Section 4: tents
People to know:
Peach Kana
Berry Kleid
Jicky Kana
Vieena Violetta
Clementine Kadey
A hobby #3
Me and Berry and Juicy and Clementine sit in a tent and embroider people’s clothes. Oh, and so does Lila. Mostly the clothes are dull and tan. Juicy and Clementine say we need to keep the camp bright. This isn’t a dumb hobby anymore.
Flute
A man named Jenson Milles owns a flute. And I can play ‘Amazing Grace’ and ‘Lourdes Hymn’ on it.
Radiating
Clementine, Juicy, Berry, Lila, Maybel, Kale, Vienna Mama, the flute man, the ‘two girls’ lady, three children who are triplets, a hundred-year old woman, a lady with spectacles, twin babies, a gentle seamstress, a lonely man, an architect, a sister, a monk, a pastor, me and everyone else in the camp love my flute music radiating through the tents’ tin cloth.
©Bengin Ahmad/ Flickr
A home
I have to say I have a very. Very. Lame home. A tent for a house. It doesn’t deserve the title house, or home. You cannot make memories in a tent. Or even if you were home, you couldn’t make memories knowing people like you are getting killed for no reason. Because a god you don’t know is supposedly telling people to kill. The tent I sleep in, survive in, stay in, cannot be titled home. You can’t even say anyone lives in there.
Innovative
Me and Juicy and Lila and Clementine and Berry and even Vieena, who is weak, stand up and embroider the tents. Me, Berry, Vieena, Lila on the outside. Juicy and Clementine inside. When the seamstress, Summer Springsteam, strolls by she says we are beautifully hopeful and innovative.
The husband tragedy
Clementine and Summer’s. Vienna’ aunt’s. My aunt’s. My grandmother’s. The ‘two girls’ lady’s. The lady with spectacle’s. Husbands all perished. And Juicy’s boyfriend’s. And the triplets’, Berry’s fathers. Why?
Outburst
Inside the tent is peaceful, thought I hate to admit it. Suddenly, a surge of anger courses through my blood. I scream. I scream for all the world to hear. I hate them! I scream. Hate them! Shut up. other god! Close your ears, people! Ruler person, reason with yourself. I hate you! Hate you! Yes, you, ISIS! Oh, God. Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani. My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?
I immediately feel sorry for my outburst.
Thursday #2
On Thursday, me, Lila, Juicy, Berry, Clementine, and Vieena discover embroidering won’t work. We dye the tents different colors. It would have been the perfect Thursday if that day we hadn’t gotten word my stepfather was killed Wednesday of last week.
Section 4: the sad song
People to know:
– Peach (Tilly) Kana
– Berry (Jana) Kleid
– Juicy (Joy) Kana
– Clementine Kadey
– new friend, Lola/Olive Kadey
– new friend, Derik Kadey
Informing
Juicy is trying to inform Mama that she and Clementine have to go back to Iraq to try to help people escape. Mama is trying to inform her this is a terrible idea. Sorry, Juicy, but I agree with Mama.
In the dead of the night
Juicy and Clementine snuck away in the dead of the night. Mama cried and cried and I held her and comforted her. Then we switched.
Composing
Mr. Jenson Milles left. He left everything. He secretly told me I could have it. I only keep his guide to composing book, his flute and his leather-bound photo album. Not long after I composed my first song, a new family moved into Jenson Milles old Tent.
© World Bank Photo Collection/ Flickr
A letter
A letter is delivered along with Clementine. The letter says ISIS murdered Juicy. And Clementine got away. Clementine is depressed with guilt, but I do not blame her. But I will never forgive the guard protecting the camp the night the girls snuck away. The guard who so carelessly didn’t see them going into the arms of death.
More
Clementine’s parents perished. Her siblings join us and Mama says she adopted more children. She says the cheerful children almost fill the empty space left by Juicy Joy Kana.
Lovebirds
Derik Kadey called me out of the tent Saturday morning. He said he felt for me. And at nine, I received my first kiss.
The sad song
It radiates through the tent’s thin cloth. A song of sadness, reaching deep inside my heart. A song of melancholy, the bitterness and the faded sweetness. The perfect pitches of the flute, makes its magic.
The resonating song, speaking, telling ISIS people that they don’t need to be so mean. The mourning for lost Juicy Joy Kana. The gracefulness, then the jolt my mind has adapted to. And the sweet, sweet hope resting in all our breaths, our sighs, our prayers, our minds, our people, our faith, and our hearts. Oh Lord.
More Catholic Resources
Litany Of Trust | Sr. Faustina Maria Pia, Sister of Life
“I Thirst For You” – A Letter From Mother Teresa
Mass Will Never Be The Same After You See This
All Your Questions About Adoration Answered…What Is It? How Do I Go? What Do I Do? And More!
26 Catholic Books You Should Be Reading
How To Pray The Rosary? A Step-By-Step Visual Guide
