Once upon a time I was living in Aleppo (Halap) , feeling grateful to be born in this prestigious very old & historical city.
Always meeting new people from all over the world coming to visit as tourists , but as my special own guests.
I never thought that I was telling them the story of my city . I was telling them the truth of my live wrapped with history , as if I was the oldest one in the city who remembered all its stories.
I still remember every single one visited me even though I forgot some names . But they were all special .
Never thought that my visitors will stop coming & never thought that I wills stop telling them my stories.
Like a grandpa , waiting my grandsons & daughters to gather around me during their visit every now and then to listen to my amazing stories , I will be.
I know that they will come once again before I put my head for the last time on my pillow and rest.
Not in my worst nightmare, nor in my bad dreams that we are going to leave our homes and be lost in nowhere. Yes nowhere even if those countries we are in have got names. But still is nowhere for us.