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Featuring O. Henry’s Short Stories
ETHOS An English and Translation Department Magazine
SPRING 2015
Poetry
Art Reviews
Book Reviews
Event Reports
Music
Photography
In T
his Issu
e: W
inn
ing
Sto
ries o
f th
e S
ho
rt Sto
ry C
on
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2
From the Editor In Chief’s Desk
Dearest Reader,
It is a delight to know you’re reading this! Welcome to Issue 8 of Ethos
Magazine.
In the pages to follow you will find the hard work of my team and our
contributors. I congratulate them for their enthusiasm and productivity, and
I hope you enjoy their work as much as I have. As ever, I would like to thank
Dr. Sanna Dhahir for her immense support and belief in us.
Ever since the inception of my leadership at Ethos I’ve wondered what a
student magazine should feature, especially what Ethos should be all about.
Events, personal stories, photography? Is there more?
We, as students, must open our eyes to find what we love and what
makes us feel. A vast world lies before us and it affects us on a daily basis.
Our environment molds and influences our decisions and how we spend time.
We need to really pay attention to our thoughts, both fleeting and lasting,
and we need to make them count. We must learn to express what we know.
This is my dream for Ethos.
Writers, observe cultures, peoples, and reflect those in your work.
Photographers, show us what you found before us. And my dearest reporters,
lend us your senses and take us places we couldn’t visit.
I’m counting on you. Contribute to Ethos.
Message from the Dean of Humanities
Once again, it’s a source of pride and joy to have a new number
of EThos laden as usual with the creative endeavours of Effat
students. Sumaiyya Naseem, you are indeed doing so well! The
magazine has taken higher flights since you have assumed the
role of Editor-in-Chief. I would like to express my deepest grati-
tude to all the magazine’s editors and contributors, whose crea-
tivity and versatility have never ceased to amaze me and give
me fresh re-assurances about the future of the magazine. One of
the attractions of EThos is the variety of the articles included in
each issue to represent so many vital aspects of life and satisfy
the tastes of readers who look for variety, as well as quality, of
course.
As an admirer of our students’ writing prowess, I would
like to encourage faculty and students to read, contribute to,
and support EThos, Effat’s high profile magazine.
3
Haya S. Alakel
Reemaz Hetaimish
Alyah S. Al Faqeeh
Nada Edrees
Leena Yaseen
Roba Al Toukhi
Sara Alamoudi
Ghazal J Ajeeb
Malak Albugami
Annette Zambrano
Dania A Suroor
Maha Obaidallah Al
Ghamdi
Alsaffath M Faruq
Sandra Dirksen
Lojain F AlJabre
Maysam A. Abdusuliman
Kgnooz J Ajeeb
Haneen Nassier
Safa Alofi
Zehra Ali
Lama Niyazi
Sumayya A Toonsi
Razan Almas
Mashael Zidan
Hadel A Algarni
Haya A Al-Shakhi
Lutfiyyah W AlJudibi
Aram Al Shareef
Lama Jamjoom
Afeefah Salim
Nora Al-Rifai
Nadine Hussain
Fatima Abdullah
Haroon
Editor in Chief Sumaiyya Naseem
Co-Editor
Ghaliya Zaneb Aziz
Faculty Supervisor Dr. Sanna Dhahir
Design Shafna Abdulmajeed
Sumaiyya Naseem
Reporters Sumaiyya Naseem
Jawaria Ali Khan
Guest Contributor
Michael Bustamante
Contributors (Writing,/Photography)
We are currently accepting
contributions for future issues of
Ethos Magazine.
Photographers and artists can
send HQ pictures of their work in
order to be featured.
Contact us for further details:
4
A Center for Special Needs in KSA 06
Art Therapy Report 09
Do We Hoard? 10
Small Changes Lead to Big Results 11
Tips for Battling Depression 12
Beauty Inside and Out 13
Rain Experiences 14
Ethos Music 19
COFFEE BREAK
FEATURED
A Center for Special Needs in KSA
Sumaiyya Naseem
5
The Kingdom is home to a significant number of
children with special needs. Anything from a mild
learning disability, profound cognitive impairment,
and psychiatric problems to allergies or develop-
mental delays qualifies as a special
needs situation. However, there is a
need for professionals and institu-
tions that provide the necessary
care and guidance that is required
for these children and their con-
cerned parents.
Hope For Exceptional Needs was
launched nearly 16 years ago by Dr. Uzma Ra-
heem, a Clinical Psychologist. The Centre has
emerged as the only multilingual centre for chil-
dren with special needs in Jeddah and is certified
by the Ministry of Social Affairs. Dr. Raheem is cur-
rently working towards several projects including
counselling of female students at international
schools, and a parent awareness and group coun-
selling program which will initially target mothers.
In November Hope Centre held a two-day free
screening event where parents brought in their
children for assessment and diagnosis.
According to Dr. Raheem, parents
living in the Kingdom don’t have
proper awareness. Denial, and ina-
bility to cope are two of the factors
that cause them to either neglect
the child or pamper too much. This
makes it difficult for anyone to
reach out and work with the child
since a proper stimulating environment was lack-
ing in the early stages.
The institute identifies itself as a Centre for Func-
tional Academics and Life Skills as their purpose is
to help the children function independently and to
equip them with basic life skills. The key for such
enhancement is the involvement of the parents
and the function of the community as a support
A Centre For Special Needs in KSA
Sumaiyya Naseem
The Centre has
emerged as the only
multilingual centre for
children with special
needs in Jeddah
6
“Parents often assume we are miracle workers”,
shares Dr. Uzma Raheem. “Lack of follow up at
home can drain the physical, emotional and finan-
cial hard work being put in by us. It is all lost.”
Her advice for struggling parents is to “take things
one moment at a time. It is important to have faith
as it makes things easier.”
In the Gulf the widespread culture of handing in-
fants to the care of maids and nannies is detri-
mental to the relationship between the mother
and the child. Mothers should play a direct role in
raising the child unless they have no other choice
but to entrust the helping hand.
Spending time with the child helps spot signs of
disabilities. The physical characteristics of Down
Syndrome make it easy to be found. Other signs
that parents should keep note of include a loopy
neck, improper grasp, sucking motion, or eye con-
tact. The motherly instinct is extremely strong so
it’s important for mothers to be intuitive and alert.
Parents whose first born has a disability tend to
find intervention a lot later since they don’t have
another child whose development can be used as
a comparison. Dr. Uzma Raheem points out that,
“In our highly competitive world, parents expect
each child to outperform the other, without really
looking at the uniqueness and exceptional factor
in each child. Not all children are the same. Few
parents understand this”.
Speech Therapy:
Janet Jason Parghesi is a speech language
pathologist at Hope Centre. She works with chil-
dren of different age groups and disorders - includ-
ing Down Syndrome, Cerebral Palsy, mental retar-
dation and Autism - which affect the speech and
language. According to Ms. Janet, “The language
age of the children tends to be slower than their
actual chronological age. I try to bring them as
close to their age appropriate language skills as
possible.”
“Gadgets, computers and TV have caused a dearth
in the interaction of children with people even
though there is an acquisition of language skills.”
Ms. Janet recommends parents to spend time
practising these skills with their children through
interactive activities like talking, reading and col-
ouring. Children also acquire language from their
parents and how they interact with each other.
“Provide the best possible environment that en-
riches their language skills. Use the right words.”
Figure 2: Janet Jason
Baking Cupcakes at Hope:
Farhana Yasmin Alam works with children to bake
cupcakes. The activity provides a basic medium
where they can practise their physiotherapy les-
sons. Whisking the batter helps develop motor
skills and muscles, the different scents help with
their sensory skills, variety of textures improve
cognitive skills and identification of ingredients
expands their knowledge of the world around
them.
7
Hope Centre is an institute with immense potential which is already making positive
change and difference in the lives of children with special needs. If you fear your child
may need special attention, or would like to get your child assessed contact:
8
The Psychology Club held an Art Therapy event on Wednesday, 12th November 2014 and was open for
students of all majors to attend. The lecture was conducted by Ms Alia AlShaer who is currently working in
the ACT Centre. The event was organized by Salwa Bashammakh, the head of the psychology club, and
her team. The event was very interesting with an activity where students had to scribble for half a minute
and Ms Alia would show how their personalities or what they were dealing with was being depicted
through their art. After the lecture she stayed back for a short period of time to answer any questions and
queries the students had.
The lecture started off by saying that the first psychotherapist to use art therapy was Margaret Naum-
berg, who followed and believed in Freud’s theories. She realized that peoples repressed memories do
come out through their art work. Art therapy has to do with counseling and helping children, adolescents,
adults and the elderly. These people could have mental disorders, physical disabilities, special needs (such
as patients suffering from Autism), medical illnesses such as Cancer, trauma or they could simply be doing
it for self-exploration.
In the lecture, Ms Alia explained to the students the stages of her sessions with her patients; the first ses-
sion being the Intake session. This is when all information of the patient is gathered to see and observe all
aspects of the patient and to try to identify the problem(s). Choice of expression and verbal and body lan-
guage are observed for any hints, and even the material used or how the artist (the client) chooses to ex-
press his/her artwork are also observed. Contrary to popular belief the art therapist does not analyse the
artwork. Rather, their objective is to ask the client/ patient what they see and feel in their artwork, and
work from there.
Art
Therapy
Report
Jawaria Ali Khan http://www.urban-wellness.ca/
9
Don’t we all? How many times have we gone to
the mall with no specific purpose or a certain thing
to buy in mind? Even if we do have a reason, how
many stops do we take until we reach that pur-
pose? And by the time we’ reached it we have
probably run out of money. What is it that makes
us lose our minds when we go shopping??
