By Arwa Abbas Al-Khoori
ABU DHABI — I woke up to screaming children and blood covering the floor; my niece had fallen while jumping on the bed and cracked her skull half open. I grabbed a white kitchen towel and put pressure on the wound. I quickly carried her helpless body and ran to the phone to call my sister, who was in a business meeting at that time. I contemplated whether I should just send her a text message, explaining what happened. I decided to just call since this was an absolute emergency.
The phone rang for a good three rings; then a low, yet sharp voice erupted from the other end. I explained briefly what had happened. My sister’s tone got sharper and I kept hearing sincere apologies, likely being made to those in the business meeting. Then a door slammed shut with a loud bang, and an explosion of questions followed.
How? When? Why? Where?
Then complete silence.
A deep breath. Then I was put on hold for approximately three minutes. I heard a beep and suddenly a calming deep voice reassuring both me and my sister that everything was going to be OK. The voice explained in agonizing detail what I needed to do until both the ambulance and my sister reached our grounds.
I did exactly what the voice conveyed and gladly all the kids were calm too. My niece, my tiny princess, was curled up in a ball hugging my shirt tightly. Minutes later, the ambulance came bringing out a clean, fresh, white stretcher and loading her calm, yet shaking body gently upon it.
Hours later, my princess came home with a new crown on her little, just washed head. The crown was white and made of cotton. It covered her wound perfectly.
She ran into my arms, as I sang for the hundredth time “no more monkeys jumping on the bed.”
This story was originally published on Sept. 7, 2016. It was re-uploaded on Dec. 31, 2020.
