The Story of 'The Dream of Siriah'

Once upon a time there was a King,

His name was Heart and he lived in an enchanted castle, on a beautiful island, in the middle of the sea. He was a very strong and strong-willed man and did not like wearing royal clothes. He was a very generous and exuberant person, not very patient and authoritarian.

In his castle he brought all his subjects into line. Every day upon his arrival in the great hall of the throne, the men in his service took turns asking the most varied questions:

“Good morning Your Majesty, would you like a coffee?”

“Good morning Your Majesty, have you already planned your errands for the day?”

“Your Majesty, I wanted to greet you and report the news.”

King Heart was not a man of many words, he was solitary and often taciturn. He had a somewhat gruff look, but he made up for it with such a good look.

When someone contradicted him, it wasn't pleasant to be around him, the screams could be heard right up to the gate of his "infinite" Kingdom, but he enjoyed everyone's respect, because he had the gift of reading people's souls.

He refused the cape, the scepter and the crown and preferred more modest clothes to dedicate himself to his favorite hobby: the vegetable garden.

He had a fit physique, lots of muscles, and one above all: a big heart!

The Heart King shared his castle with his beloved Queen, a Western woman who had the appearance of an Arab woman: she was brunette, with long curly hair. The Queen had a beautiful, disarming smile for everyone, her presence was enough to spread joy and good humor. She was loved by all the children in the castle, her sweet and deep gaze revealed a very sensitive soul.

The Queen was always attentive to human suffering, unfortunately as a child she had experienced pain by losing her beloved father during a long and bloody battle.

This is the Kingdom of King Heart, few rules to respect in his court: consistency, loyalty, honesty. King Heart was known for the valor of his humanitarian actions.

One day a messenger arrived at the castle with a letter:

“We invite His Majesty, King Heart to our lands, to visit us. We would be happy to welcome you among our people with humility and the hope that your intervention can bring peace among our people. Confident in an affirmative response, we anxiously await an eagerly awaited response.”

It was an invitation for solidarity, a request for help.

King Heart could not remain deaf to such a prayer and had that letter answered immediately, ensuring his presence and thus accepting that heartfelt request for intervention.

He carefully prepared his suitcase, put in it a handful of earth taken from his castle, a photo of his beloved Queen, a few clothes, a roasted chicken leg for a mid-journey snack, he arranged for all the winged horses of his kingdom to be get ready, wash their coats and polish their manes and tails. The best men at court were selected, strong, trained, dynamic men, ready for the sacrifice requested by their lord. King Heart knew that this trip was not a holiday, the evening before his departure he ordered that every man was free to stay at home with his family to hold his wives and play with his children.

"We are ready?" Shouted the King astride his winged horse.

“Yessss! “His men responded in chorus, greeted by their loved ones.

It was summer and it was very hot, the sea was blue and the lawn was lush, the air smelled of violets.

At dawn on that day of the week of that unknown year, King Heart and his men left.

It was a long journey and after crossing seas and mountains, they finally arrived at their destination.

It looked like a lunar landscape. King Heart knew those places, but for many of his men it was the first time.

It was an arid land, the mountains were the color of desert sand, a place very different from the places they came from. It was very hot during the day and cold at night. In that Middle Eastern country, destroyed by war, the houses were reduced to piles of rubble, ruined, the roads unpaved and full of debris. The locals were scared and wary. Other evil and unscrupulous men had destroyed everything, but not the dignity in which they lived all their pain.

Women and children wandered the streets, stopped in the gutted neighborhoods, spent the time chatting barefoot, and playing games of chance.

It is said that at a certain point, King Heart, for no apparent reason, suddenly stopped his entourage, dismounted from his horse and bent down to pick a flower typical of that place, a Jericho rose which apparently was indicated as the Resurrection plant. This gesture aroused amazement in all those present, including the local people who were conquered by his noble soul.

King Heart and his men were welcomed with trust, they were given hospitality and dedicated a spartan but clean and decorous home. There was no four-poster bed and rose petals on the carpet, but the people were friendly and helpful.

The air smelled of cumin and clove pepper. We ate legume soups and hot unleavened bread.

The day after his arrival the King asked to visit the place and visit the women and children, bringing them some gifts. He was saddened by the vision of such desolation, he understood the pain of those people, he comforted his men because they were caught unprepared for that scenario.

Walk walk, at a certain point a singular episode happens.

A little girl approaches the King without any fear and tries to attract his attention, grabbing an edge of his cloth with her hand.

When His Majesty lowered his gaze he was captivated by the vision of an enchanting creature. He had long curly hair disheveled by the wind, large dark eyes, a proud bearing, a disarming smile. He was wearing a fabric dress, it must have been made of light cotton, and a light veil on his head to protect himself from the sand.

The King was fascinated by the little girl, she looked so much like his Queen to the point of looking like mother and daughter thousands of kilometers apart.

“Hello little one,” said the King, “How are you?” added the little girl smiled.

King Heart looked around for his parents but didn't see anyone nearby.

“Where is your mother?” asked the King.

The little girl didn't answer, she looked down, she seemed to have understood, but she didn't speak the same language.

The little girl had neither a mother nor a father, but lived with an uncle, who must not have loved her very much.

The King then decided to resort to the language "of Love" to overcome the problem of incommunicability.

"How old are you?" asked King Heart.

And the little girl made a “three” sign with her fingers.

"You are small!" exclaimed King Heart “but you look like a little woman!”

Then he took some water and offered it to the little girl. The little girl drank it all in one sip and thanked her with a smile. She had very white teeth that stood out on her amber-skinned face.

