him. Let's do that tonight, Fatima." 

Fatima nodded, too full of feelings to speak. 

"Will you do me a special favour tonight then?" said Bibi Jan. "Will you 

wear the lovely necklace he gave to you? I'd so like to see it on your neck again, 

and to remember his delight." 

Fatima nodded again. 

sing to me?" 

Ahmed said, "Fatima, do you remember that funny song Yunus used to 

Fatima began to sing the song. Bibi Jan and the children joined in, Ahmed 

banging the rhythm on the pot, all of them smiling at each other in their memories 

and with tears running down their cheeks. 

41

Leaving Home 

Story # 6 













42



Afghanistan. 













Jameela lives with her family in a village in Afghanistan. They were 

already experiencing a great deal of difficulty during the domestic struggles of 

their homeland when tragedy struck. After coming in contact with a land mine 

while working in the field, her Uncle Yunus was killed and her father lost a leg. 





close. 

“The Wisdom of Bibi Jan” further demonstrates the grandmother’s role 

as comforter and adviser. Abdullah’s concern over the change in personality of a 

school friend due to the trauma of the war triggers Jameela’s revelation that she is 

having nightmares, and Bibi Jan provides her with a special cure for her fears. 

Much more of what is troubling Jameela is presented in “Making 

Cookies”. Her fear of landmines is so strong that she is even frightened walking 

along a path that has been cleared, much to Abdullah’s annoyance. Bibi Jan uses 

the opportunity of making cookies to help Jameela come to terms with her 

father’s injury, as well finding for Fatima a positive means of expression of grief 

for Yunus. 

43






The saddness and grief of Fatima, young widow of Yunus, is felt by 

Jameela and Ahmed, who attempt to cheer her. Bibi Jan notices and suggests 

ways for the family to come together and celebrate good memories of Yunus, 

especially by singing Yunus’s Song. 

When their village is shelled through the night, the family faces the grim 

truth that they must abandon what is most dear to them in “Leaving Home”. Each 

of them deals with this traumatic thought in his or her own way, but ultimately 

they know it is for the best and put on a brave front as they face the future. 


Healing images and symbols: hope, safety, humour, love 

Modeling of peaceful and virtuous interactions: physical comfort, leadership, 

prayer, cooperation, emotional support, compassion, caring, protectiveness, 

Problem Issues: war trauma, fear of injury, fear of death, destruction, sadness, 

fear of change, loss of home and property, fear of loss of home and heritage, fear 

of loss of identity, fear of the future, shame 

Healing Strategies: leadership, family cohesion, empathic listening, physical 

comfort and support, reassurance, safe-guarding the past 

44

Leaving Home 

All was quiet. The red glow of the dawn crept across the eastern sky. Swirling 

mists, red and acrid, pushed aside the darkness of the long night. The stillness, the quiet, 

hung heavily, as if the countryside was holding its breath. On this morning, there were no 

birds singing, no early morning sounds of a village preparing for a new day. The 

bombing and gunfire had continued most of the night. 

Jameela’s arms were wrapped around her little brother, Ahmed. Both children 

were lying huddled together with their mother and grandmother. Their terror and their 

crying had left them exhausted. Merza, their father, looked out of the window. 

“Abdullah, I want you to go out and check our buildings. Go out into the yard and 

look over the fence. Check our neighbours but stay low and keep quiet. Go. Quickly.” 

Merza grabbed his son’s shoulders and looked deeply at him. “Be careful.” 

Abdullah slipped out of the door. Everyone listened to the silence. Kaka 

Ghullam’s beads clattered noisily in the stillness. His prayers were comforting while they 

awaited Abdullah’s return. 

When he did, Abdullah’s face said more than his words could tell. He looked at 

his younger sister and brother and said what little he could that would not frighten them 

further. “Our home was not hit. We lost the wall on the south side but the animals are still 

safe.” 

“And the rest of the village?” asked Haleema, her eyes wide with fear. 

“I’m sorry, Mother, there’s so much smoke, I can’t see much,” he said, sadly. 

45

e so lucky.” 

“We must leave,” stated Merza. “ We must go today, now. Tonight we might not 

Jameela jumped to her feet. “No! I don’t want to go! I won’t go! Please let us stay 

here, Daddy, please! We will be safe here. They will fight somewhere else tonight. Please 

Daddy!” 

“Jameela, stop! Listen to your father.” Haleema hugged her daughter. “He is right. 

We could go to Uncle Ali and Auntie Aisha in the city. We will be safe there.” Jameela 

cried in her mother’s arms. 

“That is true, Haleema,” added Kaka Ghullam. “ Merza, the family must leave 

today. There is no time to waste.” Kaka Ghullam nodded sadly. “For nearly sixty years I 

have lived here. I have prayed and prayed that through all the wars, we would be safe 

here. We are blessed to be alive this morning. There must be a reason that we were 

spared. We must follow the path and opportunity offered to us. Fatima,” he said, turning 

to his young daughter-in-law, “please, prepare food for the journey.” 

Fatima sat silently, not moving. 

“Fatima!” shouted Haleema, “ Get the food ready!” 

“I can’t go. I can’t leave,” wailed Fatima. “This home has all my memories of 

Yunus. It is where he lived and where he died. If I leave, I am afraid that I will forget 

him.” Fatima collapsed on the floor, sobbing. 

“Everyone, stop your crying!” screamed Abdullah. “Most of the houses in the 

village are destroyed. Do you want to stay and die or leave here and live? I am leaving!” 

Abdullah gathered his blanket and clothes. 

46

“ Fatima, you will go. Get the food ready,” said Haleema as she quickly gathered 

necessities for the journey. 

“Abdullah, get the donkey” ordered Merza. 

Haleema helped Jameela and Ahmed by grabbing what she could. Merza and 

Kaka Ghullam discussed the safest route to take. Bibi Jan gathered the photographs from 

the walls and placed them in a row on the floor. She sat down and quietly wept. Everyone 

was too busy to notice her weeping. Abdullah and Haleema loaded the donkey, placing 

Ahmed on top. Today he has too tired and frightened to enjoy the ride. He curled up and 

fell asleep just as the sun rose above the eastern hills. 

In minutes everyone was gathered at the door. Fatima stood rigidly unable to 

cross the threshold. Jameela knew she must help her aunt leave with the family. 

“Auntie Fatima,” pleaded Jameela, holding her hands, “ you must come with us. 

Who will teach me reading and writing? You said I was doing so well. Who will sing 

songs with me and help me with my garden? Oh! My garden! How can I leave my 

garden?” Jameela’s crying started anew. 

Fatima hugged the little girl. “It seems that we all must leave behind things that 

we care for and love. At least, I can take my memories with me. I promise to find you 

some new seeds in the city so that when we return we can grow a wonderful new 

garden,” Jameela and Fatima hugged each other through their tears. 

“We have no time for this!” shouted Merza. “We need to travel far from here 

before nightfall. We may not be able to take the main roads. We may have to travel crosscountry. 

I will not be able to keep up very well on these crutches- so let’s get moving!” 

47

Merza looked at his only leg and then to his son sleeping on the donkey. “I may need to 

ride sometimes so we can move faster,” he said shamefully, shaking his head. 

“Ahmed will run along beside once he has slept,” said Haleema, reassuring her 

husband. “Now, let’s go! Quickly! Wait! Where is Bibi Jan?” 

The family ran back inside to find Bibi Jan still weeping on the floor surrounded 

by photographs. They were shocked to see their strong and wise Bibi crying on the floor. 

“ Bibi Jan,” said Kaka Ghullam gently, “we must go now.” 

“I can’t leave my home,” sobbed Bibi Jan. “I have lived here for fifty years. I’ve 

given birth to all my children here in this house.” She picked up a picture of Yunus. “And 

I have buried my son here. I can’t go and leave my home unprotected from strangers and 

looters.” She hugged the photo. 

“We will hide all the photos and anything else that we want saved in the animals’ 

stall, under the hay. No one will look there. Here, Bibi Jan, put them in this suitcase. 

They will be safe,” said Haleema. “Fatima, do you want to put your wedding photos in 

here, too?” Fatima and Bibi Jan quietly placed all they could fit into the case. Abdullah 

took the suitcase to hide under the house. 

“We will come back soon, as soon as the fighting is over,” Kaka Ghullam 

consoled. “But you must come with the family. You can’t stay here alone. Everyone else 

is leaving the village.” 

“Bibi, please, please don’t stay here, we need you, I need you,” begged Jameela. 

“Mother, you will come, and come now. We can’t argue. We are wasting time.” 

Merza took his mother’s arm and urged he toward the door. 

48

“No! I won’t go! I won’t leave my home!” Bibi Jan stood strongly in the door, 

holding the frame. Her face showed her fear. “ I am afraid of what will happen. You will 

travel faster without me. My legs are weak.” 

