The events of the story take place in a Palestinian city, between the little girl Zahrā’ and her kind, affectionate grandmother. When the little girl Zahrā’ went on her day off to visit her grandmother in her old house, full of stories, and while wandering through her grandmother’s room she found a box in her grandmother’s wardrobe. When it fell to the floor, very beautiful buttons spilled from it, and a conversation began between Zahrā’ and her grandmother about the secrets of the button box.
The Story:
It is told that one day the little girl Zahrā’ went to visit her grandmother on her day off. She loved her grandmother very much, who called her Zahrā, and she loved her grandmother’s old house, full of stories and poems, where all loved ones and relatives would gather.
Zahrā’ began wandering through her grandmother’s house until she entered her grandmother’s room quietly and opened her wardrobe. She found her grandmother’s dress and her shawl, embroidered with bright, varied colors, hanging inside the wardrobe. Zahrā’ thought of wearing her grandmother’s beautiful dress and shawl.
And indeed, as she was trying to take them out of the wardrobe, her hand struck a small box, and the box fell to the floor and scattered many buttons. Those buttons began to sparkle and gleam in the room.
Zahrā’ became distressed and confused. At that moment, the kind grandmother entered the room, smiling, and said: “My naughty little Zahrā, you have uncovered the secrets.” Zahrā’ took her grandmother’s hand and said: “I am sorry, Grandmother; I did not mean that.” The grandmother smiled again and said: “Don’t be sad, Zahrā. Let’s gather these buttons.”
While Zahrā’ and her grandmother were gathering the buttons, Zahrā’ asked her grandmother about the secret of keeping those beautiful buttons. The grandmother sighed and replied that each of these buttons has a story. “Look at this one, Zahrā; it’s shiny and small, and look at that other; it’s round and large. This one is wooden, this one is metal, and this one is plastic. I have collected all these buttons in a box to preserve the memories these buttons carry.”
The Secrets of the Buttons:
Zahrā’ asked her grandmother to tell her about the memories of those buttons and their secrets. The grandmother bent slightly, then picked up one of the buttons; its color was bright blue. She told Zahrā’ that this button had fallen from her Aunt Ḥanān’s dress during her engagement and had caught on her shawl when she greeted her with a kiss and embraced her. Then she took a small orange button and said: “This button fell from your Uncle Jamīl’s shirt while he was trying to pick a bunch of grapes from the vineyard of our old house in the city of Al-Khalīl.”
Then she raised a brown button and said: “This is a button from your cousin Bahā’s trousers; it fell from him while he was playing in the courtyard of our house with Diyā’. This is a button from your Aunt Mayṣūn’s blouse; she lost it when she was putting food for the cat Lūlū under the lemon tree. This is a button from our neighbor Jamāl’s coat; it fell from him while he was trying to pick oranges. This is a button from your cousin Dāliyā’s skirt; she lost it while playing hide-and-seek with Dāniyā.”
As for this special button, made of olive wood, I found it in the Jerusalem market. It fell from a person I don’t know, but I wish to meet him to return his button to him. Here, Zahrā’ stopped her grandmother, then took the hem of her grandmother’s dress and asked her: “And you, Grandmother, aren’t you afraid that one day you might lose a button?” The grandmother replied: “No, my little one. My Palestinian dress has no buttons at all.”
Zahrā’ smiled and said: “I understand, Grandmother, and my grandfather’s trousers have a drawstring, not buttons, and his Palestinian keffiyeh has a strip tying one end to the other, also without buttons. How beautiful the Palestinian dress is, Grandmother.”