The Story of a Great Man

Image credit: Educación Guao "El Castillo Monte Líbano" (The Castle of Mount Lebanon) Caracas, Venezuela.

“There is no other solution. I must travel if I want to give my wife and kids a better life and future.” Many fathers think and say so when they have no other choice and want to find a comfortable and appropriate living to their beloved ones. 

My father was one of them and decided to search for a new horizon in Venezuela. He left Lebanon, breaking his heart in two: one part he left with his family and other he kept to help him either overcome any adversities or give him the strength he could need to spend a whole year before he could see them again.  

At first, he made up his mind to try to cope with the new culture, traditions and most importantly the language, disregarding any problem that might put him down. He was full of hope and enthusiasm, so he started to sell delicate pieces of fabric in a small suitcase he used as luggage when he travelled. He used to wake up early, have his breakfast and start to walk on the wide streets of Guiria, a beautiful, small town near the sea in Sucre, one of the biggest states in Venezuela. It was near the sea and often sunny, but my father didn’t care about that; he was used to very hot weather. He knocked on every door with the hope of selling as much as he could, so he could buy a house, some furniture and four tickets to bring his family as fast as possible. 

Undoubtedly, the life of an immigrant has more downs than ups, but the love, perseverance and desire for a better living made my father forget all the pain of loneliness he came through. During that year, he worked so hard that he sometimes went to bed forgetting to have his dinner. His thoughts and feelings were concentrated on the day he would meet his beloved ones again, safe and sound as he left them. Why? Well leaving his heartwarming and caring wife in charge of three kids - two boys and a daughter - was a big responsibility. Besides, while sending part of the money he gained helped her survive, it didn’t lessen the pain of being so far apart.

After a year, he could finally hug his family. The joy to see them again erased all the pain and made him forget those difficult days. Nothing could be compared to that moment. He felt alive again. Of course, our problems and misfortunes wouldn’t stop there, but at least he had the other part of his heart back, ready to face and fight anything stronger than ever.

He found a small, cozy house which he and my mother filled with love, respect and happiness. They taught us the morals and principles which we still keep now, regardless of how hard things get.

Three years passed before I was born in that breathtaking state. My parents raised me the same way as my siblings, for equality always prevailed among us. We grew up following their teachings, wisdom and experience because they didn’t have the chance to complete their education, but both possessed a fierce intelligence. While others might use a calculator to find the final result of a sum, my father would work it out immediately. My mother was a creative seamstress. She used the remaining fabric to make beautiful patterns for shirts, skirts and any other piece of clothing she could sell in order to help.

Growing up in such an environment based on real values people should have and families should keep, we were very lucky and proud to have two amazing role models. When I was three years old, my father decided to move to Zulia, which was considered the second capital of Venezuela because of the chance for better jobs and education. My father couldn’t afford to buy, so we rented houses instead. I say ‘houses’ because in one year alone, we were forced to rent five houses. Although my sister and brothers were at school, they didn’t miss any lessons because the ministry of education obliged all schools, private and public, to follow the annual distribution they prepared, so that all schools could move at the same pace and fulfill the educational objectives for each subject.

My father worked six days a week, but every Sunday was a day off to spend with us. He wanted us to concentrate only on our lessons and classes. He never once asked us to help him work, for he said it was his responsibility. Instead, he wanted us to be excellent students, saying he couldn’t finish his education because he had to help his father when he was our age. 

Venezuela is well-known for its beautiful nature and visiting one of them at least once a month became my father’s habit. Another characteristic of the country was its people. The Venezuelan were and will always be sociable, honest, and friendly to any immigrant with good intentions; otherwise, they will close ranks. Luckily, the people who looked at us as strangers started to become our friends and then part of our family. My father always taught us to treat others the same way we wanted to be treated. That helped us have a very respectful and good relationship with not only our neighbors but also our classmates at school and later at university.

Well not everything was like “la vie en rose”, for we encountered many adversities which made us sometimes think it was the end of the world, but fortunately the strong bonds we had helped us. My father changed from selling fabrics to selling furniture. He had to buy a small truck to load it with mattresses and any other furniture he could sell; consequently, it was the only vehicle we had to go out.

One day we were going to visit some relatives. My mother, my sister and I were sitting next to my father, and my brothers were in the rear part of the truck. When my father turned onto the highway, my big brother, who was twelve, fell off the truck and hit his back and head. We immediately took him to the nearest hospital. To my brother’s misfortune, the doctor who treated him wasn’t helpful. By the time we reached a second hospital, my brother’s head was getting worse and worse. After two hours in the ER, we got the bad news. The damage caused by the accident was so severe that my brother would be brain damaged, and eventually he would suffer a future deviation of his column. We were also told that performing a surgery was too dangerous given his medical condition.

We spent a week at the hospital, taking shifts to visit and look over him. My mother spent every night with him, leaving my father to take care of the rest of us at night. Our neighbors also contributed by cooking and helping my sister and I with anything we needed. When my brother was finally home, our cousins, friends, and neighbors took turns to be with him and us. Their kindness and love helped us emotionally, especially my parents. He recovered quickly physically, as he was very strong, but he grew up having the body of a man and a brain of a child. But he always recognised our unconditional love and patience. We never treated him as disabled, as many people did. He was a special person who needed extra attention and we were there to do so. That’s all you can ask for. 

That was only one of the misfortunes we lived through. Every time something bad happened to any of us, the rest of the family would be there to help. Any mistake or incident was a lesson to learn, as my father used to say. He always told us to be strong and wise in order to find the correct solution to any difficult circumstance. He also advised us not to take any decision either when we were very happy or when we were angry because it wouldn’t be the correct one, it might lead us to regret our decisions. 

In brief, our life was not the perfect one as any of those who immigrate in search of a better life, but in my case, my father sacrificed a lot to make every moment of our life perfect. That’s why we decided to come back to Lebanon after graduating in order to pay back a small part of all the sacrifices he made in trying to give us the respectful, decent and happy life we had. 

Today and after ten years of his departure, we still remember every single moment we lived together, and we thank God for having given us the opportunity to have him as our father. 

Thank you Dad for all the lessons you taught us. Thank you for being the man, the father, the friend, the supporter, the guide, and the human being you were. You gave us the chance to grow, study and graduate in one of the most beautiful countries in the world.

Thanks for everything. Rest in peace.