*This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents in this book are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.*

SarahInspired by real stories on immigration and https://www.bbc.com/news/world-middle-east-12101748

Sarah arrived in Montreal months agowith her son Michael who won’t let go of memories of friends who looked like him,of his church and fave Sunday School hymns.

Sarah feels her son’s pain intensely.she misses her husband Boutros immensely.she often wonders why she still obeyed when he told her to go, but he had to stay.

are we ever gonna go back home?are we always gonna be numb just like stones?the winters are longer than adopting habits.tryna find our place, but they put us in brackets.people before us say the feeling’s temporary,but the burdens are endless and heavy to carry.

Sarah can’t forget the day she landedin a metropole that loudly chanted liberty, opportunity, and security.at least, she wasn’t persecuted daily.

that day, she cried herself to sleep,feeling like she was a lost sheepwithout her family in Alexandriaand her best friend Monica.

 are we ever gonna go back home?are we always gonna be numb just like stones?the winters are longer than adopting habits.tryna find our place, but they put us in brackets.people before us say the feeling’s temporary,but the burdens are endless and heavy to carry.

tomorrow’s January 1st, 2011,Sarah was encouraged by Karen,Michael’s Sunday School servant,to celebrate New Year’s in the church’s basement.

Sarah calls Boutros to let him know.he loves the idea and asks her to take photos“because i miss you both terribly.for my part, i’ll attend mass at Al-Qiddissin.”

are we ever gonna go back home?are we always gonna be numb just like stones?the winters are longer than adopting habits.tryna find our place, but they put us in brackets.people before us say the feeling’s temporary,but the burdens are endless and heavy to carry.

the next day, Sarah sends him the pictures, but she never gets back an answer.she sends him a nervous voice note,“please, pick up! don’t act like a ghost.”after preparing Michael’s stuff for schooland making dinner and keeping her cool, she calls Boutros for the third time,but in Egypt, it’s already bedtime. are we ever gonna go back home?are we always gonna be numb just like stones?the winters are longer than adopting habits.tryna find our place, but they put us in brackets.people before us say the feeling’s temporary,but the burdens are endless and heavy to carry.

right before she goes to bed, Sarah opens facebook and stops deadbefore a tragic post on her feed,“bomb kills 21 at Al-Qiddissin on New Year’s Eve.”

she has to call Boutros’s family now,who cares if it’s past midnight now?his mother picked up the phone bawling,“fen Boutros ya omi, why are you crying?”we are never gonna go back home,or we’re gonna end up dead just like stones. the winters are longer than they used to be‘cause they keep attacking our habaybis.we will see them one day in heaven,where we won’t have to carry any burden.

we are never gonna go back home:Om Al Donia lives within us, we’re not alone,so the long winters got nothing on us just like the persecutors who go nutswhen we chant kyrieleison loudly and accept the crown of martyrdom proudly.

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