The first thing we say when we see that fabulous
shiny useless item is “I need this”. We don’t; we
just think we do. Reasons are usually “It’s trendy”,
“it looks fun”, “So that I don't envy people who do
have it” (convincing reason, I must say) but the
ultimate answer is “Because I want it, and I can
buy it”. The reasons may differ but it’s usually just
the simple case of having money you want to
spend. Oh, and let’s not forget “people already
saw that on me, I need a new one”. All these fac-
tors create compulsive buyers. Take a peek in your
closet, ladies. Do you see the amount of items that
still have their price tags on them? Do we really
need 15 pairs of black leggings, 5 black high heels,
and millions of tank tops—and really girls, if we
actually used the amount of makeup we buy, we’d
look like Barbies, and not in a good way.
Fixing this issue will start once we know the
difference between “I need” and “I want”. If two
weeks pass and you don't use it, you don't really
need it; you don't need to store it either. A smart
way to stop this habit is not buying a new item un-
less you get rid of an old one. So learn to let go
ladies; make space for the new stuff!
Ms. Alia has spent six years in the United States of America as a
lecturer in George Washington University, where she worked with
kids who have cancer and people with amputated limbs. She has
completed her Bachelor’s degree from the University of Tampa
with a double major in Psychology and Art. Finding a connection
in both of her subjects of preference, she did her Masters Degree
in Art Therapy. She has also done internships and has work expe-
rience in various places such as the Psychiatric ward of the
Georgetown University Hospital Partial Day Program, Tampa Gen-
eral Hospital Pediatric Centre, F.A.C.E (Florida’s Autistic Centre of
Excellence) and the Child Abuse Council.
The lecture proved to be very informational and interesting to the students, and especially helpful to all
psychology students. It was also very eye opening as some of the cases narrated by Ms Alia were truly
astounding. The event ended in general applause. It was a good milestone achieved by the Psychology
Club.
Their objective is to
ask the client/ patient
what they see and
feel in their artwork,
and work from there.
Do We Hoard?
Haya S. Alakel
www.megaquicksale.co.uk
10
Small Changes Lead to Big Results
Reemaz Hetaimish
There are many misconceptions when it comes to
healthy eating that prevent people from achieving
their health goals.
Many think that reaching their health goals re-
quires huge changes in their lifestyle, so they end
up giving up. Many believe that healthy means
deprivation and boring, tasteless food.
That is never the case!
What often is overlooked is the fact that small
changes lead to big results.
Change requires a first step, and the first and es-
sential step towards achieving any health goal is
drinking plenty of water. I have noticed a huge
difference after making the decision to keep track
of how much I am drinking everyday. Now tracking
is no longer needed and drinking enough water
has become a habit.
What makes change easier is surrounding our-
selves with people who we share common goals
with. It is true that this is not easy, but social me-
dia has made this possible.
I started following people on Instagram and sub-
scribing to blogs, and I have slowly started to
change for the better.
I have come to realize that deprivation is never the
solution; there are always healthier alternatives.
Another important step towards achieving health
goals is reading food labels. You don’t have to
spend so much time reading labels, but here are
three tips on when to avoid buying a product:
If the first ingredient in a product is sugar
If the list of ingredients includes more than
two or three names that you cannot pro-
nounce
If the list of ingredients is long
I believe taking small steps towards improving
your health will help replace bad eating habits
with healthier ones. If you just give your body the
attention, you will soon discover what works best
for your body. www.middlesbrough.gov.uk
www.goodhealthword.com/
11
So you started university and you are prepared to tackle the challenges, meet acquaintances and indulge
in a variety of engrossing topics. But the problem is, you might not be, you are supposed to; however, you
are melancholic and depressed. No worries, you are not an anomaly. I am too and many other students.
So I hereby will try to share some tips to alleviate the pain and ignite you to participate, socialize more,
have a great academic semester and become an active student.
Tips for Battling Depression
Alyah S. Al Faqeeh
Talk to a person you trust: I cannot emphasize how substantially this will as-sist you. Sharing your negative emotions and espe-cially when you are inclined to harm yourself can help you immensely. Your friends and family are there to help. Do not feel shunned by them and allow them to aid you. This also can include uni-versity's counsellor.
Seek a professional help: While friends and family can be a marvelous source of relief, at times, a professional help is re-quired. A therapist can guide you through your depression and help you. It might cause you ap-
prehension but someone who is qualified to ob-jectively help you can put things in perspectives.
Exercise: It might sound trite but a healthy mind is in a healthy body. Many scientific studies have demon-strated how exercising decreases depression lev-els dramatically. Also, many depression patients have been recommended by their therapist to be-come more active physically. A great activity for depression patients is yoga. Indeed, it reduces anxiety and depression significantly. Try to have a regular routine and try to stick to it. So hit Effat's gym and enjoy it.
www.eharmony.com
12
Be occupied: Having a hectic schedule at odds with what you think can do you wonders. So, concentrate on your university's work and engage in the extracurricular activities.In addition, try as hard as you can to be disciplined and follow a an agenda. Prioritizing and planing work can help you in keeping up with your schedule. By being occupied, you will discover in
retrospect that you circumvented depressive thoughts.
Eliminate the risks: In case of self-harm, eliminate the risk resources such as pills, sharp tools out of your reach. Inform a relative or a close friend so they can consistently observe you.
Always remember, you are never alone! Do not be ashamed about your depression but do not allow it to cripple you and deprive you the great university's experience.
Growing up, at some point or the other, we fell in love with Snow White. It might have been in illustrated
books of fairy tales or the Disney movies. Children today love and admire Snow White just as much.
Snow White is a beautiful princess with rosy cheeks, charming wide black eyes and strawberry colored
lips. Her face is like that of an angel. In addition, she is kind to the seven dwarfs and animals, generous,
helpful and displays a pure, loving heart. Snow White exemplifies physical and inner beauty and maybe
we love her because of her outer beauty or because of her character. Both types of beauty share many
similarities and differences, and all women display both kinds of beauty in their own way.
Inner beauty and physical beauty make each woman special and unique. Marilyn Monroe was beautiful
and attractive. She was admired for her physical beauty which made her unique. Oprah Winfrey has a
beautiful soul and an energy to help others that makes her distinctive and special. This does not mean
that Monroe was not beautiful inside or that Oprah lacks in physical beauty.
Beauty Inside and Out
Nada Edrees
www.inspirefirst.com
13
RAIN EXPERIENCES
Inner beauty as well as physical beauty both can be a reason that makes you fall in love .You can fall in
love with a magical charm you feel when you sink deep down in the beauty of the eyes, and you can fall in
love with a pure heart that carries you like a rescue ship when life gets harder.
However, physical beauty differs from the internal beauty. Physical
beauty is a temporary beauty. The beautiful long black hair that
looks like a dark night and shines on a beautiful angelic face, a few
years later, will be grey hair. On the contrary, internal beauty stays
with you until your last breath. A beautiful soul will never give up
spreading hope, and big hearts will never stop carrying others
pains, keeping all its doors open for those who need it. It's a beau-
ty that’s stays forever. Physical beauty doesn't affect others posi-
tively or negatively; it is a beauty that belongs to the beautiful person itself. Unlike internal beauty, this
beauty has a strong power to make miracles all around. The inner beauty guides you to be wise, makes
you light up life’s dark paths with hope and optimism, and spread happiness wherever this beautiful per-
son is around.
Finally, beauty is all around us. You can see it when the breeze moves the yellow flowers and they dance
like beautiful ballerinas, you see it in the beautiful girl who has rosy cheeks and brown bright curls, in the
woman who makes all the faces around her smile with her kindness. Beauty is everywhere, but it’s the
beauty in us that counts the most. You don’t need to have the most perfect hair or skin, and you don’t
need the most perfect figure either. Inner beauty spreads on the outside. It will shine in your eyes and
glow in your cheeks. It will reflect in your words and display in your body language. Let it grow.
“Beauty is every-
where, but it’s the
beauty in us that
counts the most. “
www.gopixpic.com
14
Have you ever been swallowed up by a storm? I
had never imagined myself in such a situation. I
was on my way back home and we were waiting
for the traffic light to turn green, when all of a
sudden the view in front of us went foggy and we
could only see papers and bags flying over. The
sky was yellow and the rain just kept falling heav-
ily; it was as if someone was hitting the car re-
peatedly. Even though I arrived a bit late, I am
glad that it was a safe ride.
-Leena Yaseen
Yesterday was my cousin's engagement party, it
was all perfect until it suddenly started to rain
heavily. The bride was on her way home and
when she arrived she was all wet from the rain
and all her hair and makeup was ruined. Also, the
groom got stuck in the flooded streets of rain
and the party was cancelled after all the arrange-
ments.
-Roba Al Toukhi
Sara Binzagr
I was in an open area restaurant and as soon as
the food arrived it started raining cats and dogs!
We quickly left the food untouched and started
heading downstairs. Everyone was terrified be-
cause the rain was so heavy and the thunder was
so loud. We quickly went into the car and started
heading home. The driver was driving slowly be-
cause the windows were so blurry and the vision
was very limited! Finally, we arrived home safely
and our parents were so relieved to see us.
-Ghazal J Ajeeb
I was on the way back from university and I got
stuck in the rain for 2 hours. It was very scary as
the sun faded away and the street lights began to
turn on. It was 2 o'clock but it felt like 6 o'clock at
night. After staying for many hours in traffic, I came
home and found water falling from the roof to the
basement: we had Niagara Falls in the middle of
the house. I saw my 3 year old sister playing with
the water around her legs, singing, "rain rain go
away .... "; it was so funny I forgot the horrible ex-
perience and started video tapping her and sharing
the video on social media.
-Sara Alamoudi
15
I am an Instructor at the Language Acade-
my at Effat. I have spent the last 18 years
as a principal in the Colorado Public
School System and last year I was the
principal at Jeddah International School in
the Khaledeyah District. I lived in Saudia
City and made many friends there. Every
Friday, I will go back there to meet my
friends for dinner and "Movie Night".
On Friday, we had Harry Potter Night and we were in the middle of the movie when the storm began.
