The grandmother cried, thanked God and said: “That was her call…every one of us is waiting just for this call …It is God’s call…
Five children are surrounding their sick mother, making a circle around her.
She is at the center, as she has always been their center. “Our mothers are our centers,” said one of the children, responding to a question as why they are encircling her.
She spent more than twenty five years in bed…twenty five years of talking about a call she had been waiting for.
Everyone was waiting with her. When we wait, there are always others who wait with us–we never wait alone.
Every child was looking at their mother’s eyes when she stood up and went to the phone. She simply said “Hello” to the caller, looked at the people around her and told them: “Goodbye.” She felt down dead.
Yet, the phone kept ringing. Everyone nearby stood up and ran to the dead body as one of the sons took the phone…no one was on the other side of the receiver.
The grandmother cried, thanked God and said: “That was her call…every one of us is waiting just for this call …It is God’s call…God knows who will be the next to answer the coming call…God knows who would be the next number to call…That would be I…You…He…She…maybe, We…you or They…”
She stopped for a while, looked at the kids beside her who were listening to their grandmother without understanding what she was talking about and then she went on talking.
“All subject pronouns have a fixed day… a fixed place…a fixed number…a personal and private number…this call’s aim is not to make us cry and sad…NO…NO…This call is just to remind us of our coming calls…And when you watch someone answering his creator’s call, you must be ready to answer yours at any time…May be you, or I, would be the following call…”
The children stood up fixed in their places unable to move either backward or forward…unable to murmur a sound…there was a dead silence at the house. After a while, one of the kids said to his grandmother: “I have no mobile, grandma, no number and I will never answer any caller…”
The grandmother smiled and then replied: “Son, when we are born, we all have a number…a hidden one…a kind of a password that only the creator knows…Our creator knows how long our life contract will last… God knows where and when it will reach its deadline…The lord taught us to be good, do good and live a life of goodness…to live today as it will be the last day without forgetting to work for tomorrow as if we will live eternally….Allah taught us to be ready to answer the call at the right moment and at the right place…”
At that point, the grandmother stopped talking , rose her hand towards the heavens and said: “My sons, it’s my turn…My mobile is ringing…soon , I will answer the call…Please call the neighbours, prepare your mother to her last house…and while putting her in the grave, don’t forget to think about your real houses…underground…goodbye. And be good…I will miss you Dears.”
The grandmother died too…and so we will…