I had a daughter once, but I lost her 10 years ago

I lost another daughter, yet again, the other day

The first was in her prime, pretty and bold, with a mind of her own

This one, too, was adorable, solid in her faith, serious in disposition, loved and funny

What does a father do when such twin losses make their rounds?

Who does he turn to? Where does he hide?

What does he do with his tears and with his hair?

Oh, on which rock does he beat his brow? What misfortune must he curse?

Alas, yes, two daughters gone, fallen flowers both, nipped in the bud

My younger daughter died surrounded by rocks on some street in a land she chose as her own

I ask why? Not why, as in why were they not a bit more careful.

My why screams at the perpetrators why they did what they did?

My daughters of innocence, and of resolve, taken away from me prematurely

But they were never mine, really, so I had to let go as their souls flew heavenward

I had Rachel Corrie once, my first born baby girl

Then it was Habiba Ahmed Abd ElAziz, not any less, my number two baby face

But I have another daughter, my last born girl, perky and progressive

She is Sumayyah bint Khayat ibn Muslim, a name she chose for herself, and I smiled

I am ready to submit her, too, to the front lines, if need be, for the next round