Diamonds & Pearls

Diamonds & Pearls (34)-Her Name is Me (The Final Chapter)

              Thank you, I thought silently. It felt good to hear someone say that they were with me when I felt like the whole world was against me. For days I sat in front of the television watching everything unfold as more and more was revealed. Howards people tried to dismiss everything as hearsay but the evidence was overwhelming. It irked me that most of what they talked about was the money he'd stolen and not the lives he'd ruined. I would forever be scarred by these events but no one truly cared. Or so I thought.

               After a while, people started sending me flowers and cards. I sat in my bed reading letter after letter from strangers I'd never met. One letter really touched my heart.

Dear Daleela,

Your world has been flipped upside down and you're probably going through a lot. You don't know me but when I first saw your story, I followed it closely. My child was kidnapped many years ago and I saw myself in your mother. I just want you to know that although there's so much hate in the world, you are loved. Don't let the things that happened to you ruin your life. You are spectacular and you are a gift to this world. There is a light at the end of the tunnel. Your tunnel just seems a little longer than most at the moment. Although you don't see us, there are so many people who have fought to get your story out there and have fought to bring you home. Don't let the media allow you to think that there aren't people out there who believe your life matters. Please continue to shine your light on the world and become someone whose name we'll never forget.

With Love and Support,

Laquisha Reynolds

                 My face dampened as silent tears ran down my cheeks onto the paper. It's like she knew exactly what I needed to hear. The fact that she'd actually took the time out of her day to go through the trouble of sending it to me meant so much. I was grateful for all of the beautiful poems, drawings, and letters sent to me by all of these kind hearted human beings. Lately, those feelings of worthlessness that the world pushed on me were breaking me down. But now, It's like I could feel the love of these people filling the dark broken crevices within my heart. Maybe the world truly wasn't all dark and terrible. Although my problems were still problems, there was hope rising again inside of me. I felt like if I focused on love and prayer, I would become so strong that the racism, sexism, and islamophobia that tried so hard to bring me lower in my darkest moment would not affect me this way ever again. I was now determined to rise up from these ashes born anew.

* * *

               With each miraculous new day that I was written to see, my heart got stronger. It was a slow progression but it was getting better. I spent my every waking moment with my eyes in a book trying to learn and envelope my mind with knowledge. It preoccupied the dark thoughts that often fought against my progress. I was making it though slowly but surely. My family was worth the fight and so was I. As my heart got stronger, something still ailed me. I wondered night after night about Cole and his siblings. He plagued my mind no matter how hard I tried to shake him. I played scenes in my head of me apologizing to him again and again. I was wrong and I wanted him to know how sorry I was for hurting him. He risked his life to find me and I'd used him in my moment of weakness.

                 I had to stop thinking about it. Talking to him would be backtracking my progress. He would take me back to feelings that I was trying so hard to get rid of. I couldn't take thinking about us right now. I wasn't strong enough to face him yet. So, for the billionth time, I tried to erase him from my mind and delve back into the lives of the characters in the book that lay on my lap. I heard a small snore. Sulaiman lay with his chunky arms and legs sprawled across the sofa. He was gone to the world and it was the absolute cutest thing in existence. I felt my heart warming at the sight of him as I ran a hand gently through his black curls. He was so beautiful. His small pink lips puckered slightly before his face relaxed once again. His dimple on his smooth little brown cheek made an appearance. Oh, how I loved that boy. I would die to protect him. I prayed that he never let the darkness in the world inhibit him and that he became a strong Muslim man. I knew that if he became a good Muslim, it would be a gift to humanity because he would be good to everyone regardless of who they were or where they came from.