When you lie down, you will not be afraid;

when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet."

-Proverbs 3:24

I have always believed that there was something powerful about the break of dawn, the promise of something new, something that has never happened before. The day would bring new lives into the world, and it would still arrive even though there would be those who would never see its majesty again. I also believe men have the profound desire to know what the day would bring, what unknown was written for this particular day, everything which we are powerless to control.

It has never ceased to be a magical part of the day for me. Even now, looking out over this God-forsaken part of the desert, I calmly await it. I enjoy the solitude and quiet the desert offers, the peacefulness it brings me before the others are stirring and preparing for the day. It is at dawn that I would gather my thoughts and confirm my plans for the upcoming day.

It is a ritual I've done for quite some time. I would frequently greet the dawn when I was home, before all this madness descended upon the world. I would enjoy rising early to gaze out over the countryside, waiting for the sun to first show itself; first as a small sliver, then as a golden orb, feeling its light and warmth upon my body. I preferred being alone for this powerful moment, not wanting to share it with anyone else, not even my cherished loved ones.

Of course, back home, I would be looking at hillsides covered with green trees, dusted with snow on those frosty winter mornings when I would stir early. Sometimes, I would seek the rising sun as I stood on the terrace surrounded by my mother's potted geraniums. Other times, I would rise early to hike up the steep hills so I would be at their peak when the sun touched me as I was surrounded by the sharp scent of the forest.

But there is a power and beauty about the desert which I have grown to appreciate over the years. People believe the desert is barren and without life, but I have always known differently. If it was so barren, then why have men fought so desperately for it over the years and bled so much blood into it? Even now, they were fighting for it, not far from where I was standing. Countries from divergent places were converging to stake their claim on this desolate place, and no doubt, would continue to do so far into the future.

The desert had already taken a part of my soul; it had claimed it even before the war. I had learned its language, studied its culture and had known its women. I had come to believe it would always be with me, engulfing my life along with all of those others who fight with and against me. It is what she had predicted, and so far she had not been wrong, not in the least.

It was at dawn that my thoughts would most frequently drift to her, to revisit what she had said and pray not to catch the elusive smell of jasmine. At first I disbelieved her, but then, over time, I realized I was the one who was mistaken. It was my arrogance and pride which led me to doubt her words.

Over time, I grew to have faith in those words she spoke to me on that fateful night, so long ago, so many years in the past. She had been right about everything: my friends, and the others, those men from so far away, who had come to share the war in the desert with me. And most importantly, she had been precise about the difficult choices I would be forced to make and the impact they would have on my life.