Haleema took Bibi Jan’s other arm. “We need your strong heart and we will help 

your weak legs. You can ride on the donkey when Merza walks.” Haleema looked 

around. “Where is the donkey?” asked Haleema. “It has Ahmed!” 

The family turned to see the donkey, trotting off down the road, with Ahmed still 

sound asleep on top. Abdullah, Fatima and Haleema ran to catch up with them. 

“You see, Bibi, the donkey, who never takes a step when you want him to, has the 

good sense to get away from here,” smiled Kaka Ghullam. 

Jameela pulled gently at her grandmother’s hand. “Remember you said that I 

could hold your hand whenever I have a nightmare, and you will tell me that you love me 

and that everything will be all right? How can you keep this promise to me if you stay 

here? Bibi Jan, I love you. Everything is going to be all right.” 

As she spoke, Bibi Jan slowly stepped out of the house and walked with her 

husband and son toward the gate. 

Jameela gently tugged her hand. “Everything’s going to be all right.” 

A New Friend 

49

Story # 7 


Mary-Jo Land 













Afghanistan. 


50




















close. 










for Yunus. 








51







In “A New Friend”, the family is staying with an old friend of Merza’s 

while they are on their journey to the safety of his brother’s place in the city. 

While there, Abdullah learns a valuable lesson about the nature of making 

judgments about people who are different in either the language that they speak or 

their beliefs. 


Healing images and symbols: laughter, sharing food and shelter with others 

Modeling of peaceful and virtuous interactions: hospitality, generosity and 

kindness to those in need, courage to try a new language, friendship, acceptance, 

humour 

Problem Issues: sorrow, loss of home and property, respect for diversity 

Healing Strategies: understanding and respecting diversity, giving and receiving 

A New Friend 

Jameela and her family were fleeing the bombing of their village, heading for the 

safety of the city. They had been walking all day, resting occasionally for young Ahmed, 

52

for her grandparents, Bibi Jan and Kaka Ghullam, and for her father, Merza, whose 

journey on crutches was especially painful. 

Everyone was dusty, thirsty and very tired. Their sorrow at leaving their home lay 

underneath their weariness. 

Merza said, "We're coming to a village very soon. I can see the top of the mosque 

between the hills. In that village, there's a man I know. I've traded young donkeys and 

tools with him over the years. Amin is his name. I'll ask him if he can help us." 

A little more tired trudging brought them to the gate of Amin's house. Amin 

opened the door. 

"Old friend! What brings you here?" His smiling glance took in the exhausted 

family, which gave him the answer to his question. Amin saw more - that his friend had 

lost his leg and was on crutches. The smile left his face. 

“A landmine," said Merza. "I lost my brother." 

"I hear the war is on the doorstep of your village," said Amin. 

"More than on the doorstep," said Merza grimly." A lot of the village is 

destroyed. We had to leave. Everyone has left. That's why we're here." 

"Come in, come in, friends. You are welcome here. Our house is your house." 

Amin ushered them all through the door, taking all the bundles he could carry. Then he 

spoke to his wife and children, who shyly came out of the house into the courtyard. 

Abdullah, Jameela and Ahmed were puzzled that they couldn't understand what he said. 

He seemed to be speaking another language. And everyone in the family was wearing 

clothing that looked strange to the children's eyes. They had never seen people dressed 

53

like this before. Saida, Amin's wife, began cooking some food, and even the cooking 

smelled a little different. 

The tired and puzzled children sat on the ground in the courtyard. One of Amin's 

children brought Bibi Jan a little stool and she sat beside them. 

"Children, Amin's family and this whole village speak a different language from 

ours. Afghanistan has people with several languages. Ours isn't the only one. Amin and 

Saida are very good , kind people. We look different to them too, you know." The 

children smiled at that thought. To themselves they looked and sounded completely 

ordinary, the way they thought everyone was, until today. But if they thought of how they 

looked in the eyes of Amin's family, they appeared strange and unusual. It was a weird 

thought. Perhaps that was why Amin's children were staring at them, wide-eyed, from the 

shadows. 

Bibi Jan spoke again. "Even though we seem different from them, they know so 

well that we feel tired and hungry and thirsty and sad, the way any person does who has 

to go on such a sad journey. They've brought us water and they're cooking us food. This 

is what it is to be a good citizen - always hospitable to others, no matter if they have 

different clothes or language or religion." 

"Are there different religions, Bibi?" asked Jameela. 

Yes, dear, and the Prophet told us that we must be hospitable and good to 

people of other religions too. Every human being can feel tired, hungry and sad. 

Everyone has the same feelings in their heart." 

"Bibi," said Jameela, "I think Saida has the food ready." 

54

Everyone in the two families sat around the food, but only the visitors ate. As 

the meal was served, one of Amin's older daughters, with a big smile, pointed to the 

different foods and said the name in her language. Abdullah and Jameela were too 

embarrassed to try to say the strange words, but Ahmed tried every single one. Of course, 

he made many mistakes, which made Amin's family laugh a lot. That made Merza's 

family laugh too. No one laughed harder than Ahmed, who had tears of laughter running 

down his cheeks. 

But within minutes, Ahmed was asleep, curled up in the seated circle, without 

even finishing his food. The other children were ready to sleep as soon as they were 

shown a spot on the floor. 

to leave. 

In the morning, Merza's family bundled their things together again and got ready 

"Here is some food for your journey," said Saida, handing them some parcels of 

bread and cheese. 

Merza bowed in gratitude. He knew Amin and Saida had little to live on 

themselves. Then they brought out two pairs of shoes for Jameela and Ahmed, and some 

sheep's wool to make Merza's crutches more comfortable. 

"I can't find words to thank you for your kindness," Merza said. 

them. 

"May Allah bless your journey." Amin and Saida stood at the door to farewell 

That afternoon, after many hours of travel, Bibi Jan observed Abdullah and 

Jameela having a disagreement while waiting for the bus to the displaced person’s camp. 

55

She intended to ask one of them what it was about when the got to the camp, but over the 

course of the three-hour bus trip it slipped her mind. When the family reached the camp, 

they lined up to register and were assigned a space in the very crowded, former school. 

The place was noisy and confusing and they were all exhausted; they could barely unpack 

their quilts before they fell asleep. 

Kaka Ghullam found that the camp had a classroom for boys. Merza told 

Abdullah that he should go. Most of the boys in the class were from villages in 

Abdullah's area and spoke the same language as Abdullah. But a few were different. The 

other boys were teasing them and even pushing them when they tried to take their place 

on the classroom benches. Abdullah watched this, but did nothing. That night, as the 

family ate together, he told them about his day in the classroom. 

"Some of the kids have really weird clothes. Their hats are like mushrooms. 

Boy, do they ever look like dopes." 

Merza spoke sharply to his son. "Abdullah, people in this family, even when 

things are very difficult, do not look down on others. It isn't important that they are 

wearing different clothes. They have the same human heart under the clothes. I never 

want to hear that you are making life harder for someone who is different." 

Bibi Jan said, "Let's remember the kindness of Amin and Saida. In their eyes, 

we were the ones who looked different. Yet they treated us like brothers and sisters." As 

Abdullah remembered the kind family in the village that had passed through, he realized 

that the few different boys at school probably came from the same language group as 

they did. 

56

Kaka Ghullam's deep voice boomed out, "The Prophet said...(insert quotation 

from.scripture).........." 

The next day at school, Abdullah smiled at the different boys and sat next to one 

of them in class. When they went to get a drink of water, Abdullah remembered a word 

that Saida was trying to teach Ahmed. He said what he hoped was the word for water in 

the other language, praying that he wasn't making all Ahmed's funny mistakes. The other 

boy's face lit up and he spoke back to him in that language. Abdullah laughed and shook 

his head. "That's all I have, just that one word. I'm lost after that," he said. 

"That's OK," said the other boy. " I can speak your language fine. I just didn't 

want to because the others were making fun of my accent." 

The two boys became friends. Abdullah began to learn the other language from 

his new friend. His parents were pleased about this. "It's very good to know several 

languages," they said. "It will always help you in your life. It just goes to show us that 

even out of very bad circumstances, some good things can grow." 

57

Reconciliation 

Story # 8 


Mary-Jo Land 











58



Afghanistan. 





















close. 










for Yunus. 

59



















As the family continues its journey to the city, Abdullah discovers that 

Jameela has brought her kitten from home and has kept it hidden the entire 

journey. In anger, he takes the kitten from her and threw it in the undergrowth of 

some bushes of to the side of the road. Jameela is angry with her brother and 

refuses to acknowledge his existence. It is up to Bibi Jan to find a way for there to 

be “Reconciliation”. 


