Daughters of Abraham

By Marianne Clements

Daughters of Abraham is a story of two women whose lives intertwined after they came to the United States in search of a new beginning. Both turned away from their past, leaving behind countless impositions enforced on them by their respective cultures and religions.
The two women are minorities in their country of origin. Goli is a Kurd, a Sunni Muslim from Iran, while Lenny is a Roman Catholic from Spanish-Colonial Philippines. Despite their opposing backgrounds and lifestyles, the two managed to transcend their differences and formed a deep bond, as they harness the values of their adopted country-America. But could their friendship withstand the allure of power and materialism?
The life experiences of both Goli and Lenny are heavily influenced by their Religion. The story unravels beliefs and practices of the two most dominant religions in the world: Islam and Catholicism. These insights, along with the cultural practices of the characters’ native homeland, create thought-provoking and riveting revelations. Does Religion alleviate or exacerbate humanity’s anguish? You be the judge.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Marianne Clements
• Release date: Dec 25, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311012999

Marianne Clements

Marianne Clements is a Bay Area resident. She is passionate about learning and understanding different cultures and enjoys exploring ethnic cuisines. Her other interests includes world history and travel.Contact Information:[e-mail]

Book preview

Chapter 0: FOREWORD: The Patriarch

Once there was a man who walked in the path of righteousness, he worked hard to please his God. He heeded the commandments of his Lord, and followed His every law and ordinance.

One day God called the man and ordered him to leave his home and settle in a new land. He promised the man great rewards in this new nation and made a covenant with him.

I will make you father of many great nations, God told him.

But how will this happen my Lord? My wife is old and barren, the man replied.

Look to the heavens above. You will have children as many as stars in the sky. Heed my command, and you shall have great rewards.

The man traveled to the land with his aged wife and all of his animals and servants. They settled there and thrived. But the promise of an heir did not come about.

Go lie with my maidservant, his wife offered. Maybe through her you will have a child, for the Lord has kept me from bearing your children.

The man did just that and the servant girl bore him a son. He named the boy Ishmael.

But his wife became jealous of the slave who taunted her for her barren womb. The wife went to her husband in distress.

What have I done to deserve such scorn? she asked her husband.

I am a good woman yet I am ridiculed for being childless. The Lord has prevented me from bearing you an heir, and for this I must suffer?

The old man took pity on his wife. She is your servant. The old man replied. Deal with her however you please.

The wife then abused the slave until the girl could no longer bear the cruelty and fled to the desert. In the desert, the Lord heard her cries.

Go back to your mistress and submit to her cruelty. As for your son Ishmael, I promise you this: I will bless him and make him father of many nations. He is the son of my faithful follower with whom I made a covenant.

The servant girl went back to her mistress.

Then the Lord appeared to the old man.

I will give you a son with your wife, the Lord said.

How will this happen my Lord? My wife is past her child-bearing years.

This time next year she will have a son, the Lord promised.

As foretold a year later, the old man’s wife gave birth to a son. He was named Isaac.

One day, years later, the wife saw the son of the servant girl playing with her son. She went to her husband.

I do not want my son around the son of the slave. Send them far away, she said.

Although afraid for his firstborn’s life, the old man sent the slave girl and Ishmael to the desert away from his wife and son Isaac. He gave them bread and a skin filled with water. When the water was consumed and the slave and her boy were dying of thirst, the girl sat her son on the barren land and closed her eyes. She was about to abandon her son for she could not bear to watch him die.

God witnessed her distress and appeared to the servant girl. He repeated his earlier promise.

Your son will survive to become the father of many nations.

The girl opened her eyes to find a spring of water within reach. She gave some to her son, and then drank deeply herself. Thereafter, on her own in the desert, she raised her son.

Then the Lord appeared to the old man.

Go to the mountain and build me an altar.

The old man did as God commanded him. When the altar was finished, the Lord made a second demand.

Bring your son Isaac and offer him to me on the altar.

Deeply shaken by God’s commands, the old man obeyed. But before he struck the knife to slaughter his beloved son, the Lord stopped him.

"You have proven yourself a true servant of mine. I will bless your son Isaac and make him father of many nations. His descendants will be as numerous as the stars in the sky and the sand on the shore. From now on, your name will be Abraham, father of many great nations.