However, we thought the thunder was coming from the movie. My friend has a home theater system and
we couldn't tell the difference until we saw the lightning. My other friend and I rode a scooter from his
house and decided that perhaps we should leave before the rain started.
The scooter was in the driveway; we hopped on, started it up; then the rain came down hard and fast. As
soon as we pulled out of the driveway, we heard the most horrible crash, like something coming from be-
hind us. But we couldn't turn around. We just kept going.
The next day, out friend sent us this picture. The tree in his front yard, had uprooted in the rain and had
fallen right where the scooter had been parked. Had we waited one more minute…
-Annette Zambrano
On Friday night, family gathering day, we were
starting to have fun. It was unexpected to have a
long, scary night. The thunder sounds started
getting louder and louder. All my aunts went
home, except one. Her house was in South Jed-
dah. My mom insisted she stay the night with us.
We shut down all electricity. Our walls in the liv-
ing room have big windows. The lightning display
and thunder sounds were totally gorgeous and
we felt like we were in horror movie. We stayed
awake all night. The most amazing part was the
stories circle we did. My mom and aunt were
talking about their teenage experiences. We had
a long beautiful night. Those pictures are taken
during that night.
-Maha Obaidallah Al Ghamdi Dania A Suroor
16
I was present in the campus when it rained on
Sunday, 16th November. The air was very fusty
the whole morning. My friend and I were waiting
eagerly for the rain after finishing our classes. We
were walking along when suddenly wind started
to blow vigorously. My friend got very scared and
she ran inside the building. All the fences broke
and it seemed like nature was very angry. After a
while it started to rain heavily. I was all wet and
extremely happy. About 15 minutes later, a lady
came and told me to come inside the building.
Although I was a little sad, I still could smell that
amazing damp smell of earth. I LOVE rain and
that day was one of the best days of my life in
Saudi Arabia.
-Alsaffath M Faruq
Picture by Sandra Dirksen
Dania A Suroor
Kgnooz J Ajeeb
Lojain F AlJabre
Maysam A. Abdusuliman
17
Rain has always been a delightful scene for me. Whenever its smell fills the air right before it falls, a smile
is naturally drawn on my face and my mood shifts to joy. Yesterday was the first time rain caused me oth-
er emotions that it normally does. This time I was scared.
I slept after midnight, although I almost didn’t out of excitement. I was watching the lightning all night
long. Normally such displays of sudden nature changes scare some people; I on the other hand was happy
to witness such a great event of nature. One minute the sky was clear and quiet; the next it was filled with
flashes like the whole earth was being photographed by one giant camera. I stood on the window watch-
ing and saying Subhan Allah.
What I didn’t expect was to wake up scared after such an interesting cheerful night (at least that what it
was for me). I deliberately moved my bed near the window so I could hear the rain and catch it when it
dropped. That wasn’t a smart move on my part. The sudden terrifying sound of thunder made me jump
out of sleep. It wasn’t a normal wake-up experience for me. I was so frightened by the sound, it was like
the sky was breaking and crashing. It lasted a long time for someone living in the dorms away from her
family. I was in need for someone to reassure me, but unfortunately my parents were not around to hold
my hand and make me feel safe.
Thank Allah; the rain wasn’t too late in coming. As it started to fall, the thunder got softer and I got calm-er. Alhamdulillah, it came and went without damage and Alhamdulillah, for the blessing of the rain visiting our city. -Safa Alofi
Haneen Nassier
18
Song Artist Album Album Art Quote
You’re So Dark Arctic Mon-keys
AM
“You got your H.P. Lovecraft Your Edgar Allan Poe
You got your unkind of ravens And your murder of crows”
Islands The XX XX
Spend my nights and days before Searching the world for what's right
here
Underneath and unexplored Islands and cities I have looked
ETHOS
MUSIC
"Music is lots of sound waves coming towards us in a completely chaotic manner, and somehow our brain receives that as something beautiful"
~Matt Bellamy, frontman of Muse
Zehra Ali
19
Song Artist Album Album Art Quote
My Mistakes Were Made For You
The Last Shadow Puppets
The Age of The Under-statement
About as subtle as an earthquake, I know, My mistakes were made for you. And in the backroom of a bad dream, she came, And whisked me away, enthused.
Resistance Muse The Re-sistance
“If we live a life in fear I'll wait a thousand years Just to see you smile again Kill your prayers for love and peace You'll wake the thought police We can't hide the truth inside”
Music When The Lights Go Out
The Liber-tines
The Liber-tines
“Is it cruel or kind not to speak my mind And to lie to you rather than hurt you?”
I Wanna Get Better
Bleachers Strange De-sire
I chase that feeling Of an eighteen year old who didn't know what loss was Now I'm a stranger And I miss the days of a life still permanent Mourn the years before I got carried away
Tesselate Alt J An Awesome Wave
“Bite chunks out of me You're a shark and I'm swimming. My heart still thumps as I bleed. And all your friends come sniffing.”
River Lights The Listening
“Take me river, carry me far. Lead me river, like a mother. Take me over to some other unknown. Put me in the undertow.”
20
E-books versus Paper Books and the Future of Books 22
Book Reviews 24
Art Reviews 28
The Mad Road 33
Lost in Music 33
The Vintage Typewriter 34
WAR 35
Possessed 36
She Bid Him Farewell 37
Keeping the Legend Alive 38
LITERATURE
21
With the digital era come digital media and the
dawn of downloadable movies, games and e-
books. The advent of e-books in particular has
brought up speculations of the gradual irrele-
vance of paper books in the years to come. The e-
books or paper books question is likely on the
mind of our Ethos readers; we therefore present
to you an article outlining the advantages and
disadvantages of each with a discussion of what
the future holds in store for both.
E-books are easy to obtain and are often cheaper
than their paper equivalents. You can get a hold
of one starting at our very own Effat library web-
site, where there are plenty of reference books to
choose from. You can also find e-books at online
stores such as Amazon (which sells them specifi-
cally for its Kindle device), as well as the countless
websites offering legally free books under public
domain, such as Gutenberg.org or Many-
books.net. The availability of e-books is of great
convenience, as many books are not sold here
and shipping can get very expensive. Other fea-
tures that make e-books advantageous
include instant word lookup, portabil-
ity, and the fact that no matter how
many books you have in your tablet, its
weight and volume remain absolutely
constant, whereas your newly bought
stack of books will probably be need-
ing a new shelf.
Despite all of the above, paper books manage to
win us over through sheer sentiment, because
when you think of a book you think of the smell,
you think of the touch, the feel, the dog-eared
corners and the hand written note on the inside
cover of a book passed on through generations.
Whereas a paper book can be resold or given
away, the same cannot be said of an e-book.
E-books versus Paper Books and the Future of Books
Lama Niyazi
“When you think of a book you think of the
smell, you think of the touch, the feel, the
dog-eared corners and the hand written note
on the inside cover of a book passed on
through generations.”
www.ala.org
22
I believe that if we were to all suddenly turn our
backs on paper books and join the e-book enter-
prise, we would be breaking a link in history and
mourning the loss of a rich heritage. You cannot
pass an e-book onto your children and grandchil-
dren. In fact, you cannot even really ‘own’ an e-
book. For a book that I absolutely love, physical
possession of that book is very important to me.
But would mere sentiment
be enough to sustain the
paper-book industry? It is a
horrible thought to think
that bookstores may vanish
out of existence, along with
the quiet afternoons spent
roaming through the
shelves of a bookstore, flip-
ping through the pages of book after book. But is
that what the future holds for us? Of course not!
Even if I were suggesting that the whole e-books
versus paper books dispute was in essence about
practicality versus sentimentality, the pure senti-
ment involved with paper books would pull them
through, and I can confidently say that paper
books would never go obsolete; but even so, I do
not believe that the argument for paper books is
based on sentimentality! Paper books are very
practical!
Many researchers have consistently found that
for reading that requires sustained attention, pa-
per books win all the way. The main issue with e-
books in this case is their lack of tangibility,
which, according to neuroscientists, is an im-
portant means through which we map out con-
cepts and ideas. In other words, the fact that you
can touch a book, and feel your way through the
pages, and know exactly where you are in the
book through the contrasting thicknesses of each
side of the it where the binding parts—all of
this—helps our mind in mapping out the “terrain”
of what we are reading. An e-book does not have
such navigational indicators. For this reason, e-
book creators try to simulate the paper book ex-
perience in their e-book readers with progress
bars, page flipping animations, and similar fea-
tures. Besides this, research
has found that the state of
mind with which people ap-
proach e-books is usually
less conducive to learning
than it is with paper books.
Compound this with the
constant distractions coming
from a multipurpose device
like an IPad, and reading on
one might not seem like such a good idea. In addi-
tion to this advantage, which is more specifically
directed at books that require intensive reading
such as college textbooks, paper books also have
the advantage of not vanishing out of your library
because of software malfunction or technology
obsolescence. This is a very real possibility in the
case of e-books and can be, as I can imagine, very
frustrating.
Another interesting point that anonymous people
online contributed to a similar discussion is the
idea that “bookshelves show off where our minds
have traveled”. The books on display in a home
are a source of pride for its owner and a frequent
source of conversation at gatherings. The same
cannot be said of an e-book collection concealed
within the memory storage of a device.
“Many researchers have
consistently found that for
reading that requires sus-
tained attention, paper
books win all the way.”
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Although the argument may seem to be polarized
at times, I think the right conclusion to draw out
of all of this would be that there is room for the
both of e-books and paper books in the 21st cen-
tury. I personally try to acquire a physical copy of
textbooks and books that really matter to me,
and for routine books, an e-book will do the job
just fine. As the article titled “Why the Smart
Reading Device of the Future May be … Paper”, in
Wired says:
“Maybe it’s time to start thinking of paper and
screens another way; not as old technology and
its inevitable replacement, but as different and
complementary interfaces, each stimulating par-
ticular modes of thinking.”