Healing images and symbols: restoring harmony 

Modeling of peaceful and virtuous interactions: cooperation, listening, being 

non-judgmental, giving, empathy 

Problem Issues: anger, taking anger out on another person, hostility in a 

relationship, holding a grudge, stubbornness, shame 

Healing Strategies: helping a person empathize with the person that he or she has 

wronged, mediating reconciliation, apologizing, asking for and granting 

forgiveness, compensating for wrong-doing 

60

Reconciliation 

Huddled on the floor in a corner of the classroom that was now a temporary home 

for eleven families, Abdullah could not sleep. The events of the day swirled around him 

like angry ghosts. In the darkness, he could not tell if anyone else in his family was still 

awake, but if anyone deserved to be, it was Jameela. 

She had treated him like a leper since the day they arrived, and he knew why. But 

he was not to blame for what happened. In many ways, he was now a man in the family 

and he would have to make some difficult decisions that that required, even if it meant 

feeling the wrath of his little sister. 

It all started three days ago. 

The sky was gray, so the heat was bearable. The dusty road stretched through an 

area of low trees and bushes. Ahead trudged Jameela. She was carrying bundles heavy 

for a ten-year-old. Her shawl was wrapped around her shoulders. Her head was bent over 

and she seemed to be murmuring something into her shawl. "Maybe she's gone mad with 

the stress," thought Abdullah. He drew closer behind her, silently. 

"How's it going, little kitty?" he heard her saying. "You OK in there? Don't 

worry; we'll soon be there. Everything will be all right." 

61

"What on earth have you got in there?" Abdullah's loud voice made Jameela 

jump. 

"Nothing," she said. 

"Oh sure," he said. "You talk to your shawl just to pass the time. Did you bring 

that stupid kitten?" 

"It isn't stupid, and yes, I did bring it. You know how Ahmed loves it. And I love 

it. And it'd probably die if we left it behind. Leave me alone." 

"It'll probably die if it comes with us, or someone will eat it. Get it through your 

head, girl. We're refugees, displaced persons. We're not going on a nice holiday." 

Abdullah snatched the kitten out of Jameela's shawl, ran off the road into the bushes, and 

threw it into the undergrowth. 

kitten. 

What was he to do? These were dangerous times and this was no place for a 

A few feet away, also unable to sleep, Jameela felt very much alone. She was still 

very angry with Abdullah, and she could not look at him without feeling her temper flare. 

She did not like this feeling. She would much rather get along with everyone. It would be 

nice to forgive him, but he was simply too mean to be forgiven. It was one thing to throw 

the kitten into the bushes, but what Abdullah did after just made matters worse. 

Jameela remembered that she had put down her bundle and run to find the kitten. 

Abdullah had blocked her. She had run at Abdullah and he had pushed her over into the 

dirt. Jameela sobbed. Daddy had shouted at them, telling them to hurry or they'd miss the 

bus. He had told Jameela to stop crying; there was no time for that nonsense now. 

62

Jameela remembered saying to Abdullah, "I hate you. I wish you were dead." and 

vowing to herself that she would never speak to Abdullah again. She would not regard 

him as her brother. 

Yesterday, Jameela helped the family to settle in. She did everything asked of her 

and answered when spoken to except when Abdullah spoke to her. She acted as if 

Abdullah didn't exist. When she and Abdullah were told to carry a heavy trunk together, 

she did, but refused to look at him. Jameela kept this up all day. Most of the adults were 

too busy to notice even though everyone lived very close together in their very small 

space. But Bibi Jan noticed. She took Jameela outside the building to a spot under a tree. 

"What's wrong, my little Jameela?" 

“Nothing, Bibi. What do you mean?" 

"Just that you're not talking to Abdullah. Something isn't right between you." 

"Oh, Bibi, he killed my kitten. Well, it's Ahmed's kitten. He doesn't know about 

this. I hate Abdullah. I don't want him for a brother." 

"Jameela, Jameela, these are strong words. Tell me just what happened." Bibi Jan 

listened carefully. "Hmmmm, that certainly was a serious wrong," she said when Jameela 

had finished. "I'll talk to Abdullah about this. I promise." 

The next day, Bibi Jan took Abdullah out to sit under the same tree. She asked 

Abdullah to tell her what happened about the kitten. 

“Jameela is so stupid, she thought she could keep a kitten in a place like this." 

Jan. 

“Was it your business to decide whether that kitten should live or die?" asked Bibi 

63

"Well, no. I guess not." 

“Do you have any idea how your sister is feeling?" 

"Pretty angry with me, I guess. " 

“Yes, and very sad too. She's a tenderhearted girl, Abdullah. I want you to 

understand that. She loved that little kitten and helped Ahmed to care for it. She's very, 

very upset." 

Abdullah was silent. 

"What got into you, Abdullah, to do such a thing?" 

“I don't know, Bibi. I was angry and sad about leaving home. I felt as if I was 

losing everything, all the things I cared about at home. And then I saw Jameela. She had 

something she cared about from home. I was jealous." Abdullah paused a long time. "I 

shouldn't have done it." 

"No, you shouldn't have. Any ideas about what you can do about this?" 

"I don't know. I do love her, I guess, as a sister. And now she hates me." 

"Well, it's up to you to do something about reconciling. First you should 

apologize. Can you do that?" 

"I guess," Abdullah gave a tight smile. "It isn't easy, to a sister." 

"No, but if you want a loving relationship, you have to. Then you have to ask her 

to forgive you. Can you do that?" 

"That too? Ok. Anything else?" 

64

“Then you should try to find a gift to compensate a little for the loss you caused. 

You probably can't make it up completely; because that was a particular little kitten she 

loved. But you can do your best." 

"Sounds fair enough," said Abdullah. "I'll try, Bibi." 

Later, Abdullah showed Bibi Jan a story-book he got from an aid organization in 

the camp. It was about right for Jameela's reading level, or perhaps a little above. It had 

been carefully chosen. "What should I do now, Bibi?" he asked. "Just give it to her." 

"No, she might throw it back at you. You two have some talking to do first. You 

go to our tree and I'll get Jameela." 

Jameela was reluctant to come with her grandmother. She said she was never 

going to talk to Abdullah again, and it was no use trying to make her. "You don't have to 

talk," Bibi Jan said, "Just listen." Bibi Jan sat them down either side of her. Jameela 

wouldn't look at Abdullah. 

"Abdullah, you have things you want to say to Jameela, so you can start." 

"I don't want to listen to that person, whatever he might say," said Jameela, 

looking in the opposite direction from Abdullah. 

"Jameela, listen," said Bibi Jan. 

"Well, Jameela, on that day, I was feeling really lousy and angry and sad..." 

Jameela said coolly to her grandmother, "Please tell that person that I don't care 

how he was feeling. He is nothing to me." Then she turned suddenly and faced Abdullah 

and yelled, "You killed my kitten!" 

65

"Well, I didn't really kill it. It might be still alive. And after all it couldn't have 

lived in this place." 

"Abdullah, are you listening to your sister or are you making excuses for 

yourself?" said Bibi Jan. 

"Jameela, what I did was wrong, and I'm truly sorry," said Abdullah. 

sorry?" 

"You are? You never, ever apologized to me for anything before. Are you really 

"I'm really, truly sorry. I wish I hadn't done it. I realize it hurt you very much, and 

I don't really want to hurt my sister." 

apologizing." 

"Thanks, Abdullah. I'd decided you had no feelings at all, but you do. Thanks for 

"Will you forgive me?" 

"Sure, and I should apologize to you for saying some pretty bad things to you." 

"That's OK. I understand why you did. I got something for you as part of saying I 

want to make up, and I want us to be brother and sister again. Here." Abdullah got 

out the storybook and gave it to Jameela. 

"Oh, Abdullah, it's great. I love it. You definitely do have feelings. I can't believe 

I'm saying this, but I'm glad you're my brother." She ran and gave Abdullah a hug. 

Bibi Jan spoke. "Here, you two. Help an old woman to her feet. I've had enough 

of sitting on the ground. Time for a cup of tea." 

66

Merza’s Anger 

Story # 9 


Mary-Jo Land 











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Afghanistan. 












. 










close. 







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for Yunus. 

























In “Merza’s Anger”, Merza’s loss of control over his temper has given 

cause for fear to both Jameela and Ahmed. The emotional upheaval wreaks havoc 

on both children, and causes them to be short with each other. While hiding, 

Ahmed overhears his father talking to Bibi Jan about his own insecurity regarding 

the loss of his leg. When the child is discovered, it becomes an opportunity for 

bridges to be mended between father and son. 


