Ask Her Name

Honey, why have you not asked Her name?

What do you mean, Mama?

Why don’t you want to know the name of the Girl in the wind?

Oh. I don’t know.

That’s not good enough.

I guess I just don’t need to know, Mama. The story wouldn’t change.

But you do need to know, baby.

Why?

Because names have power.

They do?

Yes. They prove that we matter. Do you remember what your name means?

It means ‘beautiful eyes.’

Yes. Maha, beautiful eyes. I picked that because I want you to always remember to see.

What about your name?

Ah, my name. Ramla. It means Prophetess. I don’t remember why your grandmother chose it, but somehow, she knew I would be a good storyteller.

I love your stories, Mama.

Do you?

Yes!

Then why don’t you want to know the name of the Girl in the wind? Do you not care enough about my story to ask?

It’s just a story, She’s not real, Her name doesn’t have power.

How do you know She’s not real?

I just know.

Fine, I will tell you. Her name is—

—Don’t tell me! I don’t want to know!

Why are you suddenly so stubborn, my daughter?

Why are you making me ask!?

Are those tears that I see, child?

I don’t want to know Her name.

One day, baby, you will want to know. And when you do, you will ask.

Come now, I can see that it’s time for bed.