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EXCERPT
…At the end of my speech Mommy hugged me and I could
feel through the embrace how moved she was. I returned
to my seat and she took the microphone. Wiping away tears,
she told the audience how surprised and pleased she was
to have me there… She told of a story of a little
two-year-old girl whose father would come home late at
night, grab a plateful of oatmeal cookies in one hand
and her in the other and go watch the evening news. It
was, Mommy said, that girl’s favorite part of the
day and she looked forward to it with all the joy in
her young heart… "When my husband was assassinated," Mommy
said, "every car that passed, Ilyasah would get
on the chair and look out the window. The car wouldn’t
stop. She would kick the door and go back to bed and
go back to sleep." After a pause, she went on. "And
I didn’t know how you explain to a little two-year
old about death… So what I began to do was, I’d
take a cookie and break it in half and put it on a plate
near the door. And she would come and get that. She would
still look, but at least she’d be a little happier."
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