Healing images and symbols: hugging, giving, playfulness 

Modeling of peaceful and virtuous interactions: listening, supporting others, 

cooperation, helpfulness, 

69

Problem Issues: taking anger out on others, the effects of anger on children, fear, 

loss of self-respect and identity, shame 

Healing Strategies: talking about anger, exposing assumptions and clarifying 

misunderstandings, hugging and talking to children about difficulties, making 

gifts for others 

70

Merza’s Anger 

Jameela and Ahmed were becoming afraid of their father. He had always been a 

kind and gentle man but since losing his leg in the landmine accident, he had been 

different. Now he had to use crutches and it bothered him that he could no longer work as 

he used to do. Since the family left their village and were in a displaced persons' camp, 

Merza, had nothing to do. He went to the makeshift mosque to pray or he sat at home, 

and very often he criticized their mother, Haleema, or themselves as they went about their 

chores in their small family space in the camp. When he shouted at Ahmed, the little boy 

felt it was all his fault, and that he really was a bad child. 

Little things could send their father into a rage. He shouted at them. He banged 

his crutch on the floor or on the table. It was very frightening. 

Ahmed could hear him yelling at their mother and banging. It made him feel 

terrible - angry, sad, worried, frightened, all mixed up together. He wanted to do 

something but there was nothing he could do. Jameela came to him. 

wash." 

"Come on, Ahmed, out to the wash-house. Mama told me I had to give you a 

"No. Go away," said Ahmed. 

"Hey, little brother, Mama says. So we have to. Come on. It won't take long." 

Ahmed yelled and kicked a trunk. "Go away, go away, go away, stupid sister!" He 

moved away from Jameela. She reached out to grab him. He hit her and ran away, out of 

the building. While she was searching for him outside, he slipped back in and hid 

behind some boxes in their family’s corner of the room. 

71

Bibi Jan and their father came in. Ahmed held himself still and quiet as a little 

mouse. 

"Merza, I asked you to come in here because I wanted to talk to you privately." 

"What is it, Mother?" 

"I know you're suffering terribly. I wish I could take away the trials that have 

come upon you and the family. Sometimes I see you beginning to rise above your sadness 

and sometimes you're sinking under again. But I see you taking it out on Haleema and the 

children, and that is adding to their suffering. I notice the children are frightened of you. 

They try to keep out of your way." 

"Oh Mother, I thought it was because they don't respect me any more - a onelegged 

father." 

"Merza, respect isn't about how many legs you have. I think they're missing the 

gentle father they used to have... who, after all, is still there beneath the anger." 

"Mother, you can't imagine how angry I feel sometimes. Why me? Why my 

children? How am I going to take care of them now?" 

"Can I not imagine it?" said Bibi Jan, with a piercing look at her son. "As for your 

questions, there is no answer. Who knows how or why Allah disposes His trials? It is for 

us to submit, accept and move on with life. We'll find a way to take care of the children. 

First, you must take care of your anger and sadness. To help the children, we must heal 

the father." 

son?" 

Merza gave a glimmer of a smile. "How did such a wise mother get such a foolish 

72

"Merza, Merza," Bibi Jan embraced him. "You are a wonderful son, and I think 

soon you'll remember that the world still has joy in it." 

Ahmed was feeling cramped, behind the boxes. He wriggled a little, knocking 

over a cooking pot. His father and grandmother looked behind the boxes and saw him 

curled up. 

"Ahmed! What are you doing?" 

“Hiding from Jameela." 

"You heard what we said?" 

Ahmed nodded. 

His father beckoned him to come and sit on his knee. "Ahmed, you know Papa 

has been pretty bad-tempered recently?" 

Ahmed nodded. 

"Well, it's because I was so sad and angry and worried about all the bad things 

that have happened." 

"Me too, Papa." 

"You too?" 

Ahmed nodded. 

"Well, you know just how I was feeling then." 

Ahmed nodded. 

73

"And when I yelled at Mama and you children, it wasn't because you were bad, 

but just that I've been feeling so bad." 

"Me too, Papa." 

"I think we understand each other, Ahmed, you and I." Ahmed felt warm and 

relaxed, safe in his father's arms. "So! No more bad temper then, not from me and not 

from you, eh?" 

"I love you, Papa." 

Jameela ran in, looking worried. "Oh Ahmed, I've been looking for you 

everywhere." She stopped, startled to see Ahmed on her father's lap. Her father put out 

one arm to enclose her too. Jameela giggled at the close father-Ahmed-Jameela hug. 

"Papa, I'm supposed to be washing him. Mama told me. Please, Ahmed." 

Ahmed couldn't imagine why he had made such a fuss with his sister before. He 

really enjoyed her washing him. Usually they played and she got wet too. 

Merza wanted to do something for his children. He remembered a wooden 

dancing man on a string he had had as a child. He had his tools with him, and he found a 

small piece of wood. He cut it to make the man's head, body and arms. There was just 

enough for one leg only. "Ah well," thought Merza. "We will have a one-legged dancing 

man." 

74

Abdullah and the Ten-Foot Man 

Story # 11 

Written by: Dr. Graeme MacQueen 


Mary-Jo Land 










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Afghanistan. 





















close. 










for Yunus. 

76































Bibi Jan’s diplomatic skills are once again put to the test in “Making 

Peace”. While looking for Merza’s brother Aly and his wife Aisha in the city, the 

family is staying at a camp for displaced persons located in an old schoolhouse. 

While in the cramped quarters where they must make their temporary home, 

Abdullah gets into a fight with a boy his own age over the intrusion of his bicycle 

in the others’ living space. 

As “Abdullah and the Ten-foot Soldier” opens, Abdullah, now living with 

his family at his uncle’s house for a week, comes down with a fever. He recalls 

his childhood dreams about wanting to grow up to be a soldier before he falls 

asleep. He dreams about meeting a giant soldier in the market who teaches him a 

lesson about the reality of war. 

77


Healing images and symbols: comforting and caring 

Modeling of peaceful and virtuous interactions: caring for the sick, recognizing 

and praising virtuous behaviour 

Problem Issues: sickness, idealization of war 

Healing Strategies: condemnation of violence, teaching the value of peaceful 

living 

78

Abdullah and the Ten Foot Man 

“Stay in bed and rest,” said Merza, gently stroking his son’s forehead. 

Abdullah lay with his head on his pillow looking at his father. He felt as heavy as 

a stone. His family had been living in the city at his uncle’s house for only one week and 

here he was, so sick he couldn’t move. He should be finding a job! Instead, here he was. 

The women would have to take care of him. As if they didn’t have enough to do already! 

“We need you to get well, Abdullah,” Merza said. “Your search for Uncle Aly 

and Auntie Aisha was successful except that you also found this illness. We would never 

have been able to leave that camp if not for you. We are all very grateful but now you 

must rest and heal. 

Abdullah gave in. He felt his body burning with fever. He watched Merza leave 

the room, leaning on his crutches. Merza had told his family he would find work today, 

but Abdullah couldn’t imagine what work there would be for a man with one leg. 

Abdullah stared at the ceiling all morning. Sometimes he was asleep and 

sometimes he was awake. His mind was full of memories and pictures. He remembered 

coming to this city with his father years ago when he was just a little boy. He 

remembered seeing AK-47s for sale in the street. He remembered a man selling piles of 

landmines and grenades. Big men in uniforms had stood around the stall looking at the 

weapons, laughing and talking. 

When he had returned to his village Abdullah had told everyone he was going to 

be like those men when he grew up. He would be big and strong with lots of muscles. He 

79

would be so tough that when enemies came to his village to hurt people he would fight 

them. For a long time after that trip to the city, Abdullah had longed for a time when he 

would be able to give up farming and put on a uniform. He would protect the good people 

and kill the bad people. Abdullah remembered shooting so many men in his dreams. 

Abdullah’s head was hurting as he remembered these things. It felt as if there was 

fire in his head, and he was so thirsty! 

All of a sudden he felt better, and he found himself walking in the sunshine. 

job.” 

“Well,” he thought, “I’m glad that’s over! Now that my fever’s gone I can find a 

Abdullah decided to take a shortcut through the marketplace. But the marketplace 

seemed very big today. He was surprised how big it was. Now he found himself getting 

lost! 

“How do I get out of this market?” he wondered. 

Abdullah could hear people bargaining over prices. One man kept following him, 

trying to get him to buy food. Abdullah could smell the aromas of the frying food, he 

could see hides and wool for sale, and he could see all the animals. And what was this? 

Well, here was a big pile of landmines for sale! How clean and shiny they were! As 

Abdullah looked at the landmines he felt a shadow pass over him. He looked up and 

there, blocking out the sunlight, was the biggest man Abdullah had ever seen in his life. 

He was ten feet tall! He had on a uniform and he looked as if he had fought in many 

wars. He had a great, curling black beard. His huge arms were folded over his chest. He 

was looking right at Abdullah and he was frowning. 

80

Abdullah was frightened and he began to back away from the man. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” demanded the man in a deep voice. 

“Going?” said Abdullah. “Oh, I'm not going anywhere, sir. I'm just changing 

position. I'm moving a bit closer to these landmines. I need to look at them. My father 

told me to buy some good ones.” 

