One evening I’m at my sister’s house. Outside, the frosted windows trembling with the screams unleashed by the snowstorm seemed to be sweating from the warmth of the heated room… At one point my sister, probably for some task, went out to the hall. Now I was left alone inside with my little niece, tiny Nermin. Unaware of me, she was occupied with her fancy toys behind the stove. I don’t know how much time passed, but suddenly she cried out with a trembling, small, delicate little cry that resembled weeping. I immediately gathered myself from the divan where I had been sprawled in vast comfort and said, “What’s wrong, dear Nermin, what happened?”
She looked at me with her tearful eyes, her beautiful, innocent and lovable blue eyes. She was so small that she couldn’t yet speak. She got up staggering. Coming close to me, she brought her little hand to my mouth. Not understanding anything, I was caressing her curly hair, asking her: “Tell me, sweetie, what happened?”
She, repeating her meaningless words that were a spiritual bird language, kept bringing her pink and tiny hand to my lips. Still not sensing anything, I kept caressing her…
A little later the door opened, my sister came. Nermin, casting her beautiful and innocent eyes at me disappointedly, slipped from my lap. She ran to her mother, brought her hand to her mother’s lips: “Ow, mother, oh…”
That little hand, that pink and delicate finger was moistened by compassionate kisses, her mother murmured in an affectionate voice: “Oh my darling, how did you hurt it? Did it get caught in your rabbit’s foot again?…”
Then I understood that the hand raised to my insensitive lips moments ago—this little hand aching from the hard foot of her white and pure rabbit, her beloved toy—was waiting for the healing warmth of a warm kiss to forget its pain—the spiritual cure of a sacred, compassionate, loving kiss…
