The Wren:Chapter 7.2-Kutay
However, the greatest pain was yet to come. My dear Munise, my
little flower, fell ill. The conditions were terrible—there were no
medicines and very few doctors. I stayed by her side for nights,
holding her hand and praying. I told her stories of Istanbul, of the
green gardens and the blue sea, trying to keep her spirit alive.
"Mother," she whispered one night, her voice as thin as a thread.
"Don't be sad. You taught me how to fly. Now, I am just going to a
higher branch."
When Munise closed her eyes for the last time, a part of my soul died
with her. I buried her in the silent soil of Anatolia. For a long time, I
felt like a ghost walking in the streets. But then, I remembered her
words. I had a responsibility to the thousands of other "Munises"
waiting for me in the classrooms. I wiped my tears and returned to
my school. I was alone again, but my heart was now filled with the
stories of an entire nation.
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