If I were a good artist and had a block of stone, a hammer and chisel, I would carve a beautiful woman.

I would make a woman with an altruistic and luminous face. I would carve her with long hair down to her elbows. Her face would have big, black eyes with a warm smile, two dimples on both sides of her blushed cheeks.

I would add a few creases as well. Some wrinkles on her forehead would never diminish her beauty. Each one of these lines represents the patience, perseverance, hope, and struggle one faces in different parts of life’s path. I would create an appearance that always is strong, malleable, and valuable in others’ lives. Her eyes would reflect the happiness and love when someone sees her.

I would also carve a long beautiful dress with roses. She would sit on a stone in a garden with her hand raised to feed her child, caressing the child with kindness and enthusiasm. These hands are the hands of a mother. A beautiful woman, this is the face of my mother.

A gift

I would carve a ring on her finger that shows a strong relationship; the ring is a bond of love between my mother and my father. It represents a love that created our family. I would like to carve my mother’s face because I love her smile. Her smile can melt ice with its warmth. She is not just a mother to me. She is my pal, friend, and companion. She always supports and encourages me to live and she guides me.

I would create her face in a way that would show all the feelings I have for her in my heart. The nights that she cried when I was sick, the days she fed me with her hands, the moments that she was waiting when I came home late.

I would picture all of these perfect moments when I carve the stone.

When I make this piece of art I would give it as a gift to my mother when I go home to Afghanistan. I would present this gift with happiness, love, and kisses to her hands and face. I would thank her for all her kindness and patience and I would say, “I love you, Mom, forever.” 

By Rahela

Photo: Majid Saeedi/Getty Images AsiaPac. An Afghan woman looks at ancient sculptures on display in the Kabul Museum August 4, 2011. The statues, which had been destroyed by Islamists during the Taliban regime, were repaired after the collapse of the hardliners in 2001. Portions of the collection have been exhibited in seven countries.