And I very much agree.
BOOK REVIEWS
ajgpr.com/
wallwiz.com
24
Does My Head Look Big In This? Book Review
Sumayya A Toonsi
Lying there on the shelf, this book always had
me fighting with myself as I was really inter-
ested in it when I first saw my sister reading it;
but my English was not good at the time.
Fighting the urge day by day, one day I decid-
ed to read it and I am glad I did! This book
takes you on a journey with the main charac-
ter Amal. Living in Melbourne, Amal is just
your ordinary high school teenager; she has
got her friends and she likes a boy at school.
Even taking the facts that she is an Arab and a
Muslim into consideration does not make her
any different. She does not wear a headscarf
or pray - not at all! However, things start to
change when she gets into a debate about the
Hijab and her Muslim friends encourage her
to take one step closer to Islam. As Amal final-
ly musters up the courage to cover and to
take her prayers seriously, people also start to
change their attitudes towards her.
The way the story is told and the way you live
the conflicts and struggles with Amal is just
exceptional. She is pretty close to any Muslim
girl who is trying to live life to the fullest but still clutches her faith. The author writes as she describes
Amal’s feelings: “And it’s when I’m standing there this morning, in my PJs and a Hijab, next to my mum
and my dad, kneeling before God, that I feel a strange sense of calm. I feel like nothing can hurt me, and
nothing else matters”.
It is pretty inspiring how she starts to learn little by little how to defend her decision, choices and her reli-
gion. It’s amazing to see a fiction book that speaks for young girls in Amal’s situation. This is not the type
of book which feeds you the ideas of the author; it is magical, funny and even romantic. Does My Head
Look Big in This? gives you the spark to fire the courage inside of you to start your own journey which is
full of hardships yet rewarding!
25
Books That Will Change
Your Life Forever
Razan Almas
A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle “Stop Searching for happiness and you’ll realize where it is - in those moments and feelings that you can’t put into words.” “Life is the dancer and you are the dance.” In modern days, we are living in a fast paced era where we want too much, we demand all the time and we think to the point where we forget to live in the present and cherish simply “being”. We obsess about the opinions of others, how they per-ceive us, and this makes us seek their happiness and approval. We should actually be seeking our own approval and happiness but we tend to compare ourselves with others to either make ourselves feel better about who we are or worse about who we are. We continue to tell ourselves “I am not good enough”. This book has given its readers the confidence boost and self-assurance they need in order to conquer their worries, obses-sions and anxieties. By reading this book you will start to live the life you believe you deserve based on your standards and dreams, letting go of everything that has been imposed on you on how you should define yourself. Another interesting and recommended book by Eckhart Tolle is Stillness Speaks.
www.tumblr.com
26
Communication: Your Key to Success by
Shirley Taylor & Alison Lester
What this society and most students lack is the ability of basic communication skills. The ability to communi-cate and have interpersonal skills and communication etiquette play a significant factor in creating good rela-tionships. It is also essential when you are working in collaboration with coworkers. Those students who wish to venture into the working environment must have good communication skills since this can determine your success or failure. You also need a good grip on these skills for daily activities and personal relation-ships. This book will help you overcome your communication challenges, increase your assertiveness and it will help you communicate effectively across cultures.
Warrior Of The Light by Paulo Coelho “Warriors of light are not perfect. Their beauty lies in accepting this fact and still desiring to grow and to learn.” This book by Paulo Coelho is one of my personal favor-ites, especially for the times when I am feeling down about life. This book consist of motivational and philo-sophical stories which are delivered to readers as a manual in order to inspire them to reach their full po-tential and desires, while embracing the uncertainty that life offers us. In this book Paulo Coelho enables his readers to release the warrior of light in order to seek the path of becoming the person they want to be, by acquiring their desired future and life. “The warrior knows that he is free to choose his de-sires, and he makes these decisions with courage, de-tachment, and sometimes with just a touch of mad-ness.”
27
The Five People You Meet in Heaven by Mitch Albom
“Sometimes when you sacrifice something precious, you're not really losing it. You're just passing it on to someone else.” The ideas in this fiction book are beautiful. Everyone goes through a time when they harbor a sense of irrelevancy, a sense of not feeling important. People in such moments tend to think they are not contributing anything to life. This book talks about the life of 83 year old Eddie; a lonely war veteran, who works in an amusement park as a maintenance man. The book is situated in Eddie’s afterlife where he meets five peo-ple from his earthly life. They help him make sense of his life. The idea of this book is to teach people to leave a legacy of kindness and compassion. Whether it is in small gestures or a simple smile, you will never know who you have affected. Every small gesture counts, and you don’t need to change the world to feel important, but you can alter a second of a per-son’s life that will live on in that friend, family member, or even a stranger’s heart.
ART REVIEWS
28
A Rebirth of an Old Master of Arts
Mashael Zidan
Jos van Riswick is a Dutch Still-life painter from Netherlands. His painting videos are very popular on YouTube. He makes free videos for art tutoring - one of the reasons that turned my interest from Surrealism into Realism.
Early in his life, Riswick studied phys-ics and became a physicist. Although he discovered art after spending many years with science, he doesn’t regret it because physics fed his artis-tic view of subjects and figures.
According to his website, he has a Masters degree in Physics from Uni-versity of Nijmegen, a PhD from Eind-
hoven University of Technology and a preparatory year education from Arnhem Academy of Arts.
His style of painting may seem very unique to people outside Netherlands, since the Dutch were the first who took up the still-life approach and painting on boards, compressed wood, also known as parti-cle board.
He paints very simple subjects - fruits and vegetables. Sometimes, he chooses to surprise the viewer with a vivid eye-catching subject. These subjects are always on a wooden old shelf, or on the surface of a table.
Through watching his videos, we can con-clude that he follows alla prima approach - wet-on-wet painting used by oil painting. This approach means that the artist is taking advantages of oils features and trying to fin-ish the painting completely before the paints dry out- it may costs the painter a sleepless night.
As a viewer, I place Riswick above all paint-ers that I adore. His paintings will always be the apple of my eyes where I can happily lose myself through the details and colors. I feel so blessed to know such a contemporary artist, though not very well, who gave the life to his paintings through his fine touches.
29
Here are some tips he gave me a few years ago to help approach still life paintings:
“Try to paint a lot! AS MUCH AS YOU CAN!
Try painting on wood (MDF board or Masonite)
Use small brushes for fine touches.
Use a paint roller to apply the gesso. It gives it some texture.”
He also has some drawings and paintings of fig-
ures. If you are interested go and check his web-
site http://www.josvanriswick.com/ or you can
follow him on Facebook, Youtube or Instagram
Bec Winnel is an accomplished Australian illustrator and artist. She is a traditional artist; she uses paper and pencils to transfer her creativity. Winnel is represented by Thinkspace Gallery in Culver City US, a member of PRISMA Artist Collective and an advocate with Ele-ment Eden. Her dream was to be a full time artist; luck-ily for her she achieved that dream two years ago.
The reason why this artist had become so popular in social media and art world in general is because her work is outstanding. She draws realistic drawings with pretty pastel colors. She has been an inspiration for a lot of beginner artists around the world. She gives live ses-sions to teach people the steps of her drawings. She had been published in Australia and all over the world as well.
Once in one of her interviews she was asked What are your words of wisdom? “Be a good listener.” She said. Her creativity is all over the world, encouraging young artist to develop and improve knowing they could have a bright future as she has.
Artist Focus By Lutfiyyah W AlJudibi Bec Winnel
30
This is her statement about her work “I enjoy creating delicate, soft and detailed portraits of women. Through my portraits, I hope to contribute to society with beautiful and positive imagery of women, to hopefully remind us that women are beautiful, loving, mysterious creatures with an abundant amount of nurturing to offer. My art is a visual celebration of femininity and freedom of self expres-sion, also an expression of my journey through womanhood.”
Let’s hope that all artist achieve their dreams and goals. It is only done by working hard, practicing and not giving up. Nothing could come in one night, but as they say, a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.
To view more creative works or to purchase art by Bec Winnel visit her website
http://www.becwinnel.com/
Social Media: http://instagram.com/becwinnel , https://twitter.com/becwinnel , http://becwinnel.tumblr.com/
Memory of The Heart
Aram Al Shareef
At 1937 the sensitive artist Frida Kahlo with her oil colors, was able to create a painting full of emotions
of pain, heartbreak, and longing for a happier memory.
First you can clearly notice that the center of this painting is a self-portrait of Frida herself, which explain
that this painting is an expression of what she is going through, in other words – it is her story.
The drawing of herself in front of the gloomy sky shouts sadness, as the image of her face is covered with
tears. An arrow, or a long stick that goes through her heart creates a big hole. This arrow represents
deep pain felt in her heart, and the hole repents the lost parts of her heart.
31
Strangely she has no hands, which declares her hopeless
self. Instead, an arm is coming from the dress of a little
girl behind her. This hand can't reach Frida and this
could represent her longing for older memories, of a
time when things were much simpler.
In reverse, an arm is extending from a traditional Mexi-
can dress standing next to her, which represents the
present day. This arm is grabbing her, as thought Frida
can't escape her painful reality. Each foot of hers is
standing on different sides – land and water. The foot
on the land represent stability, but the other foot is in
the water and portrays her confusion or dilemma.
Around her foot on the sea there is a little sailboat,
which explains her wish to escape her painful reality.
The giant heart laying on the ground with the blood
flooding out of the arteries shows extreme sadness and
the draining of life.
Frida expresses her pain through her colors, paint brush-
es, and canvas. Using art was probably the best way to
overcome her deep sadness.
JOURNALS &
POETRY
32
The Mad Road Hadel A Algarni
Never thought the road back home held so many secrets, deceiving features, and dangers. It is a mad
road. We get inside the car by noon hoping for a pleasant ride. The car starts trudging along the chal-
lenging streets. Streets that can deceive you by their smooth looks and fascinating features when we are
actually about to fool ourselves and fall in the trap of discomfort.
