A man with a golden tooth that glittered when he spoke released them into the garden. They jumped out, flapping their wings, and immediately pecked the ground for anything to eat. At night, they shared the shed with the goat. From the day of his arrival, the rooster changed the rhythm of our mornings. He was up at dawn and woke everyone with him. My father liked the rooster’s call because it helped him perform his morning prayers on time. Father prayed five times a day. He would spread a tiny rug that had a drawing of a mosque on it, stand up facing in the direction of Mecca, and then bow to God, kneeling and leaning forward until his forehead touched the ground. That was the moment my brothers, sister, and I liked to jump on his back. Then he would laugh and raise his voice but never stop praying. We knew he wouldn’t because he had told us that during prayer one steps inside the hand of God. I felt like we were climbing inside the hand of God with him. The rooster continued his calls long after Father’s prayers were over.