Abdullah picked up the landmines in his hands, feeling them, looking at them. He 

pretended he knew what he was doing. 

“Oh, I can’t fool him!” he thought at last. “I’m just a farm boy. I know how to tell 

the difference between good fruit and bad fruit but I don’t know the difference between a 

good landmine and a bad one!” 

The ten-foot man began to laugh. Then he stopped laughing and began to frown 

again. He moved closer to Abdullah and pointed a gigantic finger at him. 

“Have you ever tasted grapes from Shomaly, boy?” 

“Oh!” said Abdullah, thinking very hard. “Just once, sir.” 

“Were they good?” 

“Very good, sir.” 

“Juicy?” 

“Very juicy, sir.” 

“Sweet?” 

“Extremely sweet, sir.” 

81

forward. 

“Did they blow off your foot when you ate them?” the giant asked, leaning 

“Blow off my foot, sir?” 

foot?” 

“A landmine will blow off your foot. Did the grapes from Shomaly blow off your 

“No, sir. My foot was in good shape after I ate the grapes.” 

“Did the grapes from Shomaly kill your sister?” he questioned, intently. 

“Oh no, sir.” 

“A landmine will be happy to kill your sister. Did the grapes from Shomaly blow 

off your brother’s fingers?” 

“No, sir.” 

“Make you go blind?” 


“Turn you into a man with no legs who begs on the street for money?” 


“Murder your best friend? Blow the legs off your uncle's donkey?” 

“No, sir, no, no. The grapes of Shomaly did none of those things.” 

up. 

“Then you should be very happy with those grapes.” He concluded, straightening 

“Yes, sir.” 

82

“A man should be proud to grow such grapes, shouldn't he?” 


“A man should be proud to grow the things that give life. A man should be proud 

to build things, to make his people happy. Is it not so?” 


The ten-foot man looked at the pile of landmines in front of Abdullah. His mouth 

was pulled down at the corners as if he had tasted something terrible. He spoke again: 

“A man should get rid of the things that bring death. Is it not true?” 

“Oh yes, sir!” 

The ten-foot man suddenly stopped talking. His face seemed pale. He seemed to 

grow weak. He leaned on the side of a food stall for support. He seemed to grow smaller, 

and there was a look of pain on his face. 

Abdullah said, “Are you alright, sir?” 

The soldier was definitely growing smaller. Now he was almost the same size as 

Abdullah! He turned to look at Abdullah, and then at last he spoke. He voice sounded like 

dust. 

“No, boy. I am not alright.” 

“But who are you, sir?” 

“I am the ones who fought.” 

“What do you mean, sir?” 

83

“I am every boy and every man in Afghanistan who took a rifle and fought and 

died. I am Faisal who left his young wife to fight the enemy. I am Rahim who left 

university to fight for his country. I am Aslam who gave up growing grapes. I have done 

brave deeds that the people will remember. I have done evil deeds that I want to forget. I 

am tired. I am so tired now...” 

Abdullah began to worry about the man. He looked so pale, so sick, so tired. He 

was kneeling on the ground. He looked at Abdullah and the sweat glistened on his 

forehead. 

“The grapes...the grapes of Shomaly,” the man whispered. 

Abdullah looked around him. There was the colour and noise of the market, the 

people arguing, the smell of overripe fruit, the dust. He saw a small thin dog running 

under a stall with something in its mouth. 

“The man is asking for grapes. He must be dying of thirst. I must find him some 

grapes,” thought Abdullah. But when he looked down the man was nowhere to be seen. 

Abdullah began to run through the market. He began to yell for the man. 

“Hush now, Abdullah. Everything’s alright.” 

Whose voice was this? Abdullah looked up and saw his grandmother, Bibi Jan. 

She was holding a cool, wet cotton cloth on his forehead. Abdullah was lying in his bed. 

“Where did he go?” asked Abdullah. 

“Hush, now,” said Bibi Jan. “You’ve been having a dream. The fever is going 

now. Soon you will be well.” 

84

Abdullah lay still in his bed, listening. Later, when his younger sister Jameela 

came in to change the cloth on his head, he said to her: “I talked to a ten foot man!” 

Liar!” 

Jameela laughed. “Oh, Abdullah! There are no men that big! You are a Very Big 

Abdullah smiled. But still he couldn’t forget his dream. 

When his father came home Abdullah told him about the dream. Merza thought 

for a moment. Then he said, “Ah, yes. I believe I have met that man myself.” 

“But why did he speak about the grapes of Shomaly?” said Abdullah. 

“So juicy, so sweet!” answered Merza. “Why wouldn’t he speak about them?” 

very thirsty. 

“Now you've made me want to eat those grapes!” laughed Abdullah, who was 

“What a good idea!” said Merza. “If you’re feeling better tomorrow maybe we 

can go to the market and find some.” 

So the next day Merza and Abdullah went to the market, and they found some 

grapes from Shomaly. And they were delicious. So juicy! So sweet! 

85

A New Life 

Story # 12 













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In “A New Life”, Jameela expresses her joy at being able to meet Aly and 

Aisha as helping to offset being away from her home. However, when Haleema 

tells her that she will soon have a baby sister or brother, Jameela’s anxiety over 

the instability of their lives takes over. Her mother helps her to understand why 

this is a blessing for them all. 


Healing images and symbols: new life, joy, motherhood, laughter, restored selfesteem, 

hope for the future, love 

Modeling of peaceful and virtuous interactions: listening, teaching, supporting 

each other, affection 

Problem Issues: the burden on a child when acting as a parent, fear of change, 

homesickness 

Healing Strategies: reframing of trauma, physical comforting and nurturing, 

expression of fears, restoring kindness and gentleness in relationships. 

89

A New Life 

Jameela found the streets to be very noisy and dirty. Everyone seemed to be in 

such a hurry and not very friendly. She missed the quiet, gentleness and sweet smells of 

their farmland and the caring ways of the people of her village. Jameela and Auntie Aisha 

were doing the daily shopping for fresh vegetables and meat. Every time Jameela picked 

out tomatoes from the market, she felt proud of the tomatoes she used to grow in her 

vegetable garden. Her tomatoes were much more delicious looking. Jameela wondered 

when her family might be able to go back to the village, when she might get back to her 

vegetable garden. 

“Auntie Aisha, do you think that we will ever get to go home again?” Jameela had 

to speak loudly over the many sounds in the market. 

“We will have to wait to see if the fighting has stopped around your village,” 

replied Auntie Aisha. “It seems that you miss your home. If you go back to the farm, I 

will miss you very much. You are such a wonderful little girl. Someday, I hope to have a 

little girl like you.” 

“I am so glad that we came to the city for just one reason,” smiled Jameela. “I was 

able to meet you, Auntie Aisha. When we go home again, do you think that you could 

come to visit me and Ahmed and Abdullah?” 

“Jameela, please, do not get too hopeful about going back home. You do not 

know what you would find there. Many things might be destroyed by the fighting,” 

90

cautioned Auntie Aisha. “Also, Jameela, your father now has his job at the carpet 

weavers.” 

“I am so happy that Daddy likes to make carpets. He does not get so angry 

anymore,” smiled Jameela as they walked toward Auntie Aisha and Uncle Aly’s house. 

Just then, they saw Auntie Fatima leaving the house. 

“I wonder where Auntie Fatima is going? She is always going out and I don’t 

have anyone to teach me my reading lessons. Auntie Aisha, could you teach me? I see 

that you read magazines, could you teach me to read them, too?” pleaded Jameela as they 

entered the small compound of their home. Many of the family’s belongings were stacked 

in the yard. There was no room for these things in the house. 

“Jameela, I would like very much to teach you to read but now I have to cook the 

meals for Bibi Jan, Kaka Ghulam, Uncle Aly, your father and brother. Your mother is 

very tired after the journey from the farm and she did not rest well in the displaced 

persons’ camp. Auntie Fatima has gone out again so she can not help with the cooking,” 

sighed Auntie Aisha. She was getting tired, too. It was very difficult to try to feed all of 

her husband’s family with the same money that she used to feed just her family with. 

“Please find Ahmed and make sure that he is not bothering your mother.” 

“Why is my mother so tired? Why does she need to rest all the time? Is she sick?” 

worried Jameela. 

“No, no, Jameela,” laughed Auntie Aisha as she began preparing the meal. “Go 

and ask her yourself.” 

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With that Jameela turned and tiptoed quietly into the room where her mother lay 

sleeping. Ahmed was asleep beside her. Jameela touched her mother’s hair and thought 

how peaceful she looked. Haleema opened her eyes and smiled. 

“My beautiful Jameela. I hope that my next daughter will be as kind and gentle as 

you.” Haleema stroked Jameela’s hair and held her hand. 