King Heart then took a candy and handed it over. The little girl looked wide and decisively grabbed the candy, understanding that he could trust that man.

From that moment a very strong bond was born between those two human jewels.

That strong man had been conquered by the graces of a creature so severely mutilated by fate. For the king, it immediately became of primary importance to visit his favorite, his visit had become a daily commitment from which he could no longer escape.

The meetings took place more or less in the same way, almost as if they had become a ritual. Every day, at the same time and under the same circumstances.

The little girl had learned that at every meeting there was something for her: water, sweets, chocolate, pens. King Heart gave her water, made sure she drank it in peace without the pressure of the other children, then waited to see that she kept her sweets and chocolates in her habit and finally gave her the gifts to take to her friends . The latter, frightened, remained one step behind and waited.

The gift-giving ritual went on for days.

Those gifts were obviously just King Heart's ploy to get close to the little girl and make sure she was well and didn't lack anything.

One day the King passed through the village, an unplanned route, nor was he supposed to meet the little girl, so he didn't bring anything with him, neither water, nor sweets...

In the center of the village the children stopped suddenly listening to the roar of the approaching winged horses. The little girl immediately went to the center of the square and stood proudly in front of King Heart's winged horse.

The King was sorry that he had no gifts to deliver and tried to explain it to the little girl, who at that precise moment, regardless of water, chocolate and sweets, threw herself into King Heart's strong arms and hugged him tightly, making him feel all the his affection. His delicate and small hands began to caress the face of the fearless man, who for a moment closed his eyes and felt the caresses and love of his beloved Queen. He was lost in that beautiful creature that had made its way into his heart.

Her sweetness and her deep gaze reminded him of his great Love.

The King began to love that little girl and every day he tried to know something more about her:

"Who do you live with?" the king asked the little girl.

The little girl with a hand sign indicated her uncle, who didn't seem to appreciate the bond that was being created between his niece and that man from far away.

The uncle was such a mean man.

King Heart, who was among other things a perceptive person, quickly made the decision to speak with the local authorities to adopt that child's love. He had understood that she was not safe there and she could not accept the idea of ​​returning, leaving her alone abandoned to her fate, while bad men continued to destroy her land and her home.

He was sure that the Queen of his heart would be very happy to welcome such a unique and precious little girl.

One day, however, the ritual was interrupted and the little girl was not there during the usual rounds. This worried the king greatly.

He then decided to look for her and ordered not to leave that place until she was found. He called her, looked for her, walked for a long time, asked for help... he couldn't rest...

No trace of the little girl, no one knew anything, and no one had seen her, King Heart, undaunted, despite being tired and with severe pain in his legs, continued his searches, he was as if he had gone mad, he no longer even listened to his trusted men who invited him to rest and not go around looking for it alone.

Only one thought in his mind: understanding why the little girl wasn't at the appointment that day, what had happened, who or what was holding her back and keeping her away from his arms.

Hours of anguish passed, the tension grew and the feeling that something had happened to her little daughter increased.

The King did not stop, increasingly stronger and more insistent he felt a great pressure in his chest accompanied by the conviction of a tragic epilogue.

After exhausting hours of research and waiting, the shocking discovery and 

The Silence

This is perhaps a fairy tale or a true story.

The king discovered that his little girl was called Syrianah.

Syriah today is an angel child of incomparable strength.

He listens, smiles, cries, plays, walks hand in hand with the Queen of Heart's father, who has now become his sweet grandfather. Always present and magically fluent she communicates through music.

She really likes the sea and adores children. She made good, she cries when she sees the horrors and rejoices with happiness in the face of love. She is naughty like all the little ones, mischievous like a monkey and very, very cuddly.

I feel his hand stroking my hair and his hugs and kisses. I listen to the tinkling of stones when I create jewellery.

Taliban in expressing all her dissent and rebellion in the face of malice, betrayal, lies, manifests her essence made of light and energy in a way that only a being as special as her could do.

It is vital, pure energy, because Syriah is!
The Re Cuore project, which was drastically interrupted, nevertheless came to fruition:

His Dream and Syriah's Dream came true.

The "little girl" as we call her is the Sun that illuminates our days, the star that illuminates our dreams, the rhythm that governs our heart, she is like this because she is always with us like a note of color in our life, because Syriah chose for herself to live in the kingdom of King Heart alongside "her dad" and "her mom" Queen of Heart, thus becoming their Princess of Love.

“There are nights that I wake up and find her sitting next to me, with her fingers in my hair, ready to reassure us that she is fine, that she is happy in the light.” [ Re Cuore ]

Syriah is the essence of my jewels, an Angel that cannot only be mine or her beloved father's. Syriah belongs to everyone!

The Ritual

Now close your eyes, caress the precious little angel with your hand, listen to your soul and you will see that it is not "just" a jewel, between your fingers you have our little girl, look with the eyes of your heart and you will be able to see her, that is where he smiles at you with his wonderful eyes and takes your night dreams by the hand, the most beautiful dreams to lead them into reality.

No surprise has a more magical effect than knowing we are loved and Syriah loves us!!!!

I thank all those who supported and supported me in this project... of the heart.

I thank my Great Love Giovanni, my "King Heart" for having "given" me the fairy tale of Syrianah and having fought with me personally so that my dream would come true, I thank him for "Believing in me" despite the adversities.
Dedicated to all the people who take the side of Good and who respond to wickedness with the energy of creativity and Beauty, understood in its deepest meaning.
“Good calls good and happiness always multiplies by itself.” [C.W.]

 

Vanna Netti