After a few days of rain, the sun brought a sense of relief to people. As usual, after the school day ended, Ada was making her way towards the bus stop, playing the game created by the colors of the pavement with joy. Stepping on the red-colored pavement was forbidden, one had to stand on one foot on the yellow ones, and everything was allowed on the gray ones. It was the logic of a child’s mind.
She hurried to catch the bus. Today was the day for her coaching classes. The bus would drop her off at the coaching center where her mother worked. She loved going there after school. Spending time with other teachers’ children, going to the nursery on the upper floor to play games, wandering in empty classrooms, sitting quietly in the corner of her mother’s classes, buying things from the canteen on her mother’s account, and engaging in various challenges with the canteen vendor, she enjoyed them all. She found pleasure in each of them. Once, she had a challenge with the canteen vendor to drink a whole bottle of water in one go. She still smiled at the memory of that event. If she were told she couldn’t challenge the canteen vendor again, how disappointed she would be, how broken her heart would be if she knew she couldn’t run in those corridors again.
Today was her last visit. This might be the first memory to enter the folder named “Stolen Memories.” A memory slipping through her fingers, an irreplaceable memento…
Although this news saddened Ada, she still had a warm and cozy school. How much she loved it. She loved her sincere friends, knowledgeable and energetic teachers, and the opportunities the school offered…
She had run in those corridors countless times. She had never stayed back for extra classes. She had never stopped dreaming. But another memory was stolen. Her beloved school, where she had imagined studying until the final grade, was also closing down. What a great pain it was.
She was sad. The path to the state school near their house was visible. She had to bid farewell to her school, which was full of various courses, trips, and talented teachers.
Wasn’t the love for education what mattered most? After all, an educated person could read anywhere. They must demonstrate what kind of people were raised in our schools. They should demonstrate our teachers, our schools, and our values…
Even if a memory was stolen, the feelings it evoked couldn’t be stolen. She must continue on her path steadfastly under the influence of those feelings.
Ada and others like her made a special effort to be the top of the class, to win all competitions, and all awards. She had become accustomed to that school too. Time healed everything in the end…
Time and circumstances were constantly changing, becoming a little more challenging every day. This time, not only memories were stolen but it felt like her father was stolen too. Her father’s journey seemed to be to a faraway land. They still imagined the days when they would be a family again. Their patience and prayers hadn’t gone unanswered. The day of reunion had finally come. There was great excitement, great joy. Leaving behind their homeland, the place where they were born, raised, their relatives, and loved ones was hard, but they had to. The day would come when they would return. They needed time for that. They didn’t want to leave their beloved country to the wolves. Those days would come, this longing would end, and tears would cease one day. They had to continue with patience and prayers…
They had also left their country. The joy of coming back together kept them alive. They had begun to adapt to the country they had come to. Hope was needed. They had to look around with joy, hope, and love.
They weren’t without struggle. Language, new environment, new people, experiences, ongoing experiences, were challenging, but the problem giver also provided the solution. Sometimes they might feel like everything in their lives was stolen, or a lot of people like them might feel that way, but who did everything belong to anyway? Who had given what was thought to be stolen? Who had given their belongings, their homes, their families, and friends? They hadn’t paid anything to obtain them. All these things weren’t theirs. They couldn’t claim that something that didn’t belong to them was stolen. God, the owner of everything, could take or give as He pleased. It was a test. They had to continue without giving up, without deviating from the right path.
Who hadn’t faced difficulties on the right path! What had our Prophet (peace and blessings be upon him) experienced! What had the Companions experienced! Hadn’t the Honorable Sumayya and Yasir, may God be pleased with them, been among the first martyrs on this path, regardless of how much torture they endured? Despite everything, Ada thought, “We must continue on the right path at all costs!”
They had started to see the country they had come to as their homeland over time and had begun to live to find ways to help there. Three years had passed quickly. Their ideals had come alive again, and they were trying to serve even here. They had a great duty. They had to live and represent their values and beliefs very well.
Ada tried not to forget that the things they thought they had weren’t really theirs. After all, this world was temporary. She had to continue on her path without forgetting that it was a test.