Old buildings pass by me looking like they are screaming for their lives and begging for mercy. We take a
turn and end up in an argument of vehicles that keep on yelling and yelling at each other. We find a way
to an open path where trees are standing elegantly. All vehicles are searching for an escape to be able
to rest after a long dreadful day.
The more time passes to reach home the more anxious I become. Sun, heat, and huger are the suffer-
ings we face throughout our journey. We take another turn where the sun directs its light on us making
us wish for better way out of this mad road. We keep moving on until I feel a drench of ease.
I see it! I see the ending of our path. Our journey is coming to an end. It might seem like a happy ending
road but not at all, it is just the thought of being so close to home that makes it a happy ending road.
There it is, a magnificent classical house with dreamy flowers surrounding it. We are finally home.
Lost in Music Haya A Al-Shakhi
Every day I take a journey. It’s brief, and to a place that's not very exciting but it’s a journey nonetheless.
It starts with the boy at the gate of the apartment building I live in. While he waits for the bus to take him
to school he feeds the stray cats in the neighborhood. I often wonder why does he feed them? Did some-
one teach him to be kind to animals, or has he always been like that?
I continue through the crowded streets of Jeddah. I look at the cars surrounding me and the people in-
side them. Every single one of them is different - some are dancing to loud music in their seats, some are
sleeping, some are like me looking round and observing everything around them, and some are lost in the
devices they hold.
33
I think about how even though every single one of us is coming from a different place, and is going to a
different place, for this brief moment we are all here together. Here the paths of our different journeys
have intersected.
I reach my destination, and I find the security lady with her cute little baby girl. I always take time to say
hello to them. After that I head inside to the cafeteria where the kitchen and counter ladies are in a
heated argument about something that happened the previous night. Around me are sleepy students
with headphones in their ears and coffee in their hands, some try to fix their hair or make up before go-
ing to class and officially starting the day. Others are too tired to care about what they look like and
they prefer to spend these last few quiet moments with their eyes closed - lost in the music they are
listening to.
A Vintage Typewriter
Lama Jamjoom
A Vintage typewriter living through this
century with many differences next to
new printers. Saudi manufactured. Kept
in Jeddah in a safe house, with four
other
typewriters of the same brand. I was
thcreated in 1996 and I am living my 19
year
today. They call me ‘Lama’ - my owner
named me. White colored with light
brown buttons. I have a pretty nice
voice, which people say is my mark.
At first I am hard to deal with until you
get used to me. Actually until I get used
to the fingers upon me. It is impossible
to delete anything written, as
sentences and events always stay
forever. With time mistakes teach me
to write better. As life is always a
group of lessons to all of us, me and
my owner.
Conservative and attached to old
traditions, culture as well as religion. I
am manually used. I need someone to
manage and guide me and write
through my letters. It's my
Owner’s job to make sure I am not lost
between sentences. My owner, I call
her ‘Mom’, takes care of me and
presses hard on my letters, so I can
print them on the paper with a
bold font.
First thought that comes to your mind when I
am mentioned is letters. Because I am always
reading and writing. I am a hard worker. I can
type for hours and days, with no complains. It's
an honor that I live here to deliver my creator’s
message. We are all created for a specific goal,
which is faith and earth building. This is why I
am here! I am a typewriter.
A Vintage Typewriter
Lama Jamjoom
A Vintage typewriter living through this
century with many differences next to
new printers. Saudi manufactured. Kept
in Jeddah in a safe house, with four
other
typewriters of the same brand. I was
thcreated in 1996 and I am living my 19
year
today. They call me ‘Lama’ - my owner
named me. White colored with light
brown buttons. I have a pretty nice
voice, which people say is my mark.
At first I am hard to deal with until you
get used to me. Actually until I get used
to the fingers upon me. It is impossible
to delete anything written, as
sentences and events always stay
forever. With time mistakes teach me
to write better. As life is always a
group of lessons to all of us, me and
my owner.
Conservative and attached to old
traditions, culture as well as religion. I
am manually used. I need someone to
manage and guide me and write
through my letters. It's my
Owner’s job to make sure I am not lost
between sentences. My owner, I call
her ‘Mom’, takes care of me and
presses hard on my letters, so I can
print them on the paper with a
bold font.
First thought that comes to your mind when I
am mentioned is letters. Because I am always
reading and writing. I am a hard worker. I can
type for hours and days, with no complains. It's
an honor that I live here to deliver my creator’s
message. We are all created for a specific goal,
which is faith and earth building. This is why I
am here! I am a typewriter.
34
I have heard of a person being under a spell, a group of people, sometimes, but I have never heard of a whole world being under a spell.
It is really hard for me to fathom how half of the world have the nerve to live while the other half dies.
I have never heard of a catatonic nation.
I have never heard of a world marketing dehumanization.
It is like if we are under a mass hypnosis.
They kill, we keep eating
They torture, we keep dancing
They deprive a child from his childhood, we cheer.
They ban a mother from her motherhood, we just produce tears.
Our ultimate consolation is "oh how poor they are"
Sometimes we become excessively generous and write a song to their once upon a time existence.
We never appreciate the livings and we commemorate the dead with silence.
"when the violence causes silence we must be
mistaken"
Those bodies do not need your songs because your vile melodies won't revive them.
Those homeless children do not need your gifts because they do not have parents to play with.
You cannot give a child with torn off legs a pair of shoes and expect him to be merry !
And do not let me start with nations who feed corpses by sending them food.
Do you know what is more moronic? Sending them money and blathering about it on the news.
What a smart move!
I am angry because I am helpless and all what I can do is to pray.
I am angry because criminals roaming around us while innocents in jail.
I am angry because hematic scenes are the mainstream.
I am angry because nobody is interested.
I am angry because nobody is angry, nobody is enraged.
War Nora Al-Rifai
http://wallpaperswide.com/
35
Dear Americans
We fail to see,
blinded by mediatized misperceptions,
that they, “the other,” are very much like you and me.
Underneath the hijab, abaya, and other cultural dress
Stands a mother, daughter, or sister,
Not an airplane-bombing terrorist.
They hope, pray, dream,
live, love, and learn.
They are not at all how the news makes them seem.
Yes, I am telling you, it’s true.
They even speak English
Truth be told, they speak it better than some of you.
We judge a religion and culture by the fundamentalist few.
Would you want to be judged
by the actions of someone other than you?
Next time you worry about the “Muslim threat”
Stop and talk, you may learn a thing or two
Just may realize that the true terrorist…
Lies within you.
Very Much Like You and Me Michael Bustamante
In late 2014 the National Council on U.S.-Arab Relations
awarded me a Saudi Arabian Exchange Fellowship. As a
fellow, I had the privilege of visiting the capital city of
Riyadh, along with the coastal cities of Dammam and
Jeddah, from December 28, 2014 – January 7, 2015.
Alongside nine other American university students and
five faculty, I explored the oftentimes misunderstood
nation of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia. Our delegation
explored multiple aspects – educational,
political, historical, and cultural - of the Kingdom
through visits to businesses, museums, secondary and
higher education institutions. My experience in Saudi
Arabia influenced my poem entitled, Dear Americans.
36
1.It was a cheerful Monday morning for Nina. She woke up, showered and wore the first thing her eyes fell on. She jogged to class while day dreaming and on the way, slammed right into her roommate Laila. She was an eccentric Arab exchange student. Nina kept going without apologizing while ignor-ing the obscenities being hurled at her. Nothing was going to dampen her spirit today. It was her twen-tieth birthday after all! She bumped into Damien, her annoying twin brother in class. Damien, unlike her, was quite popular with the students. Life was a breeze for him. He had a charming personality and good looks. Nina then proceeded to go through the entire boring routine of attending classes on a Mon-day morning. 1.She was groggy by the time they were over. She had slept through three of her classes and did not even remember how she got to her next class. As she was walking towards the restaurant where she would have her “surprise” party (it was never a surprise for her), she let out a huge sigh when she realized she had promised to wake Laila up. She was heading back to the dorm room when she saw Damien racing towards the boys dorms. He looked really pale and anxious. When she reached her room, she noticed that the door was already open. Her room was a mess and in the middle of all the chaos, lay her friend’s body in a bloodied heap. Nina fainted at the gruesome sight and woke up in the hospital. Her brother stepped out so that the police could question her. By the time she was done, she felt completely numb. This was the worst birthday ever. This day could not get any more worse, but it had already become much worse as Nina had purposefully omitted any information about seeing her brother leaving the girls’ dormitory in a hurry. She was still suspicious and decided to keep quiet until she was sure. She could no longer look at Damien the same way. Now all she felt was fear. She also did not want to lose her brother, her only family since her parents had died in an accident years ago.
Possessed
Afeefah Salim - Winner of the Short Story Contest
Creative Writing Club Short Story Contest
37
Two dreary weeks had passed by. The police investigation was nowhere close to finding the culprit. Nina felt isolated from her other friends. Damien always smiled and talked to her but somehow the smile never reached his ice cold eyes. Damien stopped hanging out with his friends and spent most of his time ‘studying’. Nina could not take it anymore and spilled everything to the police. After a thor-ough investigation, Damien confessed. He was taken into custody along with Nina. After some time the police arrested her. She was confused. Eventually the truth was revealed that it was not Damien who had murdered Laila but Nina. Nina’s parents had not died in an accident; they had been murdered right in front of her eyes. Ever since then, she had developed a multiple identity disorder. She had not been sleeping during her classes; she had actually excused herself from class. When she reached her
dorm room she found Laila going through her stuff and the scene jolted her memory of her parent’s murderers snooping around at her family home. An aggressive personality had taken over and killed Laila to defend itself. Damien found her when he came to the room. He asked her to go back to class and he would clean up the evidence. Damien had been protecting her from herself the entire time. An
uncertain future now awaited her.
