I Cry For Her

 
I carry gifts to my dear friend and her sons, from their wayward husband and father. Alha is a friend of my husband first, on meeting Sophia his wife, a beautiful friendship bonded between us, which spans across the seas. Now for almost eight years, her husband lives in New Jersey and she and her three boys in Egypt.
I carry a closed white plastic bag for her from this wayward man, for who she has been waiting these long eight years to return. With care she opens this white bag to find all the pictures of herself. I feel her pain swell within her, yet she closes the bag, and continues to speak, stands tall, and does not allow her tears to invade her eyes. Yet I know they are in her heart. I feel like I have betrayed her – yet I knew not of the contents of this tiny white plastic bag. If I had known, I would have thrown it in his face. How dare he do this to this beautiful and wonderful woman? And to do this by giving it to me is unforgivable.
She stands tall and bids good bye
And I cry for her.
©8/6/1999 Ellenelizabeth Cernek-Kashk