Short Story on Lebanese Culture

             It was Saturday, the first Saturday of the month, and the girls were
             at it again. Mohammed left early when he heard his mom clanging pots
             together in the kitchen. "MaMaaa, is Sana and Marina coming for lunch
             today'" he called from the flat roof after morning prayers. "Yes, you
             sister and grandmother are coming for the day. You know we meet every
             month on the first. Marina your sister has a new job at the retail store
             in town, and your grand mother is, well, she is the same as ever. Ready to
             complain about the politician, the food, and the way you kids dress, but
             she is still my mother, and I enjoy her company. We have seen many changes
             . . and you should . . ." Mohammed already had grabbed his work vest, and
             was headed out the door as his mother's voice changed from one of telling
             him about the day to judging his modern attitudes.
             "Good by MaMaa, I will be back after evening prayer." He called over
             his shoulder. The last thing he wanted to do was to be lectured on his
             attitudes by his mother. He was a young man, and as he pulled on his
             brightly colored woven vest, Mohammed stepped onto his red Honda scooter,
             Lillianna went back to work on the layers of pastry. She was fixing
             her momma's recipe of Baklava which had been passed down to her by her
             mother. The dough had to be just right, or Sana would have something else
             to complain about. Although Lillianna respected her mom as the oldest
             living members of the family, her days were not often filled with the
             energy she was putting into the baking this morning. Having her mom and
             daughter Marina over was one of the bright spots of her monthly calendar.
             Since her husband was killed in the 1980 civil war, Mohammed, Marina and
             her mom were the focus of most of her life's energy. She still couldn't get
             the image out of her mind. Her husbands business had been bombed during
             fighting in the neighborhood. He wasn't even ...

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Short Story on Lebanese Culture. (1969, December 31). In MegaEssays.com. Retrieved 05:00, March 29, 2024, from https://www.megaessays.com/viewpaper/200552.html