The devastating occurrence of her car accident had distorted her reality and her enjoyment, along with her imagination. While she was trying to open her eyes, she glanced at a man who was calling her name louder and louder, attempting to animate her. The place was utterly chaotic, with a thousand flesh sprawling in every single corner; plenty of beds were affordable for the sufferers. She was ex-hausted, hypnotized and too unconscious to even realize what was going on until she had heard the same voice again calling out her name, smoothing her hair while mesmerized by her eyes. A young, kind and gentle man wearing a pale blue suit was looking at her eyes and waiting for a gesture that could allude to her awakening. After much anguished waiting, she started to come to her final realiza-tion that he was basically a doctor.
He was a part of the team who cared for her and examined her pathological state. As time flew by, he was consecutively checking on her and dedicating his time going back and forth around her. She did get used to perpetually seeing him every morning, after passionately waiting for him the previous night. The delight of this seemingly unattainable meeting had transported her to a joyful limbo, a boundless imagination that would only be ceased by her awakening. Whenever he came to visit her, he would smile compassionately, stare at her gently and gladly state how happy he was to see her alive smiling and enjoying life again. She has been brought up in ease recovering tardily after her car acci-dent. He was monotonously rebuilding the crumbled stairs of her squelched hope to persuade her that life will continue to have value after the intolerable reality she was going through. Everything around her went into full speed and life for her back home had been crazy and full. Having the opportunity to finally reconnect with family and friends had been wonderful. Her life was full of summer camps, back-to-back doctor appointments and having her family and friends around her encouraging her to a speedy recovery. Those in her life who had advocated for her were different in terms of agnation and ancestor. Everything else was perpetual except for her; everything was static, either physically or emo-tionally. How disappointing and deplorable it was
She Bid Him Farewell Nadine Hussain - 2nd Place in Short Story Contest
38
when her tribulation and calamity transcended her reverie as she was imperceptibly ended up being
obstructed by desperate feelings that would be always bereft. While she was taking slow, careful and
selective steps toward his heart, he was hopelessly preparing his luggage to leave her faith behind.
She got used to passionately waiting for his call day by day, as her inclination began to gradually unfold. Everything was completely different with his presence, each element in her life was valuable as it was fascinated and decorated by his existence. The way he beautifully cared for her, the way he yearningly waited for her and the way he softly spoke with her. His attempt to erase his belief that life was all about suffering started to succeed. The tedious and extended hours she was spending in the freezing weather had disguised the way she was trying miserably to numb the pain. While days were followed by days, he was still there sympathizing with her, becoming closer and closer as an ephemeral reward. After the time he had revealed only his yearning for her, her reality had been
beautified and transferred to a sea of everlasting expectations. This exposure had erased all her pessimist anticipations, liberating her desolate feelings. The optimistic signs began to wave their boards, luring her to expose what had been repressed inside her.
He was unwarrantedly planning to leave, but her revelation had delayed his departure for a while. When he discovered that she loved him, he did not dare leave, but his obduracy treaded on her emotions, rambling the hands of farewell. Even the language failed her, as his closeness was not what she thought at all. Her desires and wishes suddenly
disappeared and her chaste feelings began to be in a paralytic state. She despairingly found her heart questioning about the time they would find people who will never be changed, even over time. In the beginning, she was the center of his life to then become the refuge of his leisure. In the beginning, he showed off a special care, treating her extraordinarily. It was not too long before he started to retreat, which proved the opposite, she had been sadly mistaking. In the beginning, his feeling and generosity were redundant but in the end, he seemed to be prodigal and reluctant. In the beginning, his yearning, goodness and carefulness had been beautifully demonstrated to later become weaker and rougher. In the beginning, they were totally different, and in the end, they became resemblant by leaving but different in their way of departure.
Keeping the Legend Alive
Fatima Abdullah Haroon - 3rd Place in the Short Story Contest
Every family has secrets that they want to hide. My family was no exception, but they had a darker
way of masking the reality.
The story that I am about to tell you was passed down to my mother by her fading grandmoth-er. That same story was told to me by my mother, when she also counting her last breaths. The story began from a small village in India called Kannauj.
39
In Kannauj it was very common for the rich to build a monuments that would represent their
family’s status, wealth and power. The size and luxury of the monument would determine which
family had more power in the village and on the authorities. My great grandfather, Badar Khan, came
up with a genuine idea to build a huge house that would inhabit my entire family and the generations
to come. The result was an enormous house that resembled the old palaces in India. The house was
called Badar Mahal.
My great grandfather’s dreams backfired pretty soon because every one of my family mem-bers wanted to travel to the cities, thus leaving the three storeys high building empty. My great grandfather passed away on the day that the house was finished being built. He left no will to explain who inherited the house, so everyone came up with a plan to use it as a venue for family reunions or weddings.
40
The first wedding that took place at Badar Mahal was responsible for bring the house to life. It was the time when The Legend was born.
The youngest daughter of Badar Khan was the first one to get married in that house. She dis-
appeared on her wedding day and her sister-in-law, to be, was found dead the next day. The blamed
was solely placed on the house. The superstitious villagers were saying that it was cursed, it ate up the
beautiful bride and poisoned the drinking water in the taps that killed the sister-in-law.
Four years later, another incident followed up. The village’s plumber was sent to the cellar of
Badar Mahal to check for leakages in the pipes that ran through the ceilings. What he came across
there was more than what he came to look for. He found four corpses of little girls, hanging from the
broken pipe. All the girls were found dead due to natural causes. They were also not from the village.
Since my family had the most power in the village, the authorities helped in keeping the media away.
But, that did not stop the villager’s superstition from acting up once again. For them the ‘The Legend’
was still breathing.
The truth was something else, known by my great grandmother and her children. The truth
was simple, Badar Khan’s youngest daughter had eloped with her sister-in-law’s fiancé. The girl could
not handle the shame of her fiancé eloping, so she poisoned herself. The groom’s family agreed to fol-
low up to the rumors and so an agreement was made to never let the truth out. The sons of Badar
Khan took advantage of the villager’s superstitious believes and spread rumors to save the family’s
dignity.
After some years the villagers started to notice that no other incidents were occurring at our
gatherings. They were getting suspicious.
The family came up with an idea to prove to the villagers that the house was still awake. The
sons went to the far away villages and bought dead bodies of little girls who had died recently by nat-
ural causes and then hung them in the cellar.
Till now no one knows the truth, except for a few, who are responsible to hide it. They are still carry-ing out their duties and now I am also in charge of keeping The Legend alive.
41
42
As Word of the Year decisions approach, the
lexicography team at Dictionary.com has
been reflecting on words that have risen in
popularity this year. One such word is selfie.
In case you’re unfamiliar with this
term, selfie means “a photo that one takes of
oneself, typically with a smartphone or
webcam, especially for posting on a social-
networking website.” Though self-portraits
are far from a novel concept, the term selfie is
relatively new, only surfacing about ten years
ago in Australia. It’s a great example of clas-
sic Australian hypocoristics (for example, us-
ing “Aussie” in place of “Australian,” as dis-
cussed in this Language Log post). The pre-
cursor of the selfie is the “MySpace pic,” or a
poorly lit self-portrait, often taken with the
aid of a bathroom mirror and used as a profile
photo on a site like MySpace (remember, this
was before phones had self-facing cameras).
As the ease of access to camera phones and
webcams has increased, and the technology
has improved, the selfie has become a mainstay
on the many screens we interact with on a daily
basis.
In an October 2013 New York Times piece
titled “My Selfie, Myself,” Jenna Wortham re-
flects on the selfie trend, positing that these pho-
tos give a “human element” to primarily text-
based interactions. She continues, saying that at
first she was selfie-shy, but after seeing all her
friends turn the camera on themselves, she fol-
lowed suit. And she was rewarded: “…the occa-
sional selfie appears to nudge some friends who I
haven’t seen in a while to get in touch via e-mail
or text to suggest that we meet for a drink to
catch up.” By the simple act of sharing a photo
of her face on a social-networking site, Wortham
has noticed increased social interaction in real
life.
“If you’re not in the photo, it didn’t hap-
pen.” That’s what John Shahidi, CEO of the
company that released the selfie-only photo-
sharing app Shots of Me (backed by pop-star
Justin Bieber), told TechCrunch this week. This
is not the only app on the market in which selfies
play a large role. There’s also Frontback, which
allows you to take simultaneous photos with
both your front-facing and self-facing cameras to
capture your expression as you look at some-
thing. Even Vine, which originally didn’t sup-
port shooting with the self-facing camera, found
its users gravitated to this option as soon as the
company added it as an update. As Kate Losse
notes in the New Yorker, for social-networking
sites like Instagram and SnapChat “the self is
the message and the selfie is the medium.”
Selfie: A Portrait of a Word
Jane Solomon
(This article is the production of blog.dictionary.com)
43
Since gracing the Internet, the
word selfie has even had its own spinoffs. There’s
the legsie, which is a selfie of legs. There are al-
sobookshelfies, which are selfies taken in front of
one’s bookshelf. Perhaps the most perverse type
of selfie are funeral selfies, which are selfies taken
on the way to, during or after a funeral, natural-
ly. The fact that the word selfie has, in its short
existence, already developed its own subcatego-
ries gives it the potential staying power that lexi-
cographers look for when choosing whether or
not to add a new word to the dictionary.
What do you think of this selfie phenomenon?
The Mistake that Gave Turkey (the Bird) the
Same Name as Turkey (the Nation) Dictionary.com blog
The former center of the Ottoman Empire isn’t ex-actly a breeding ground for the bird that Ameri-cans associate with Thanksgiving. In fact, the tur-key is native to North America, so why do they share the same name?