“What do you mean ‘next daughter’?” asked Jameela. “You have only one 

daughter and that’s me!” 

Haleema. 

“Jameela, in a few months, you will have a new baby brother or sister,” whispered 

“A baby! Oh, no!” shrieked Jameela as she jumped up and ran from the room. 

“Jameela! Jameela! What’s wrong?” she said, trying not to awaken Ahmed. 

Haleema struggled to her feet and followed Jameela to the yard. She found Jameela 

sitting behind the piles of things that no longer fit in the house. Jameela was sobbing, her 

head bent upon her knees. 

“Jameela, I thought that you would be excited to hear about the new baby,” 

coaxed Haleema gently, as she rubbed Jameela’s shaking back. 

“How can we have a new baby? We have no home! We have no money! We have 

barely any food! Everyone is either angry all the time or sad all the time! I try to keep 

Ahmed safe but I can’t keep a baby safe, too!” cried Jameela. Tears of fear streamed 

down her face. 

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“My darling Jameela. I am so sorry. I did not know that you felt so frightened. I 

did not see that you have felt that you needed to keep Ahmed safe. I have been so sad and 

worried about my problems that I did not see that you have been worried too.” 

Jameela turned and cried in her mother’s arms. 

“And yes, I have been angry about many things. I have been frightened about the 

fighting. I am so tired of all the fighting,” Haleema looked at her sobbing child. 

“When I was a little girl like you, Jameela, I was so happy. I had so many friends 

and then I married your Father. He was so kind. 

Jameela’s crying quieted. She had never heard her mother speak of the days 

before the war. She could not imagine her mother a young girl, happy and playing with 

friends. 

“We were married when we were quite young but we worked hard on the farm 

and tried to make a good life. Everything changed when the war began.” Haleema’s voice 

faded away. She was remembering the years of fear and sadness. 

“I wish there was no war,” said Jameela sadly. She put her head in her mother’s 

lap. Haleema stroked her hair. 

“Yes, Jameela, so do I. But for every beginning there is an ending and for every 

ending there is a beginning. Our life on the farm has ended for now and our life in the 

city has begun. I believe that this new baby can help us see that there are always new 

beginnings.” Haleema smiled. She looked up to see her husband coming into the yard. 

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Merza saw his wife and daughter together and paused to admire their closeness. It 

seemed that it had been a long time since her had seen his wife so peaceful. He waved his 

crutch and stepped into the house. 

“You see, Jameela, there is another new beginning. Your father has found a job 

that makes him proud again. He is going to be a very fine carpet maker,” said Haleema. 

“Your brother, Abdullah, has decided to learn to be a landmine educator. And so, if we 

should ever be able to go back to the farm, Father and Abdullah will be able to go to 

work and we will hire labour for the farm work. Your Grandparents would be very happy 

to go home again.” 

Jameela sat up and looked into her mother’s face, wiping away the tears. 

“Leaving our farm was an ending but coming to the city was a beginning! And 

Daddy’s new job and Abdullah’s new job, those are beginnings too! If we did not come 

to the city, they would not have learned these new jobs. And I finally met Auntie Aisha! 

I would not have met her if we had stayed in the village. That’s a new beginning too! 

Jameela jumped to her feet! 

“And we are going to have a new baby!!!!” she whispered to her mother, 

grinning. Jameela twirled around, laughing. “That really is a new beginning!” 

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Going Home 

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“Going Home” begins with the news that after a year, the family is finally 

going to make the journey back home. As the family makes their preparations for 

their return, it is clear that there is still some tension between Hameela and 

Fatima. 


Healing images and symbols: hope for the future, returning home, happiness 

Modeling of peaceful and virtuous interactions: caring, cooperation, family 

unity, affection, industry, religious devotion, leadership and responsibility, 

creativity 

Problem Issues: fear of the unknown 

Healing Strategies: persevering to achieve one’s dreams, acknowledgement of 

other’s work and contributions 

98

Going Home 

Jameela and Ahmed sat together in the small yard of Uncle Aly’s house. They 

were trying to count the stars. 

“Why are there so many stars at home and almost no stars here?” Ahmed asked 

his sister. “Did they run away to the country?” 

‘No, Ahmed,” laughed Jameela, “the lights in the city are too bright for the 

smallest star to shine through.” 

“Oh, I see,” said Ahmed thoughtfully. 

“Jameela! Ahmed! Come inside, please,” called their mother, Haleema. The 

children jumped up and ran inside where they found their grandparents, parents, brother 

and uncle and aunts. Everyone was trying to look serious. 

“What’s wrong?” asked Jameela hesitantly. 

“Surprise! We’re going home! “ Everyone shouted in unison. 

“Jameela, Ahmed, we’re going home!” laughed Auntie Fatima. “Now you can 

grow your tomatoes again and play with your kittens down by the river!” 

Abdullah rubbed his brother’s head. “Auntie Aisha and Uncle Aly are taking a 

holiday. They are going to come with us and help get the farm working again.” 

“But Mother, are you able to travel so far just now?” asked Jameela. 

“Yes, Jameela, we will be fine,” smiled Haleema. “ We will pack tomorrow and 

leave the next day.” 

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“Yes,” said Merza, “we have sold some carpets and have enough money to go 

home.” 

Ahmed looked puzzled. “But will people in the country buy your carpets, Daddy? 

You make such beautiful carpets now.” 

“Ahmed, you are so thoughtful,” said Merza, giving his son a hug. “Everyone will 

buy my carpets, they will be the best in the region. All I need now is a loom.” 

“Abdullah, are you coming home, too?” asked Jameela “What about your job?” 

“I finished today,” said Abdullah, proudly. “I’ve been transferred. Now I’m the 

Landmine Educator for our region. I start work in two weeks.” 

Jameela looked around the room. Everyone was smiling. She could not remember 

seeing everyone smiling before. Tears streamed down her cheeks, gathering at the ends of 

her grin. Everyone was together and everyone was happy. Jameela was overjoyed. 

Bibi Jan took her granddaughter’s hand. “We do not know if the house will be 

damaged or completely destroyed. Our village won’t be the same. Many of our friends 

died in the fighting. We must be prepared for the changes.” 

“We shall pray for our friends and neighbours,” added Kaka Ghullam. “We shall 

pray for a safe journey and a home at the end of the journey.” The family prayed 

together. Hope and fear mingled in their hearts. 

The next morning, Haleema was awake early. 

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“Fatima, get up and get packing. We have a great deal of packing. Hurry up,” 

ordered Haleema. “Now that you have finished your course, it is time to do some work 

again.” 

“I will help.” Fatima watched her sister-in-law struggle to lift a crate of food. 

“Haleema, let me do that for you. You need to look after yourself.” 

“You don’t need to tell me what to do just because you are a midwife now,” said 

Haleema as she walked out of the door with the crate. 

“Why is Mother always mad at Auntie Fatima?” whispered Jameela to Bibi Jan. 

“Auntie Fatima needs to work hard to help this family. Your mother is making 

sure that she does,” said Bibi Jan. 

“I wish they could be friends,” sighed Jameela. 

“Mother! Mother!” Abdullah called from the yard. “We bought a loom for Dad! 

Look! And we bought another donkey and a cart to carry all our belongings back home. 

The cart needs a little fixing but now you and Bibi Jan can rest in the cart on the 

journey.” 

“Abdullah, how did you and your father pay for all these? They must have been 

expensive.” asked Haleema. 

“ I met a man who had just come into the city and he wanted to buy my bike. 

Then he asked us if we knew where to sell the donkey and cart. We got to talking and we 

told him we are going home and could use the cart. He said the cart was not much good 

without the donkey so we traded my bike and one of Dad’s carpets for the donkey and the 

cart. He was very generous but we both got what we needed. As for the loom, Dad sold 

101

another one of his carpets to my teacher and that was enough money to buy the loom,” 

exclaimed Abdullah excitedly. 

“Thank you, Abdullah for contributing your bicycle for the family’s needs. You 

are learning very keen bartering skills from your father. You are growing into such a fine 

young man. I am very proud of you, son.” Haleema touched her son’s cheek gently. Bibi 

Jan and Jameela watched from the doorway as Merza packed the loom on the cart. 

“It is a fine donkey and cart. Well done, Abdullah,” praised Bibi Jan. “And I am 

sure that your father is very happy to have the loom. Everything is working out so well. I 

hope our house has been blessed with some good fortune too.” 

Inside, Ahmed woke to find Auntie Fatima and Auntie Aisha packing and sorting. 

No one noticed the little boy as he dressed and packed and tidied. He opened the door 

each time someone needed to pass through. He gave fresh water to the donkey. Everyone 

was so busy that they took no notice of his efforts to help. Finally, he sat down in the 

middle of the floor and folded his arms across his chest. 

asked. 

