Today I’ll tell you about my new neighbor, Mr. Cemil. I encountered him on my morning walk; he was strolling around the neighborhood with his four-year-old granddaughter, Ceyda, before going to work. Ceyda, in her grandfather’s arms, was happily exploring the neighborhood, her face radiating happiness and good health. What caught my attention was that Mr. Cemil was rubbing his back on the grass while playing and joking with his granddaughter. He reached out with her, laughing and sharing in her excitement as she pointed out insects, birds, trees, and leaves. This significant scene continued for several minutes. Despite his pain, Mr. Cemil showed no sign of weariness. Every morning, despite his increasing back pain, he seemed to forget the agony. He never withheld his smile from his granddaughter.
This morning, Mr. Cemil, whom I had advised to see a doctor sometime;
“You’re right, doctor. But if the doctor I’m going to see forbids me from going for morning walks with my granddaughter, I won’t be able to bear that news. Ceyda is a memento from my late daughter. My granddaughter is my most precious possession. I can’t leave Ceyda alone even for a single morning.”
I was deeply moved by what I heard; my eyes welled up with tears.
Clearly, Ceyda was eager to explore life with her grandfather every morning. Mr. Cemil also wanted his granddaughter Ceyda to fully experience the feeling of being loved, valued, and safe every morning. Ceyda would cherish those unique moments spent with her grandfather in this neighborhood for a lifetime.
Those moments would become Ceyda’s most valuable asset in life.
Today I realized once again that what matters most in life—as a mother, father, grandfather, teacher, friend, companion, and simply as a “human being”—is what we accumulate, why we accumulate it, and for what purpose.
Thank you for taking the time to read this.
With love and respect.
Uğur Uğural