First, let’s get the facts on the two turkeys. The
word turkey has been used to refer to “land occu-pied by the Turks” since the 1300s and was even used by Chaucer in The Book of the Duchess. The wordTurk is of unknown origin, but it is used in such varying languages as Italian, Arabic, Persian, and many others to refer to people from this re-gion. The land occupied by the Turks was known as the Ottoman Empire from the 1300s until 1922. Following World War I and the fall of the Otto-mans, the republic of Turkey was declared, taking on the name that had long referred to that region. The bird is another story. Meleagris gallopavo is an odd-looking bird that is known for its bare head, wattle, and iridescent plumage.
How are they related? First, we have to get to know another bird: the guinea fowl. This bird bears some resemblance to the then-recently found American bird. Though it is native to eastern Africa, the guinea fowl was imported to Europe through the Ottoman Empire and came to be called the turkey-cock or turkey-hen. When settlers in the New World began to send similar-looking fowl back to Europe, they were mistakenly called turkeys.
44
Every language seems to have radically different names for this bird. The Turkish word is hindi, which literally means “Indian.” The original word in French, coq d’Inde, meant rooster of India, and has since shortened to dinde. These names likely derive from the common misconception that India and the New World were one and the same. In Portuguese, it’s literally a “Peru bird,” and in Malay, it’s called a “Dutch chicken.”
The turkey’s acceptance into the Old World happened quickly. By 1575, the English were enjoying the North American bird at Christ-mas dinner, and Shakespeare talked about it in Henry IV. Turkeys, as we know them, have fared better than their guinea fowl relatives on the in-ternational scene, perhaps explaining why you probably have never heard of guinea fowl until right now.
Many people believe that translation is an easy thing and all you have to do is to change words from the
source text into the equivalent words of a target text. However, this is not true since some phrases, if
translated literaly, would make no sense. Translation is a very complicated process which has to consider
many factors - the genre and the style of the original text, the translator's competence, the timeline allo-
cated to the project and many more. There is a great number of useful translation tips available online
and offline, yet every translator has their own reliable methods and techniques, built on expertise and
time. Here, we summarized the most essential translation tips that can come in handy both for the oral
translation and the written translation.
Translation Tips www.all-translations.com
45
Oral Translation Tips Interpreting - simultaneous, consecutive and whispering - is considered to be the most difficult type of translation. To achieve great results in this domain, an interpreter is expected to (a) have a high level of competence in different areas, (b) understand and critically analyse the translated information, (c) know how to highlight the key elements in the text, (d) constantly enrich their professional vocabulary, etc. The personal features of an interpreter - such as a quick reaction, clear articulation, and bright mind - are also of great importance. The most essential interpretation tips are as follows:
In advance familiarize yourself with the topic of the speech
Note down main points of the speech - it'll help you when interpreting
Translate and clarify the meaning of special terms and key words prior to interpreting
Establish friendly relations between you and the speaker at a consecutive translation
Remember to pronounce words distinctly and clearly
Produce a brief summary at the end of the speech - it helps to clarify conclusions
React quickly and be ready to work under pressure
Enjoy what you are doing ..:-) there won't be a second chance
Transmit a clear message to the target audience
Written Translation Tips Written translation is completely different from any other type of translation. As a rule, there is no need to react instantly - you can take your time, think, choose a better variant, use a dictionary, consult a spe-cialist, etc. Like any other translation it should convey the meaning and the music of the source language. Also, you need to be very accurate with the language and give proper weigh to stylistic features. The most important translation tips are as follows:
Translate meaning not words!
Rely on your wits and savvy - it can prove to be helpful when translating a difficult text
Ask a specialist or a native speaker to proofread your translation so that it sounds natural
Never accept a project which you know is not within your abilities
Skills and translation expertise come with time - remember it!
Language nuances do matter when making a professional translation
A good translation is worth taking time for!
The way documents are organized in one country may not be understood in another
Emulate the original style of the author, be it humorous, wordy, with colloquial or scientific language, etc.
46
SHORT
STORIES
Four Million by o’ Henry
The following short stories were taken from O. Henry’s short story collection The Four Million. Visit www. gutenberg.org for your free ebook version.
47
The policeman on the beat moved up the avenue impressively. The impressiveness was habitual and
not for show, for spectators were few. The time was barely 10 o'clock at night, but chilly gusts of wind
with a taste of rain in them had well nigh de-peopled the streets.
Trying doors as he went, twirling his club with many intricate and artful movements, turning
now and then to cast his watchful eye adown the pacific thoroughfare, the officer, with his stalwart
form and slight swagger, made a fine picture of a guardian of the peace. The vicinity was one that kept
early hours. Now and then you might see the lights of a cigar store or of an all-night lunch counter; but
the majority of the doors belonged to business places that had long since been closed.
When about midway of a certain block the policeman suddenly slowed his walk. In the doorway
of a darkened hardware store a man leaned, with an unlighted cigar in his mouth. As the policeman
walked up to him the man spoke up quickly.
"It's all right, officer," he said, reassuringly. "I'm just waiting for a friend. It's an appointment
made twenty years ago. Sounds a little funny to you, doesn't it? Well, I'll explain if you'd like to make
certain it's all straight. About that long ago there used to be a restaurant where this store stands—'Big
Joe' Brady's restaurant."
"Until five years ago," said the policeman. "It was torn down then."
The man in the doorway struck a match and lit his cigar. The light showed a pale, square-jawed
face with keen eyes, and a little white scar near his right eyebrow. His scarfpin was a large diamond,
oddly set.
"Twenty years ago to-night," said the man, "I dined here at 'Big Joe' Brady's with Jimmy
Wells, my best chum, and the finest chap in the world. He and I were raised here in New York, just
like two brothers, together. I was eighteen and Jimmy was twenty. The next morning I was to start for
the West to make my fortune. You couldn't have dragged Jimmy out of New York; he thought it was
the only place on earth. Well, we agreed that night that we would meet here again exactly twenty
years from that date and time, no matter what our conditions might be or from what distance we
might have to come. We figured that in twenty years each of us ought to have our destiny worked out
and our fortunes made, whatever they were going to be."
"It sounds pretty interesting," said the policeman. "Rather a long time between meets, though,
it seems to me. Haven't you heard from your friend since you left?"
"Well, yes, for a time we corresponded," said the other. "But after a year or two we lost track of
each other. You see, the West is a pretty big proposition, and I kept hustling around over it pretty
lively. But I know Jimmy will meet me here if he's alive, for he always was the truest, stanchest old
chap in the world. He'll never forget. I came a thousand miles to stand in this door to-night, and it's
worth it if my old partner turns up."
The waiting man pulled out a handsome watch, the lids of it set with small diamonds.
"Three minutes to ten," he announced. "It was exactly ten o'clock when we parted here at the
restaurant door."
"Did pretty well out West, didn't you?" asked the policeman.
"You bet! I hope Jimmy has done half as well. He was a kind of plodder, though, good fellow as
he was. I've had to compete with some of the sharpest wits going to get my pile. A man gets in a groove
in New York. It takes the West to put a razor-edge on him."
AFTER TWENTY YEARS
48
The policeman twirled his club and took a step or two.
"I'll be on my way. Hope your friend comes around all right. Going to call time on him sharp?"
"I should say not!" said the other. "I'll give him half an hour at least. If Jimmy is alive on earth
he'll be here by that time. So long, officer."
"Good-night, sir," said the policeman, passing on along his beat, trying doors as he went.
There was now a fine, cold drizzle falling, and the wind had risen from its uncertain puffs into a
steady blow. The few foot passengers astir in that quarter hurried dismally and silently along with coat
collars turned high and pocketed hands. And in the door of the hardware store the man who had come
a thousand miles to fill an appointment, uncertain almost to absurdity, with the friend of his youth,
smoked his cigar and waited.
About twenty minutes he waited, and then a tall man in a long overcoat, with collar turned up
to his ears, hurried across from the opposite side of the street. He went directly to the waiting man.
"Is that you, Bob?" he asked, doubtfully.
"Is that you, Jimmy Wells?" cried the man in the door.
"Bless my heart!" exclaimed the new arrival, grasping both the other's hands with his own. "It's
Bob, sure as fate. I was certain I'd find you here if you were still in existence. Well, well, well!—twenty
years is a long time. The old restaurant's gone, Bob; I wish it had lasted, so we could have had another
dinner there. How has the West treated you, old man?"
"Bully; it has given me everything I asked it for. You've changed lots, Jimmy. I never thought
you were so tall by two or three inches."
"Oh, I grew a bit after I was twenty."
"Doing well in New York, Jimmy?"
"Moderately. I have a position in one of the city departments. Come on, Bob; we'll go around to
a place I know of, and have a good long talk about old times."
The two men started up the street, arm in arm. The man from the West, his egotism enlarged
by success, was beginning to outline the history of his career. The other, submerged in his overcoat,
listened with interest.
At the corner stood a drug store, brilliant with electric lights. When they came into this glare
each of them turned simultaneously to gaze upon the other's face.
The man from the West stopped suddenly and released his arm.
"You're not Jimmy Wells," he snapped. "Twenty years is a long time, but not long enough to
change a man's nose from a Roman to a pug."
"It sometimes changes a good man into a bad one," said the tall man. "You've been under arrest
for ten minutes, 'Silky' Bob. Chicago thinks you may have dropped over our way and wires us she
wants to have a chat with you. Going quietly, are you? That's sensible. Now, before we go on to the
station here's a note I was asked to hand you. You may read it here at the window. It's from Patrol-
man Wells."
The man from the West unfolded the little piece of paper handed him. His hand was steady
when he began to read, but it trembled a little by the time he had finished. The note was rather short.
Bob: I was at the appointed place on time. When you struck the match to light your cigar I saw it was the
face of the man wanted in Chicago. Somehow I couldn't do it myself, so I went around and got a plain
clothes man to do the job.
JIMMY.
