In a small, Egyptian town there lived a boy and his father. The boy’s name was Ismail. Every morning Ismail would wake up and feed his father’s horse then he would prepare breakfast and sit down at the roof to eat with his father. After finishing breakfast, he would head to school and return by three in the evening.
One day after he came back from school, he found a small lamb tied to an iron rod at the back garden. He went to his father to ask him about the lamb. His father told him that they bought the lamb for the big feast.
Ismail knew all about the big feast. Every year, by the end of November, people buy all kinds of cows and sheep and then they slaughter them in one big massacre.
One week before the big feast, Ismail had nightmares about the sheep and the cows. He would find himself swimming in a sea of blood, with thunder roaring above him. The heads of the cows and the sheep would float all around him, their eyes popping out of their heads as if telling him “You killed us, you betrayed us, you deserve to die.”
Ismail would wake up with a sweaty face. He would scream at the darkness, kick at the quilt and punch at the pillow.
One night the whole scenario replayed itself, but this time Mr. Ali heard his son. He put on his slippers and ran to Ismail’s room.
“Are you ok?” he said, hugging his son. “Why are you screaming?”
“I dreamt of the slain sheep. I don’t want you to slay any of them Dad, please.”
“I can’t” his father said, “God asked us to slay them and enjoy their delicious meat.”
“You can eat any other thing. But don’t slaughter them please.”
Mr. Ali kissed his son over his forehead with a smile and headed back to his room.
On the morning of the Eid, Ismail and his father went to the near mosque. They prayed and prayed and prayed. Halfway through the prayer, Ismail took a small corner at the back of the mosque and raised his hands to the ceiling. “Please, God, save the sheep and the cows. They did nothing wrong to die.” Ismail finished his prayer and followed his father out of the mosque.
It seemed that God did not hear his prayer, for his father was preparing his silvery knife and, slowly, approaching the lamb at the garden of their house.
One day after he came back from school, he found a small lamb tied to an iron rod at the back garden. He went to his father to ask him about the lamb. His father told him that they bought the lamb for the big feast.
Ismail knew all about the big feast. Every year, by the end of November, people buy all kinds of cows and sheep and then they slaughter them in one big massacre.
One week before the big feast, Ismail had nightmares about the sheep and the cows. He would find himself swimming in a sea of blood, with thunder roaring above him. The heads of the cows and the sheep would float all around him, their eyes popping out of their heads as if telling him “You killed us, you betrayed us, you deserve to die.”
Ismail would wake up with a sweaty face. He would scream at the darkness, kick at the quilt and punch at the pillow.
One night the whole scenario replayed itself, but this time Mr. Ali heard his son. He put on his slippers and ran to Ismail’s room.
“Are you ok?” he said, hugging his son. “Why are you screaming?”
“I dreamt of the slain sheep. I don’t want you to slay any of them Dad, please.”
“I can’t” his father said, “God asked us to slay them and enjoy their delicious meat.”
“You can eat any other thing. But don’t slaughter them please.”
Mr. Ali kissed his son over his forehead with a smile and headed back to his room.
On the morning of the Eid, Ismail and his father went to the near mosque. They prayed and prayed and prayed. Halfway through the prayer, Ismail took a small corner at the back of the mosque and raised his hands to the ceiling. “Please, God, save the sheep and the cows. They did nothing wrong to die.” Ismail finished his prayer and followed his father out of the mosque.
It seemed that God did not hear his prayer, for his father was preparing his silvery knife and, slowly, approaching the lamb at the garden of their house.