Bibi Jan frowned at the pouting child. “What’s wrong, my little Ahmed?” she 

“I’ve helped and helped and no one has noticed. I’ve worked very hard.” 

“Everyone is working hard, Ahmed. It is good that you are helping, too. Thank 

you for all of your work,” said Bibi Jan. 

“I just want to be back in the country.” He looked up at his mother with a sly grin. 

“Little stars can shine brighter there.” 

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Haleema and Fatima 

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The relationship between the two women is the main theme in “Haleema 

and Fatima”. The family is journeying back to their village, accompanied by Aly 

and Aisha, who will stay with them for a visit there. Suddenly, Haleema’s baby is 

born, and Fatima helps her, using her new skills as a midwife. Though there were 

difficulties, Fatima is able to safeguard their health. This prompts Haleema to 

reconcile with her sister-in-law. 


Healing images and symbols: hope, birth 

Modeling of peaceful and virtuous interactions: determination, service to 

others, thankfulness, loving, caring, giving, 

Problem Issues: fear of the unknown, grief 

Healing Strategies: storytelling, cooperation, hospitality and generosity to others, 

finding a new purpose in life, asking for and granting forgiveness, 

106

Haleema and Fatima 

They had been walking for what seemed like days but it had only been a few 

hours. Early that morning they had set out full of hope and expectancy, but with every 

hour, they met more and more families, tired and hungry, cold and hopeless, seeking 

better fortune in the city. 

Jameela watched the long line of travelers. 

“Why is everyone going to the city? Why are they leaving the country and we are 

going back to the country?” asked the young girl of her grandmother. 

Bibi Jan sighed. “In different parts of the country there is very little water so it is 

difficult to grow any crops. In our region, the water is scarce but there is enough. Don’t 

worry, Jameela. Remember when we left home, you said, you promised, that everything 

was going to be all right? Well, it was. The city was good for all of us. Your father 

learned to make carpets and now he can support his family. We will get by even if there 

is very little water for crops. Your brother learned to be a Landmine Educator and will be 

very helpful to our village and the whole region. He will save many lives by helping 

children to avoid the mines. Auntie Fatima has also learned a great deal about helping 

other people.” Bibi Jan stroked her granddaughter’s hair as they huddled together under 

the shawl. The donkey plodded steadily forward. “What a blessing this cart is; I am so 

thankful to Abdullah for trading his bicycle.” 

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Jameela’s head nodded with the motion of the cart. She had fallen asleep. Bibi Jan 

tucked the shawl around her and looked at her family. Her husband, Kaka Ghullam, 

walked slowly leaning on the donkey. In the other hand, he held the hand of his grandson, 

Ahmed. She could hear that he was telling him a story about the old days to keep his 

thoughts from his fatigue. 

Merza, her son, valiantly hobbled along on his crutches. Bibi Jan cringed to think 

of the pain and exhaustion he must feel. As soon as Jameela has some sleep, they would 

let him rest in the cart. Abdullah held his father’s arm, lending him his strength. 

Bibi Jan turned and looked behind her. Her three daughters-in-law walked 

together talking quietly. In the middle was Haleema who would soon have Bibi Jan’s 

fourth grandchild. Haleema looked tired. Fatima and Aisha each held an arm. Her pace 

was slowing. 

Aly followed, leading the second donkey, which was loaded with all of their 

belongings. How happy she was that her second son was coming home again. Somehow 

it took the sting out her longing for her youngest son Yunus, who was killed by the 

landmine that cost Merza his leg. Now they would be together until the farm was repaired 

and operational again. 

walk again.” 

Jameela stirred. “Jameela, we must let your mother and father rest. It is time to 

“Yes, Bibi Jan, I’ll walk,” replied the girl sleepily. 

“Kaka Ghullam, let Merza and Haleema ride now please.” 

“Haleema, you must ride now, you look very tired,” said Bibi Jan. 

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“Yes, I am afraid that I cannot walk further.” As Haleema started to climb into the 

cart, she cried out in pain. 

“Mother, what’s wrong? Are you all right?” Jameela was frightened by the pain 

she could see in her mother’s face. 

“I think,” moaned Haleema, “we must find some shelter” Haleema moaned. 

Kaka Ghullam turned to Abdullah. “Go to that house up the road there and tell 

them that your mother is going to have her baby. See if they will provide her with some 

shelter. Hurry. Pray to Allah they will be so kind.” 

Jameela stared at her new sister cradled in Bibi Jan’s arms. She was amazed at the 

perfection of each tiny finger. Gently, she kissed the little hand. 

Bibi Jan looked at Fatima. “ Fatima you were very helpful and very skilled. Thank 

you for helping this new life come into the world. Haleema and the baby might not be 

alive had you not been able to help them through the difficulties. This baby is very tiny 

and born too early. I am very proud of you.” Bibi Jan smiled at her young daughter-inlaw. 

“Thank you, Fatima,” said Haleema. “I am so grateful to you .You saved her life.” 

“Just rest now, Haleema,” soothed Fatima, turning to take Jameela’s hand. “Let’s 

go and let your mother rest.” 

Fatima and Jameela walked through the doorway of the room. Looking up at them 

were many faces, some of them strangers whose language was unknown to them. 

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“The baby is a girl and she is healthy. Haleema is resting. Everything is all right.” 

Fatima looked to their hosts and smiled her thanks for their generosity. 

“Jameela, please go tell the men our good news.” 

“Yes, Auntie Fatima.” Jameela ran outside to tell the others. 

The next morning, Haleema, the baby and Merza climbed into the cart. The sun 

warmed their backs. Their hosts had been very kind and generous. Gifts were exchanged, 

as were promises to visit in the future. The new baby had raised everyone’s hopes for the 

family’s return to the farm. 

“ Merza, I am very proud of Fatima,” admitted Haleema. “She has worked very 

hard even though she has been so sad. I hope that her new role as midwife to our village 

will help her find purpose in her life without Yunus. She is so young to be a widow.” 

“Fatima has suffered a great deal. Perhaps we have overlooked her suffering 

because of our own,” said Merza. 

“I am sorry that I have been unkind to her,” said Haleema sadly. 

“Haleema, it is Fatima who needs to hear these words.” And with that, Merza 

stopped the cart, grabbing his crutches. “I will ask her to come.” 

Fatima climbed up and looked carefully at Haleema. 

“How do you feel?” she inquired. 

“I feel very well, thanks to you,” smiled Haleema 

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“ I am sorry for that I was not very helpful at Aly’s house but I had to take the 

midwife course to keep myself from thinking about Yunus all the time. I try to think of 

his life but all I see is his death. I thought that perhaps seeing new life coming into the 

world would help me to remember his life. I had hoped that your baby would be a boy so 

that he could be named Yunus.” 

Haleema held Fatima’s hand. “ We would like to call her Fatima. Without you, 

she might not be alive. I hope that you can forgive my unkind words and allow us to 

show our gratitude,” said Haleema. 

Fatima.” 

Fatima wiped away her tears. “I would be honoured if you would name her 

The two women embraced each other. Each could feel the warm soft bundle of 

the new baby sleeping peacefully between them. Warm, pink rays of the rising sun 

glowed on the road as they headed for home. 

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The End of the Journey 

Story # 15 

Written by: Kevin Arthur Land 

Joanna Santa Barbara 


Mary-Jo Land 









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The healing process and renewal of the bonds that exist within the family 

are very evident in “The End of the Journey”. It opens with a dream that Bibi 

Jan has, which indicates the level of anxiety she has for the return trip and the 

condition of their home when they arrive. When they do, they find that the 

damages are minimal, and they begin the process of rediscovering what is truly 

important during the first meal they share together. 


Healing images and symbols: harmony, joy in simplicity, hope 

Modeling of peaceful and virtuous interactions: cooperation, helpfulness, 

Problem Issues: fear of the unknown, 

Healing Strategies: rekindling of relationships, rediscovery of heritage, 

fulfillment of hopes and dreams, family unity, returning home 

115


Bibi Jan dreamed. 

She was alone in a large open-air market looking for the man who was to take her 

home. Anxiously, she gazed into the faces of those she passed, looking for signs of 

recognition. But there were none. The few who even met her eyes, darted their glance 

away, impatiently in search of a foolish vendor with valuable goods. 

As she approached an old woman waving multi-coloured scarves, Bibi Jan felt a 

hand on her shoulder. She turned to see a blind man holding two pairs of shoes; one 

heavily worn, the other new. 

“Which ones would you like?” he asked. 

sockets. 

“I am not sure,” she replied, cautiously, her attention fixed on his empty eye 

“Then I shall advise you. These ones,” he said, extending the older pair, “know 

where you’ve been and will take you back much faster. These others will take some 

getting used to, and will go more slowly, but when you finally reach your destination, 

you will see it in a different light. Please, accept one as a gift.” 

she picked. 

