Daughters of Iraq by Revital Shiri-Horowitz Read Free Book Online Page A

looked like my grandfather: blonde with the greenest eyes, the exact color of your shirt.” Farida sighed deeply, then looked down at her granddaughter. She squared her shoulders and went on.
    “The three of us were, well, our own little circle. We did all kinds of silly things. Sometimes we did things that were downright dangerous. Thinking back, I can’t understand how nothing bad ever happened to us. I hope you will behave better than we did,” she added with a grin.
    “Grandmother, I already behave—ask Mom. I help her take care of Shai, and I never get into trouble,” said Ruthie, her proud chin jutting forth.
    “Yes. I know you are a good girl. Now where were we?”
    “The silly things you did.”
    “We did all kinds of stupid things, but that’s a whole other story. Now I want to tell you about Eddie’s Bar Mitzvah, which I will never forget as long as I live.” Farida brow wrinkled.
    “Why not?” asked Ruthie.
    “Because it was his Bar Mitzvah, and I was only ten years old, maybe eleven, but I loved him in a way I had never loved anyone before.” Farida couldn’t believe she was confiding in her granddaughter, who may or may not have understood what she was saying.
    “Not even Grandpa?” Ruthie asked, shocked.
    “If you promise not to tell anyone what I’m about to tell you, I’ll answer your question.”
    “I promise. I swear to God: I will never tell a soul.”
    “Okay then,” Farida smiled. “I think I can trust you.” She took a deep breath and looked down, like a girl caught being naughty. “I loved him even more than I loved your grandfather, may his memory be blessed, and you know how much I loved him . Eddie was my first love. When you grow up, you’ll understand.” She winked at Ruthie. “There’s nothing like first love. That stays in your heart forever.”
    “Ugh, adults always say that,” Ruthie complained. “‘When you grow up, you’ll understand,’” she said, mimicking her grandmother’s voice.
    “Do you want to be angry, or do you want me to go on?”
    “Oh, fine, go on, Grandmother.” Ruthie rolled her eyes and exhaled loudly.
    “At home, I remember, we spent weeks preparing for the party, which would take place in the winter, right before Chanukah.”
    “What?” Ruthie asked, stunned. “You had Chanukah in Iraq, too?”
    “Of course!” Farida laughed loudly, then quieted as she remembered Sigal and Shai napping in the next room. “People celebrate holidays all over the world, even in Iraq. Chanukah has been around for a long time,” she said, stroking Ruthie’s face.
    “The party was going to be in our house. We had to prepare weeks in advance. We had winter curtains and summer curtains—can you believe it? The summer curtains were white with the most gorgeous embroidery. We took them down and put up the winter curtains, which were also beautiful. They were velvet, like the dress I bought you before your birthday—remember?”
    “Which dress, Grandmother? The red one?”
    “Yes,” said Farida, “the red dress I bought you. It’s made from the exact same material as the curtains. You know something? Now that I think about it, every year, before Chanukah, we’d put away our regular menorah, which was the light source for everyday, and replace it with a special one. We did it every year, including the year of the Bar Mitzvah, allah yirchamu .”She pointed toward the heavens. “And Eddie’s Bar Mitzvah fell right on Chanukah.”
    Ruthie’s eyes shimmered, and her mouth hung open, slack in anticipation. Farida continued: “This menorah, the one we put out for Chanukah and Eddie’s Bar Mitzvah, was made of real silver.” With her hands, she formed the shape of a candelabrum. “It had nine branches. Ach,what a gorgeous menorah.” Longing infused her voice. “I’m telling you, never in my life have I seen a lamp that beautiful. It was truly one-of-a-kind. And the servants had to polish it every year—it took them hours.”
    “Why?”