The Witch of Portobello

"Now that I've found my path, there will be no more difficult moments. After all, I have a mission to fulfill, don't I?"

"Yes, we all have a mission to fulfill."

She started to feel uncertain.

"And what about the difficult moments?" she asked.

"That isn't an intelligent thing to ask. Remember what you said just now: you are loved, wanted, protected."

"I'll do my best."

Her eyes filled with tears. Athena had understood my answer.

SAMIRA R. KHALIL, HOUSEWIFE

My own grandson! What has my grandson got to do with all this? What kind of world are we living in? Are we still in the Middle Ages, engaging in witch hunts?

I ran to him. He had a bloody nose, but he didn't seem to care about my distress and pushed me away.

"I know how to defend myself, and I did."

I may never have produced a child in my own womb, but I know the hearts of children. I was far more worried about Athena than I was about Viorel. This was just one of many fights he would have to face in his life, and there was a flicker of pride in his swollen eyes.

"Some children at school said that Mum was a devil worshiper!"

Sherine arrived shortly afterward, soon enough to see the boy's bloodied face and to kick up a fuss. She wanted to go straight to the school and talk to the head teacher, but first I put my arms around her. I let her cry out all her tears and all her frustrations, and the best thing I could do then was to keep silent and try to convey my love for her through that silence.

When she had calmed down a little, I explained carefully that she could come back home and live with us, that we would take care of everything. When her father read about the case being brought against her, he had immediately spoken to some lawyers. We would do everything we could to get her out of this situation regardless of comments from the neighbors, ironic looks from acquaintances, and the false solidarity of friends.

Nothing in the world was more important than my daughter's happiness, even though I'd never understood why she always had to choose the most difficult and painful of paths. But a mother doesn't have to understand anything, she simply has to love and protect. And feel proud. Knowing that we could give her almost everything, she nevertheless set off early in search of her independence. She'd had her stumbles and her failures, but she insisted on facing any storms alone. She went looking for her mother, aware of the risks she was running, and in the end, that encounter brought her closer to us. I knew she had never once heeded my advice--get a degree, get married, put up with the problems of living with someone without complaint, don't try to go beyond the limits set by society. And what had been the result?

By following my daughter's story, I became a better person. Obviously I didn't understand about the Mother Goddess or Athena's need always to surround herself with strangers, or her inability to be content with all that she'd achieved after so much work. But deep down, even though it may be rather late in the day for such ideas, I wish I could have been like her.

I was about to get up and prepare something to eat, but she stopped me.

"I want to stay here for a while with your arms around me. That's all I need. Viorel, go and watch TV. I want to talk to your grandmother."

The boy obeyed.

"I must have caused you a lot of suffering."

"Not at all. On the contrary, you and your son are the source of all our joy and our reason for living."

"But I haven't exactly--"

"I'm glad it's been the way it has. I can say it now: there were moments when I hated you, when I bitterly regretted not having followed the advice of that nurse and adopted another baby. Then I'd ask myself: How can a mother hate her own daughter? I took tranquillizers, played bridge with my friends, went on shopping sprees, and all to make up for the love I'd given you and which I felt I wasn't getting back.

"A few months ago, when you decided to give up yet another job that was bringing you both money and prestige, I was in despair. I went to the local church. I wanted to make a promise to the Virgin and beg her to bring you back to reality, to force you to change your life and make the most of the chances you were throwing away. I was ready to do anything in exchange for that.

"I stood looking at the Virgin and Child. And I said: 'You're a mother and you know what's happening. Ask anything of me, but save my child, because I think she's bent on self-destruction.'"

I felt Sherine's arms holding me tighter. She was crying again, but her tears were different this time. I was doing my best to control my feelings.

"And do you know what I felt at that moment? I felt that she was talking to me and saying: 'Listen, Samira, that's what I thought too. I suffered for years because my son wouldn't listen to anything I said. I used to worry about his safety, I didn't like the friends he chose, and he showed no respect for laws, customs, religion, or his elders.' Need I go on?"

"Yes, I'd like to hear the rest of the story."

"The Virgin concluded by saying, 'But my son didn't listen to me. And now I'm very glad that he didn't.'"