Written by: Youssef Rizk – Beneficiary Services Coordinator.

He entered my office; at the time I was sitting in my desk engrossed with some of the papers stacked in front of me. He greeted me in a very weak Arabic language that was almost incomprehensible. I raised my eyes to see a dark-skinned young man. From his attire I could tell that he comes from an African country.

He pointed to the file in his hand and started talking. We used every possible way to understand each other. Yet, one thing did not need translation or much of an explanation: the sadness that appeared in his eyes… the sadness that was telling the whole story.

He told me that he had been married for many years, but they had not had a son. He had tried to seek cure for himself and his wife but could not bear the expensive treatment costs. I took his papers and he left. Then I started the standard procedures for a new beneficiary. Later on, the case was referred to the hospital.

Five months or a little more passed as a flash of light. The phone rang and it was that young African at the other end of the call. He spoke to me and just said one sentence… in broken yet eloquent words: “Thank God… madam pregnant.”

His voice and words reflected how happy and joyful he was. In fact, it was a very happy news even for me. I congratulated him and the short call was over.

Through the same door he had entered more than nine months ago, that same young man entered again. This time he was carrying neither papers nor a file in his hands. He was carrying a beautiful newborn baby. The joy was indescribable. I quickly got up to him to look at what was once the dream of that young man.

“He looks like you,” I said to him smiling, but he did not understand me. I tried to explain to him, to no avail… I laughed and he laughed.

He told me many words, some of which I could understand, and others needed a translator. There was one thing that did not need translation… that overwhelming joy in his eyes that summarized the whole story