“Fereiba!” KokoGul called out to me from the house. She had grown impatient.
Hastily, I grabbed as many mulberries as I could, my fingers purple with their ripe juice. I scurried back to the house, shooting an occasional glance over my shoulder lest the old man reappear. My hands trembled as I put the bowl down in front of KokoGul, who sat overseeing my sisters as they worked diligently in their notebooks. She started on her snack. I stood before her, unmoved.
“What is it? What’s happened to you?” she snapped.
“Madar-jan, I was outside—under the mulberry tree.”
“And?”
“It’s that, while I was there . . . I saw an old man. He came from light, from roshanee. He said my name and he told me that I was not alone. He said he would stay with me.” As I said the words, I could hear his voice in my head.
“An old man? So where did he go?” KokoGul squinted and leaned forward pointedly.
“He disappeared. He came so suddenly; I felt his hand on my shoulder. As soon as he finished what he had to say, he disappeared. I didn’t see where he went—he just vanished! I don’t know who he was.” I was breathless but not frightened. I waited for KokoGul to interpret what I’d seen.
“B’isme-Allah!” KokoGul exclaimed, praising God. “You have seen an angel! That’s who he was, you simpleminded girl! Oh, not to recognize an angel when he taps you on the shoulder and promises to watch over you!”
An angel? Could it be? Grandfather had told us stories about angels and their celestial powers when he recited suras with us. How blind I had been not to recognize an angel before me! KokoGul went on, ranting that I did not appreciate this unearthly encounter. My sisters looked on wide-eyed. Her sharp voice faded as the angel’s words echoed in my mind.
He would watch over me. My guardian angel would bring roshanee to the path ahead. I would never be alone.
The following Jumaa, Friday, we waited for my father to return from the masjid. KokoGul had instructed my father to pray that she and her daughters would also receive a visit from a guardian angel. My father hadn’t said much about my encounter. I didn’t know what or how much he believed.
KokoGul and I believed together. In this, we were united. She saw small changes in me, and I saw what those changes did to her. I walked taller. I followed her instructions but didn’t quiver before her as I once had. I wandered in and out of the orchard boldly, day and night. I half expected my angel to reappear and offer soft words of comfort.
KokoGul was beside herself. To her friends, she boasted that I, her daughter, had been visited by an angel. The visit was a herald of good fortune, and she hoped to absorb some of that light. She began to examine her dreams with more diligence, looking for clues that the heavens were communicating with her too. I heard her newly charged supplications when she prayed at home. She spoke to me a little more sweetly, with a gentle hand stroking my hair.
My sisters were curious about the whole matter but unable to grasp KokoGul’s yearning to meet the man I’d seen in the orchard. Najiba, closest to me in age, was most puzzled by KokoGul’s reactions.
“What did the angel look like, Fereiba? Were you scared of him?” she asked curiously. We were sitting cross-legged on the floor, shelling peas from their pods.
“He just looked like an old man, like somebody’s grandfather.” My words felt far too simple, but I didn’t know how else to answer.
“Whose grandfather? Our grandfather?”
“No, not anyone we know. Just a grandfather,” I paused, wanting to do him justice. “He glowed and he knew my name.” I tossed a handful of peas into the bowl between us.
Najiba was quiet, considering my explanation. “Well, I’m glad I didn’t see him. I think I would have been scared.”