What can be better than acknowledge the help, the support, the kindness, the time, the care, the advice, the lesson, the comlement, and the so many other things that we receive from others and that make a change in our life.
Isn’t it a wonderful gesture of gratitute to add some extra few lines acknowledging others’ contributions, moral or theoretical, to the completion of your thesis, book, research paper, or even to your life in general.
Isn’t the simple, genuine, ‘Thank you’, whether spoken or written convey much about your being grateful.
Things don’t have to be fancy or expensive, and words don’t have to be two page speech to express our gratitude. It’s our genuine acknowledgement of the part that others played in your life that matters, that can really express your gratitute.
Sometimes, I wonder how some people could be so cruel, so ungrateful to ignore and forget how much others have done and given to them.
Kind words are free, so why be so thrifty to utter any?
Knowledge, creativity, honesty, dedication, and talent, I was thinking of as the main qualities that would make a great teacher. Still, there was something missing, I thought, as an old memory of my school days crossed my mind.
One day in the last month before final exams at my high school in Egypt, it was also the last year, a group of my class, including myself, headed to the agricultural class. By the way, it was one of optional subjects that students had to choose and attend but was not graded. Wouldn’t it be boring to learn about flowers and plants only theoretically without outdoor practical lessons? Of course it would be, but what else could we do? We attended and to make things worse, our teacher was as dull as the lesson. Nothing in her features, her style, and her voice was relating to nature and its beautiful creation.
On that day and before starting the lesson, our teacher assigned some students to do some cleaning in the class while others were instructed to make some readings in the textbook. My friend and I were choosen to wash some plastic plant pots and as I headed to do my job, my friend volunteered to wash them all. It was so kind of my friend, I thanked her and went to the table to start my reading.
A few seconds later, like a captive lion that had just escaped from its cage, our teacher was roaming all over the class searching for her prey – me. Deaf and blind , she kept asking others about me as her bloodshot eyes searching all the faces in the class though I was sitting right before her. Then, the veil on her eyes was lifted and they fixed on me as she ordered me to stand up. I did, feeling my heart would stop beating. I had no idea why she was mad at me.
‘Why didn’t you do the job I assigned you? She yelled and I told her about my friend’s offer, and even my friend, drying her hands with a towel, indicated that she was the one who wanted to do them all. But our teacher was not listening to reason or truth. She screamed while explaining how I was careless, disrespectful, and lazy student. I burst into tears for I had never been any. It wasn’t my earnest tears that had thrown cold water on our teacher’s blazing anger but a sentence uttered by one of the students.
‘You’ve gone so far, miss. You know you shouldn’t behave like that’, said one of the students. The teacher turned to the girl and looked so ashamed. She didn’t approach her because she understood well what the girl meant. Both the teacher and the student were christians, and the first impression the teacher’s behaviour has on a class of both Christian and Muslim girls was her prejudice against me as a Muslim. A few minutes later, she calmed down and asked me with a broad smile to join her and study my lesson at her own desk as if that was a great privilege.
Could her new attempt overcome my shock and my hurtful feelings toward her irrational conduct. Never.
Wisdom that’s the missing quality I was looking for and I believe a great teacher should have it.
Which food, when you eat it, instantly transports you to childhood?
Have you ever tasted Egyptian mango? It’s special, so sweet, so juciy, and so refreshing. It always brings back some of my childhood’s messy and joyful memories.
I would never forget how my mother used to teach us a how to eat properly and stay clean when eating mangoes. Mango etiquette! That’s the rule:
First hold it tightly in your plate. Second, cut it into two halves. Third, carefylly separate the two halves. Fourth, put the one with the seed aside in your plate and hold the second half. Fifth, use your dessert spoon carefully, don”t dig into the mango as if you’ve never seen any. Sixth, spoon it’s juicy flesh bit by bit. Seventh, After you’re done with the first half, put it aside in your plate and repeat the same process with the second. Don’t ever pull the seed with your hand, just spoon out it’s flesh.