Bibi Jan held a finger to her lips while she decided, and then reached for the one 

She awoke to the sound of Jameela coughing and stirring in her sleep, on the 

ground a few feet away from her. The child sat up suddenly and looked around her as if 

unsure where she was. When her eyes got to Bibi Jan, she could see that she was awake. 

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“Can you not sleep, Bibi?” she asked. 

“I can sleep, little one.” 

“Did I waken you?” 

“Sometimes it is more restful to be awake than to sleep” 

For a moment, there was only the sound of the rhythmic breathing of their 

sleeping family around them. 

“Will we still be home tomorrow?” Jameela asked. 

“Yes, little one.” 

“And will it be the same?” 

“It will be what it is,” her grandmother replied. “It will be what it is.” 

A little after dawn, the family awoke and made their preparations for the last leg 

of their journey. They loaded up the cart and donkey and bade farewell to their hosts, 

Amin and Saida, thanking them for their hospitality a second time. Merza gave them the 

carpet he had weaved for them in the city. 

They traveled much of the way in silence that morning, although Merza would 

sometimes tell Ahmed a story from his childhood days. Haleema listened too. She was 

pleased to see that Merza was growing less and less angry, and was able to sift through 

memories of a happier time. 

Once, they passed a group of mine workers clearing a field, and Abdullah went 

over to them to help, and gather advice, and to give some where he could. The others 

117

stayed by the side of the road and rested and ate some dried fruit and biscuits. Haleema 

asked Fatima to hold her baby while she ate. Ahmed was giving his ears a rest from the 

tales of his father and was running about chasing butterflies. After a while, Abdullah 

rejoined them, ate a little, and then urged them onward. 

By late afternoon, they could see their village up ahead in the distance. Some of 

the houses had been bombed, others looted, and still others miraculously untouched. 

Their pace picked up as their thoughts turned to their house and its condition. 

“Do you think it will be all right, Bibi?” Jameela wondered. 

“One can only hope,” Bibi Jan answered. 

“I think it will,” Ahmed offered confidently. 

When at last the donkey arrived at the entrance, they were relieved to find that, 

outside of some damage to one of the walls, the house looked as it had the day they left. 

For the next few minutes, the travelers inspected the compound as a group, led by Bibi 

Jan. As they sized up its state, they seemed to be looking at their home and garden as if 

for the first time. When they were all satisfied that it was as they remembered, each one 

went in search of special memories. 

Bibi Jan headed nervously for the stable area under the house, where she began to 

rummage through the straw. After a few minutes, she grew fearful, until suddenly, she 

felt the corner of the suitcase. Pushing the straw aside, she removed the suitcase and 

opened it to reveal a large number of photographs of her family history--- from her 

wedding, the births of all her children and grandchildren, their marriages, and many other 

occasions. They were a little dusty but they were safe and unbroken. 

118

In her garden, Jameela walked with her eyes closed over to the spot where the 

pebble drawing had been. After offering a brief prayer to Allah, she opened here eyes to 

see that, to her amazement, not one pebble was out of place. She reached down and 

picked one up, clutching it tightly in her hands. 

Ahmed, meanwhile, was in the house, reaching into a crack in the wall of the 

house to remove a wooden horse his father had given. He was walking back outside to 

show Bibi Jan his treasure when he ran into Jameela heading the same way, clutching 

something close to her chest. 

Inside, preparations for the evening meal were being made. Bibi Jan called to the 

children and they went in to help. Jameela could never recall being so eager to do chores 

before. Their simple meal became a feast in their imaginations as the whole family 

gathered and gave thanks to Allah. Jameela studied the radiant faces of her family. Her 

mother cradled baby Fatima, while Auntie Fatima and Auntie Aisha served the food. 

Abdullah seemed to be such a grown man, so different from the angry brother a year ago. 

Bibi Jan was smiling her biggest smile while Kaka Ghullam, her father and Uncle Aly 

made their plans for the repairs. Everyone was exhausted but so very, very happy. 

Jameela looked over to Ahmed and smiled. 

“It is good to be home,” she said. 

Ahmed smiled and nodded in agreement. “This is the best meal I’ve ever had.” 

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Building the Future 

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born, with Fatima’s help, using her new skills as a midwife. Though there were 









“Building the Future” presents the family coming together as a unit and 

working to restore their home. They can now turn their concerns to the 

community at large. After Abdullah encounters a few of his friends in the village, 

he comes up with the idea of rebuilding homes that have been damaged in the 

war. Along with the others, Abdullah begins a campaign of community 

restoration which also solidifies the next step in his personal growth and heightens 

the admiration of his younger siblings. The final image of the story is that of a 

community working and singing together. 


Healing images and symbols: rebuilding, laughter, joy 

Modeling of peaceful and virtuous interactions: generosity, sharing, giving, 

service to others, cooperation, humour, recognition of virtuous behaviour 

Problem Issues: Coping with destruction 

Healing Strategies: Cooperative work, singing 

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Building the Future 

After a year in exile from their home, everyone -- grandparents, parents, aunts, 

uncle and children -- worked hard to resettle and restore the household. So much had 

happened since they fled the fighting which swept through their village that it seemed 

much longer than only a year ago. The children, Abdullah, Jameela and Ahmed were 

very glad to be back. Their house was damaged very little, but not every family had been 

so fortunate. 

"My friend Shazia has to stay with neighbours," said Jameela. "Her house is a 

wreck. She has hardly any clothes. Mama, can I give her one of my dresses?" 

"Darling, you haven't many clothes yourself. But if you want to give her 

something, you can." 

Abdullah came in. "I've walked around the village. Three houses are completely 

demolished, and another five are badly damaged. Then a lot more have some parts 

damaged. We were pretty lucky. I don't know what those other families will do. Some of 

them are back now, like us." 

"Maybe a magic giant will come along," said little Ahmed. "He'll take some clay 

and make bricks as quick as a flash, and build them into beautiful houses. He'll stick his 

big finger down to make a chimney hole..." 

By now, everyone was laughing at Ahmed, who was pretending to be a giant, 

clomping around with heavy footsteps. 

Abdullah went out again to look at the ruined houses. In some, one or two men 

were slowly dismantling the remnants of the walls. He met two of his friends from 

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school. They talked about what had happened to them in the year since the village was 

shelled. As they chatted, they watched the men in their sad demolition task. 

"No school yet, " said Massoud. "The building was pretty badly shelled." 

at." 

"What'll we do?" said Ajmal. "I suppose our families will find lots for us to work 

"I'll be working in Mines Awareness education,” said Abdullah, trying to conceal 

his pride in his new job. "They’re starting an office in this area next month. I did some 

training in the city." 

"Wow!" said Ajmal. "Lucky you!" 

"Hey, guys!" Abdullah looked excited. "What if we form a team to help people fix 

their houses? We can do that work. My Dad has shown me how to mix the mud and lay 

the bricks." 

Massoud. 

"Great idea, Abdullah. I know some other guys who might join us in this," said 

When they met next day there were seven teenage boys who wanted to join the 

rebuilding team. 

They went together to the worst -hit house and offered their services. The 

unhappy-looking man working in the wreckage looked stunned at first, then smiled and 

assigned them tasks. The boys worked very hard. They sang school songs as they 

worked. Passing villagers stopped to look. They made a big difference in a short time to 

the task of restoring the house. 

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By the time Abdullah arrived home to eat, the family had already heard about the 

team of teenage rebuilders. They had also heard that it was Abdullah's idea to start it. 

Haleema approached him as he stood in the doorway. She embraced him and then 

stepped back to admire how much he had grown. 

"Abdullah, my son, my wild one," Haleema put her hands on his tall shoulders. 

"I've worried and prayed so much about you. Now I know Allah is answering my prayers. 

I'm so proud of what you're doing." 

Ahmed looked up from his meal and stared up at the immensity of his brother. "I 

think he really is the magic giant," he said, and the others laughed. 

Kaka Ghullam said, "The shura is organizing the reconstruction. They'll tell you 

which places need help the most. Maybe they can get the word out to form more teams." 

“I’m glad you are my brother,” Jameela called. 

“I am, too,” Abdullah responded. “I look forward to the day when I can go back 

to teaching you.” Jameela smiled at the thought of doing more reading and writing again. 

The next day, the boys worked hard. At lunchtime, Jameela and Ahmed helped 

Aisha and Fatima bring them all food and drink. The boys began singing together again. 

They changed the words of one of their school songs. 

"War is fire burning all in its path. 

We are burned but our limbs are healing. 

Now we must rebuild our homes, 

Now is the time to reconcile with our brothers and sisters, 

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Now we shall untie the knots 

And sing and dance with each other, free of hatred." 

Jameela, Ahmed, Fatima and Aisha quickly learned the new words and raised 

their voices with the others. 

There were only eleven young people but it was amazing how far their voices 

could be heard. 

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