Abraham lived to be one hundred and seventy-five years old. And in his old age, he deeded all his wealth and servants not to his first-born son Ishmael, as was common practice, but to his son Isaac.

Abrahams’ wife was named Sarah. Through Sarah and her son Isaac and their descendants came the Hebrew people, among them was Jesus of Nazareth. From Jesus’ teachings, Christianity was born.

The servant who bore Abraham’s first-born son Ishmael, was named Hagar. Through Hagar and her son and their myriad descendants, five hundred years after the crucifixion of Jesus, a leader named Mohammad was born. Through Mohammad, Islam came about.

****

Chapter 01: PROLOGUE: The Soft Light

Code blue, we have a code blue.

Dr. Smith swallowed the last bite of his sandwich and finished the remaining coffee in his mug. The emergency room had been very busy that day and he had not had time for lunch or dinner. He had worked two shifts for the last several days. The physician who was supposed to take the graveyard shift was on vacation in Hawai’i.

It was late in the evening and his body demanded food. He went to the hospital cafeteria, but before he could finish his meal, the paging system announced another code blue.

What do we have? Dr. Smith asked the emergency room nurse.

A car accident.

How many casualties? asked the exhausted doctor.

There were two women in the car. One victim was taken to Sunnyvale Medical Center.

People in the Bay Area simply don’t know how to drive, Dr. Smith thought to himself. A little fog or rain and the ER was packed with accident victims. Everyone should get their driver’s license in Wisconsin.

Dr. Smith grew up in a farm in Wisconsin. Through hard work and a loan, he managed to finish his medical degree and later did his internship at St. Luke’s Hospital, in San Jose. After his internship, the hospital offered him a job which he gladly accepted. Within a few years, the demands of the job cost Dr. Smith his marriage.

Once the divorce was final, he started to date a young software engineer he met through a friend. He wanted the relationship to succeed and promised himself he would devote more time to his family. Dr. Smith asked the hospital administrator for a new assignment, something not too stressful.

He recalled the conversation well. Before he left the office, he was certain that he would get a new assignment. He was right. The following month Dr. Smith was assigned to the ER.

Code blue, we have a code blue.

"Blue? Yes, I wore a lot of blue in my lifetime." The incoherent woman in the stretcher mumbled to herself while being rushed to the ER. She had been in and out of consciousness.

"I wore the same color blue uniform from age six until I was in my early twenties. A blue pleated skirt, white blouse with a blue tie, and black shoes with white socks. The only colors I could change were the ribbons in my hair."

Then a beautiful soft light appeared from above. She had never felt so at peace in her life. Emil’s face appeared first, full of love; then Angela, who had forgiven her; her grandmother whose love and devotion were beyond measure; and Goli’s beautiful face, smiling. She is very happy about something…. Then a terrified scream, and darkness took over.

We have a cardiac arrest! Dr. Smith declared.

****

Book One

The Middle East

Persia, modern-day Iran

March 21

Chapter 1: The Rose

The 21st of March is celebrated by all Iranians as a time of great joy and festivities. It is the Persian New Year—The Norooz. On this day, Iranians welcome the first day of spring and the triumph of good over evil.

The celebration gets underway weeks before the New Year. Iranians clean their homes and rearrange their furniture, make new clothes, and bake pastries. They germinate seeds, usually wheat, as a sign of renewal, and on the last Wednesday of the old year they light bonfires in outdoor public places. Fire and light symbolizes hope, enlightenment, and happiness to Iranians. As part of their tradition, Iranians leap over the fire and make a wish for the coming New Year.

To ensure their wishes come true, it is customary for Iranians to prepare special foods and share them with friends and family. The banquet usually consists of noodle soup - a Persian delight, and a mixture of dried fruits and nuts. Every household hosts a ceremonial table displaying seven items with names that start with the letter S: sabzeh (sprouts), representing rebirth; seeb (apple), for beauty; seer (garlic) for medicine and good health; somaq (a red-orange berry) to represent the sun, a symbol of good over evil; serkeh (vinegar) for age and patience; samanu (a sweet creamy pudding) to represent the sophistication of Persian cooking; and senjed (a sweet dried lotus fruit) to represent love. The number seven has been sacred to the Iranians since ancient times, representing the seven angelic heralds of life: Rebirth, Health, Happiness, Prosperity, Joy, Patience, and Beauty.