Phew, that needs Job’s patience, and of course most children don’t have any especially if their mouths are watering. Therefore, we understood the method, but never applied it. Once we got the fruit, we had a small bowl, we peeled it, and bit and licked. No cutlery, no etiquette. And, we ate the seed like a lollipop. Thank God, we had never made this- no etiquette mango scene at a stranger’s house. Mother always used to be in charge of the cutting process. Besides, we always were entertained by mango juice when visiting others- something like economically wise.
In my childhood, and as I was fond of this delicious fruit, and still am, I expected everyone else would be. I even wondered whether there was anyone who could destest this nourishing fruit. Many years later, I found one who finds mangoes disgusting both in taste and smell. ‘I don’t understand how and why you like it so much? It makes me feel sick.’ He’s always telling me and never eats any. Imagine, that’s my elder son.
That reminded me of the day I created a website and started blogging on WordPress under the title ‘Pure and Simple.’ I think it was around 2016. My plan was to write blogs that would have a simple style and a pure content. By simple, I meant brief and easy to read. By pure, I meant genuine – things that would be reflecting my thoughts, my voice, and my personality.
Now, thinking of my tagline I think it would be: Live a simple life and do your best to keep pure.
Is there any flavour, any type that one can wish for a chocolate bar and can’t find these days? Things have turned out just like Charlie’s and the chocolate factory.
Like everything, all commodities are available. All dreams are coming true these days. All the impossible is possible even in the chocolate industry.
But, isn’t that funny? We have varieties of chocolate types and flavours and still some dream of more. More to spoil children, more to show off, more to gain weight, more to lose weight, more to store, more to discard, etc. Have you ever thought that even the detained hippo in the zoo with his big full open mouth would never dream of being that spoiled, would never dream of a chocolate bar with a different flavour?
By the way, today I wished I have got a chocolate bar, a simple original one, to give to a cute school girl I’ve been seeing everyday as I walk with my daughter to her school in the morning. It was just today that she had the courage to exchange a few words with me before she hurried to go to her school. Her genuine smile and few words were enough to make my day without any fancy chocolate bar dreams.
Describe one simple thing you do that brings joy to your life.
Close to where I live, is a small shopping area. Sometimes when I go out, I see a man stretching his arm out, turing his open plam heavenward, and his hand full of birds’ seeds. A beautiful white pigeon is always the one that stands there to peck at the seeds from his hand. Other pigeons will be gathering and surroundintg them on the ground while pecking at some more seeds that, I am pretty sure, the same man scattered for them. It’s a serene scene that always brings a smile to my face and fills me with joy.
I usually scatter some seeds in my garden for the pigeons to visit and eat. Sometimes, I add some leftover rice or bread crumbs so they have a different treat. But, my little visitors are not as brave as the ones I see outside. I have to be very quiet as I peek from behind the window to watch them. Still, their sight makes me smile.
Do you know that the lenses of our digital cameras, phone cameras, can never give us the same joy as seeing and contemplating things or people with our own eyes. Most people take so many pictures these days, but none will make you feel as the actual moment they were taken.
Throughout our life journey, we usually meet with a lot of people: different people, strange people, and special people. There is an Arabic saying that means; the friend to all is lonely. Or, in other words, the friend to all, has no friends. Do you agree? I do.
I have never had too many friends. As a matter of fact, I’ve never had more than two in every stage of my life. Having this few, or better say one friend every now and then, I have come to appreciate friendship as a unique and pleasant experience that involoves more than just people. This why I agree with the Arabic saying. I encountered people who have tried their best to make as many friends as possible. But, the process often proved futile when they find not a single friend who can listen or be around when they need someone. Just then, they feel lonely even with so many around.
Friendship is a noble and rare experience isn’t it? And, a friend should be a special person. And, by the way, ‘special’ can mean too many things but it doesn’t imply perfection. And, what I value most in a friend is their honesty.
What else could be better than being a true friend? Honesty. It really hurts when, one day, you find out that your friend was using you just like a taxi driver who’s been booked to take them to a certain destination. Once they arrive, they slam the door and left without even offering a goodbye note.
