From My Diaries in America: A Coincidental Friend
Yemeni mp
Ahmed Saif Hashed
In the twilight of my sixties, I experienced a poignant moment that transported me back to my childhood, making me feel like a six-year-old once more. My emotions, shaped by decades of life, intertwined with the innocence and longing of youth—feelings I had long left behind and can never reclaim. This awakening unfolded amid the struggles and exhausting rhythms of my life in New York, where I sought solace in the memory of my late mother. I yearned to rest my head in her lap, to cry out my pain and frustration until tears no longer flowed. Yet today, I found not only my mother but also my father, brother, and a remarkable friend—each one of them a pillar of support, lifting my spirits.
In this serendipitous twist of fate, I discovered a three-in-one connection, or perhaps even ten-in-one. This rare friend entered my life through an extraordinary coincidence. Out of respect for his privacy, I refrain from naming him, mindful of the pressures and malicious gazes that may seek to burden him. He embodies profound kindness, delicate sensitivity, and sharp intelligence—a truly remarkable individual.
Every day, he reaches out, often more than three times, asking, “What do you want? What do you need?” With genuine concern, he inquires about my needs, from the weighty to the trivial. When he detects my shyness, he instinctively transforms kindness into action, lifting the heavy veil of embarrassment that often cloaks me.
Though our friendship is still in its infancy, it has blossomed into a strong bond, growing deeper with each passing day. His simple gestures have etched an indelible mark upon my soul, while his nobility, bravery, and warmth have ignited a profound love within me.
He teaches me to pause at traffic signals, stressing the importance of respecting the laws of the land I now call home. He shows me the intricacies of using a razor with care, prepares sandwiches for me with tenderness, and invites me on outings with his children, welcoming me as one of their own.
He gifted me a prayer rug without imposing rituals or leadership upon me. He welcomes my critiques and respects my privacy, never stifling my opinions or holding them against me. He treats me not merely as a guest bound by the etiquette of hospitality but as a cherished friend and brother. He shares in my joys and sorrows, offering support and a sanctuary for my weary soul. His kindness and deep respect captivate me.
He has never sought to impose his opinions or political views, nor does he belittle my beliefs. He maintains the necessary distance between us, honoring my right to belong and choose. He rejects the mindless replication of beliefs and carries no grudges or resentments. He is a wise and balanced individual who regards me as a free human being, recognizing my inherent right to freedom until the end.
Affectionate and loving, he possesses a captivating charisma, a man of action who toils diligently for his living. Despite his demanding schedule, he greets me with a radiant smile and lasting kindness, a beacon in my life.
I am deeply moved by his kindness, humility, and beautiful spirit. No beauty in the world can fully capture his essence, nor can words adequately convey the depth of his admirable qualities. I see him as a gift from fate, a blessing that emerged after a series of harsh struggles and a life drained by my experiences in New York.
I now see him as an answered prayer for someone I have treated well—a reflection of kindness that I had forgotten but which fate has returned to me multiplied. I am incredibly grateful for his presence as I navigate the challenges ahead, finding support when the world feels constricting and relief when despair tightens its grip.