In the mountain region of the country is a small farming village. Stacked up against the hillside of the village are rows of square-shaped dwellings made of local stones and timber, all with flat roofs. The houses are arranged in a stair-like fashion, so that the roof of a house is used as the courtyard of the house on the upper slope. The corner house at the bottom row belonged to a well-respected village elder, Iman.

In Iman’s house, there were two reasons to celebrate. His fourth wife, Shadi, delivered their first child. In each of his previous weddings the bride was prettier and younger than her predecessor. Shadi is much younger than his youngest child. Iman is an old man, but very handsome, with a valuable skill. He is the village’s metal craftsman and earns a decent wage. That is, until the children poured in. Shadi’s first-born is his twelfth child.

It is getting more difficult for the prolific father to support his family. Most of Iman’s children are grown and have families of their own, but quite often they ask for help. The favor is reciprocated, however. Every time Iman’s household ran out of food, they simply walked a few doors down the pathway and into one of his children’s homes. Sharing is a virtue inherent in their culture and reinforced by their Islamic faith.

Shadi had been in labor since the night before. The women in the family gathered around her, encouraging her to wait until the New Year to deliver the baby. It is a common belief that children born on this day brings good fortune to the family.

As much as Shadi hoped to deliver the baby on the New Year, she was in excruciating pain. New Year or not, she wanted the baby born. Outside Iman’s small village house were the Haji Firuz, troubadours with brightly colored satin clothes. They are part of the village celebration—singing and dancing, blowing their trumpets and banging their tambourines, spreading good cheer for the New Year. The troubadours’ joyful songs deafened Shadi’s screams as she gave birth to a daughter. The baby was so beautiful she was likened to a rosebud. They named the baby Goli, meaning rose.

Chapter 2: Children of the Lesser Allah

Growing up, Goli was doted on by her older brothers and sisters and their offspring. She was the most beautiful child in the village. She developed a charismatic and outgoing personality, and was adored by everyone around her. Children in her village were proud to be called her friend.

At a young age, Goli discovered she had power over other children. She unknowingly exercised this power over everyone around her. She knew how to use her charm to get what she wanted. Day after day, she would change the rules of their games simply because that’s how she wanted it done that day. None of the children dared to disagree with her or risk being cast out of Goli’s circle of loyal friends. Goli got away with a lot of things except for the poverty that engulfed the small village.

Goli is a Kurd, an ethnic minority in Northwestern Iran. Kurdistan was once a country of its own, but in the 1940s the country was divided up. One part was annexed to Southeast Turkey, another part attached to Northeast Iraq, and the rest became part of Northwest Iran. Being a minority, the Kurds are culturally repressed and discriminated against. Iranians never really acknowledge the Kurds as legitimate citizens of Iran. They make fun of the Kurds’ accent and culture. In an effort to gain a fair share of the country’s wealth and power and to gain recognition, the Kurds are in constant battle with the government of Iran.

Most of the Kurds make their living by farming and raising livestock. They live in poor conditions with little water. They are exposed to tuberculosis, polio, malaria, and medical care is nonexistent. A lot of Kurdish children are malnourished. Some die because their families cannot afford treatments for curable and common diseases. The Kurds have state-funded schools, but they are inferior to the rest of the schools in the country.

Goli attended a state-funded school. Her father did not support the idea, but her mother had insisted. In school, Goli was as popular as she was in her village. There was one problem, however. Goli was a slow learner, but just like on the playground, rules were changed to accommodate her limitations. Her teachers would allow her to move on to the next grade level despite her failings, because she was a nice girl.

Goli progressed to high school. Her mother sold her jewelries to buy her books and other school supplies, but before Goli could graduate from high school, her mother died.

Chapter 3: The Persian Rug

It was a sunny Saturday morning in spring when it happened. Shadi had gone to the public bath with her two young children. The public bath is a large building with shallow pools filled with hot water. The weekly trip to the bath is an important part of the traditional social life of Iranian women. It’s a place where they can chat and gossip. As Shadi stepped from the bath, she slipped and hit her head. They called the mullah, a religious man who performs ceremonies and recites prayers to heal the poor woman, but she fell into a coma and died a few days later.

After her mother’s