A few years ago, I was visiting with my father-in-law as we were on our summer holiday back home to Egypt. He was in his late-sixties, and though he was suffering from some serious health problems, he was mentally and physically okay. One of his granddaughters had just left when we arrived.
As we were having some tea together, my father-in-law couldn’t hold his temper any longer. He huffed and puffed, and I put my tea cup back on the table, holding my breath. I didn’t know whether he was in pain or whether he was devastated by anything. I remained silent, praying my any one would join us in the living room. No one did. And, the poor man exploded.
‘She was on that junk machine for the whole day. Her fingers tapping and tapping all the time. Her eyes fixed on that trash. She didn’t hear, didn’t see but that … phone.’
I swallowed and thanked God mine was in my bag.
‘That’s what she always does every visit. It’s stuck in her hand. In the kitchen, at the dinning table, and even in the bathroom.’
When I burst out laughing, he smiled and his anger evaporated a bit.
‘Stupid generation.’ He added before changing to another topic.
I think this summarises how life has changed after the internet, or can we be more accurate and say after having it on our cell phones. A few years before this happening, my in-laws’ house was full of life and noise. People, young and old, were talking, playing, laughing, arguing, etc. But, after the interent has become widely used and accessible, life is mainly about being live, online. That why my father-in-law couldn’t quite fit into the new generation’s electronic mold.
Why do some, if not most, people recall their sacrifices when they feel hurt or betrayed by others. And sometimes, they become jealous and angry at some. Don’t expectations, in this context, make one’s sacrifices more like a bribe, or rather a debt? I’ve sacrificed such and such for you, but inside, I was waiting for the moment when you repay me in some way or another. To do what I’ve been expecting. Or to support me later on in life.
Gratitude is a noble quality, and of course we all like to receive some appreciation for any help and kindness we give through life. But that doesn’t mean to throttle others by the sacrifices we’ve made for them. For example, some parents often brag about the money and time they have sacrificed for their children. They would expect their children to enroll in a particular university, or apply for a specific job, and, in some cases, to pay back each pound and even each hour their parents have invested in them.
Don’t you agree that any genuine sacrifice is related to a lawful cause? In other words, it cannot be a sacrifice when one gives up their beliefs and principles for the sake of temporary pleasures, but the opposite can be. Besides, doesn’t a sacrifice imply pure and sincere inention. How else could we enjoy the deed and feel its blessings?
A sacrifice is a true sacrifice when is motivated by love, commitment, and contentment.
Some people are born to be leaders. Some gain this role as a gift, a blessing, but others fight for it, trying to grasp it by all means, legal or illegal – lawful or unlawful. The first category has people’s love and respect, but the other has people’s fear and desdain.
On the other side, some people play the followers. I can’t say they are born to be followers because we are humans not robots. There are some who believe whatever others say, do whatever others command. How could they do the opposite if they believe they are in no position to think otherwise? They think they are nobody, and nothing is worth sacrificing the comfort of everyday mediocrity.
Thinking of both, I think there should be a third option. Some people seek neither blind submission nor supreme leadership. Here’s why.
First, it is a huge responsibility, a heavy burden, an awful nightmare to lead others, to take the responsibility for their lives. It’s also so dazzling, so tempting that once you take the step, you’d get trapped into its role’s circle web. Isn’t it enough to be asked one day about your own deeds? A leader would also be asked about those who trust and follow them.
Second, it’s a shame to live your life just following others, imitating them, ignoring whatever is happening around you, accepting whatever you hear, and trust whoever you meet. That’s a follower, in my view. Perhaps, at some point, in our life, we have lived this bland, blunt life, but it’s also expected to get out of this phase once and forever.
Everyone has their own touch in life, their own dreams, and their own abilities. Do I have to follow the same recipe to get the same perfect result? ? No. Never. I’ll make some changes. I will add things and omit others. In the end, I am the one making it and the product is mine. But, thanks for the inspiration.
Pure and Simple 