49
THE GIFT OF THE MAGI One dollar and eighty-seven cents. That was all. And sixty cents of it was in pennies. Pennies saved
one and two at a time by bulldozing the grocer and the vegetable man and the butcher until one's
cheeks burned with the silent imputation of parsimony that such close dealing implied. Three times
Della counted it. One dollar and eighty-seven cents. And the next day would be Christmas.
There was clearly nothing to do but flop down on the shabby little couch and howl. So Della
did it. Which instigates the moral reflection that life is made up of sobs, sniffles, and smiles, with snif-
fles predominating.
While the mistress of the home is gradually subsiding from the first stage to the second, take a
look at the home. A furnished flat at $8 per week. It did not exactly beggar description, but it certain-
ly had that word on the lookout for the mendicancy squad.
In the vestibule below was a letter-box into which no letter would go, and an electric button
from which no mortal finger could coax a ring. Also appertaining thereunto was a card bearing the
name "Mr. James Dillingham Young." The "Dillingham" had been flung to the breeze during a former
period of prosperity when its possessor was being paid $30 per week. Now, when the income was
shrunk to $20, the letters of "Dillingham" looked blurred, as though they were thinking seriously of
contracting to a modest and unassuming D. But whenever Mr. James Dillingham Young came home
and reached his flat above he was called "Jim" and greatly hugged by Mrs. James Dillingham Young,
already
introduced to you as Della. Which is all very good.
Della finished her cry and attended to her cheeks with the powder rag. She stood by the win-
dow and looked out dully at a grey cat walking a grey fence in a grey backyard. Tomorrow would be
Christmas Day, and she had only $1.87 with which to buy Jim a present. She had been saving every
penny she could for months, with this result. Twenty dollars a week doesn't go far. Expenses had been
greater than she had calculated. They always are. Only $1.87 to buy a present for Jim. Her Jim. Many
a happy hour she had spent planning for something nice for him. Something fine and rare and ster-
ling—something just a little bit near to being worthy of the honour of being owned by Jim.
There was a pier-glass between the windows of the room. Perhaps you have seen a pier-glass in
an $8 flat. A very thin and very agile person may, by observing his reflection in a rapid sequence of
longitudinal strips, obtain a fairly accurate conception of his looks. Della, being slender, had mastered
the art.
Suddenly she whirled from the window and stood before the glass. Her eyes were shining bril-
liantly, but her face had lost its colour within twenty seconds. Rapidly she pulled down her hair and
let it fall to its full length.
Now, there were two possessions of the James Dillingham Youngs in which they both took a
mighty pride. One was Jim's gold watch that had been his father's and his grandfather's. The other was
Della's hair. Had the Queen of Sheba lived in the flat across the airshaft, Della would have let her hair
hang out the window some day to dry just to depreciate Her Majesty's jewels and gifts. Had King Sol-
omon been the janitor, with all his treasures piled up in the basement, Jim would have pulled out his
watch every time he passed, just to see him pluck at his beard from envy.
So now Della's beautiful hair fell about her, rippling and shining like a cascade of brown waters.
It reached below her knee and made itself almost a garment for her. And then she did it up again nerv-
ously and quickly. Once she faltered for a minute and stood still while a tear or two splashed on the
worn red carpet.
50
On went her old brown jacket; on went her old brown hat. With a whirl of skirts and with the
brilliant sparkle still in her eyes, she fluttered out the door and down the stairs to the street.
Where she stopped the sign read: "Mme. Sofronie. Hair Goods of All Kinds." One flight up Della
ran, and collected herself, panting. Madame, large, too white, chilly, hardly looked the "Sofronie."
"Will you buy my hair?" asked Della.
"I buy hair," said Madame. "Take yer hat off and let's have a sight at the looks of it."
Down rippled the brown cascade. "Twenty dollars," said Madame, lifting the mass with a prac-
tised hand.
"Give it to me quick," said Della.
Oh, and the next two hours tripped by on rosy wings. Forget the hashed metaphor. She was
ransacking the stores for Jim's present.
She found it at last. It surely had been made for Jim and no one else. There was no other like it
in any of the stores, and she had turned all of them inside out. It was a platinum fob chain simple and
chaste in design, properly proclaiming its value by substance alone and not by meretricious ornamen-
tation—as all good things should do. It was even worthy of The Watch. As soon as she saw it she knew
that it must be Jim's. It was like him. Quietness and value—the description applied to both. Twenty-
one dollars they took from her for it, and she hurried home with the 87 cents. With that chain on his
watch Jim might be properly anxious about the time in any company. Grand as the watch was, he
sometimes looked at it on the sly on account of the old leather strap that he used in place of a chain.
When Della reached home her intoxication gave way a little to prudence and reason. She got
out her curling irons and lighted the gas and went to work repairing the ravages made by generosity
added to love. Which is always a tremendous task, dear friends—a mammoth task.
Within forty minutes her head was covered with tiny, close-lying curls that made her look won-
derfully like a truant schoolboy. She looked at her reflection in the mirror long, carefully, and critical-
ly.
"If Jim doesn't kill me," she said to herself, "before he takes a second look at me, he'll say I look
like a Coney Island chorus girl. But what could I do—oh! what could I do with a dollar and eighty-
seven cents?"
At 7 o'clock the coffee was made and the frying-pan was on the back of the stove hot and ready
to cook the chops.
Jim was never late. Della doubled the fob chain in her hand and sat on the corner of the table
near the door that he always entered. Then she heard his step on the stair away down on the first
flight, and she turned white for just a moment. She had a habit for saying little silent prayers about
the simplest everyday things, and now she whispered: "Please God, make him think I am still pretty."
The door opened and Jim stepped in and closed it. He looked thin and very serious. Poor fellow,
he was only twenty-two—and to be burdened with a family! He needed a new overcoat and he was
without gloves.
Jim stopped inside the door, as immovable as a setter at the scent of quail. His eyes were fixed
upon Della, and there was an expression in them that she could not read, and it terrified her. It was
not anger, nor surprise, nor disapproval, nor horror, nor any of the sentiments that she had been pre-
pared for. He simply stared at her fixedly with that peculiar expression on his face.
Della wriggled off the table and went for him.
"Jim, darling," she cried, "don't look at me that way. I had my hair cut off and sold because I
couldn't have lived through Christmas without giving you a present. It'll grow out again—you won't
mind, will you? I just had to do it. My hair grows awfully fast. Say 'Merry Christmas!' Jim, and let's be
happy. You don't know what a nice—what a beautiful, nice gift I've got for you."
51
"You've cut off your hair?" asked Jim, laboriously, as if he had not arrived at that patent fact
yet even after the hardest mental labor.
"Cut it off and sold it," said Della. "Don't you like me just as well, anyhow? I'm me without my
hair, ain't I?"
Jim looked about the room curiously.
"You say your hair is gone?" he said, with an air almost of idiocy.
"You needn't look for it," said Della. "It's sold, I tell you—sold and gone, too. It's Christmas
Eve, boy. Be good to me, for it went for you. Maybe the hairs of my head were numbered," she went on
with sudden serious sweetness, "but nobody could ever count my love for you. Shall I put the chops on,
Jim?"
Out of his trance Jim seemed quickly to wake. He enfolded his Della. For ten seconds let us re-
gard with discreet scrutiny some inconsequential object in the other direction. Eight dollars a week or a
million a year—what is the difference? A mathematician or a wit would give you the wrong answer.
The magi brought valuable gifts, but that was not among them. This dark assertion will be illuminated
later on.
Jim drew a package from his overcoat pocket and threw it upon the table.
"Don't make any mistake, Dell," he said, "about me. I don't think there's anything in the way of
a haircut or a shave or a shampoo that could make me like my girl any less. But if you'll unwrap that
package you may see why you had me going a while at first."
White fingers and nimble tore at the string and paper. And then an ecstatic scream of joy; and
then, alas! a quick feminine change to hysterical tears and wails, necessitating the immediate employ-
ment of all the comforting powers of the lord of the flat.
For there lay The Combs—the set of combs, side and back, that Della had worshipped long in a
Broadway window. Beautiful combs, pure tortoise shell, with jewelled rims—just the shade to wear in
the beautiful vanished hair. They were expensive combs, she knew, and her heart had simply craved
and yearned over them without the least hope of possession. And now, they were hers, but the tresses
that should have adorned the coveted adornments were gone.
But she hugged them to her bosom, and at length she was able to look up with dim eyes and a
smile and say: "My hair grows so fast, Jim!"
And then Della leaped up like a little singed cat and cried, "Oh, oh!"
Jim had not yet seen his beautiful present. She held it out to him eagerly upon her open palm.
The dull precious metal seemed to flash with a reflection of her bright and ardent spirit.
"Isn't it a dandy, Jim? I hunted all over town to find it. You'll have to look at the time a hun-
dred times a day now. Give me your watch. I want to see how it looks on it."
Instead of obeying, Jim tumbled down on the couch and put his hands under the back of his
head and smiled.
"Dell," said he, "let's put our Christmas presents away and keep 'em a while. They're too nice to
use just at present. I sold the watch to get the money to buy your combs. And now suppose you put the
chops on."
The magi, as you know, were wise men—wonderfully wise men—who brought gifts to the Babe
in the manger. They invented the art of giving Christmas presents. Being wise, their gifts were no
doubt wise ones, possibly bearing the privilege of exchange in case of duplication. And here I have
lamely related to you the uneventful chronicle of two foolish children in a flat who most unwisely sacri-
ficed for each other the greatest treasures of their house. But in a last word to the wise of these days let
it be said that of all who give gifts these two were the wisest. Of all who give and receive gifts, such as
they are wisest. Everywhere they are wisest. They are the magi.
52
Book Recommendations
Fahrenheit 451, Ray Bradbury
Mr. Penumbra’s 24 Hour Bookstore, Robin Sloan
Twelve Years A Slave, Solomon Northup
Metamorphosis, Franz Kafka
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, Jonathan S. Foer
English and Translation Department, Effat University Ethos Magazine, Issue 8 Spring 2015
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