Irritated
by trivialities,
overwhelmed
by brutality
and innocent suffering,
disappointed
by our own inadequacies –
–in anxiety, confusion and hope
we turn to You.

Pry us loose from our self-absorption
that we might look for You today,
for Your comfort, Your Peace,
Your power, Your direction.

Break the hold
of the posturing, presumptuous
yet finally false powers of this world.

Awaken us to Your magnificence
that we might live in awe
of nothing but You.

Free us, then, from our fears
that we might, at the least,
be courteous to all whom we meet,
and thereby offer
an opening for Your grace.

Day and night I burn gripped by agony, You are the One I need

I find no great joy in being alive; if I cease to exist, I would not grieve,

The only solace I have is your love; You are the One I need

Your love slays lovers; makes them dive into the sea of love

Fills them with the image of God; You are the One I need

Let me drink the wine of love; like Majnun, live in the mountain of hardship,

Day and night, You are my sole concern; You are the one I need

The Sufis seek for friendly conversation; the Akhis look for the hereafter

Majnuns (lovers) seek for their Leylas (beloved); You are the One I need

Even if, at the end, they make me die; And scatter my ashes up to the sky,

My soil would break into this outcry; You are the one I need.

Yunus Emre, the mystic, is my name; Each passing day rouses my flame,

What I desire in both worlds is the same; You are the one I need.

Yunus Emre is a famous sufi poet who lived in Asia Minor in the thirteenth century.

Halima walked into the living room and smiled at what she saw. Ahmet was sitting on the edge of the sofa deeply immersed in a book. He had taken off his shoes on the doormat and dropped his backpack nearby.

Although this wasn’t the first time his love for books had captivated her son-Ahmet had mastered reading two years ago in 2nd grade-Halima couldn’t help wondering about the content of this book that had kidnapped him. She placed his shoes on the rack, stored his backpack in the closet, and sat by his side sneaking a peek into the pages he was reading. She realized that it was an elementary school version of the Guinness Book of World Records.

As her son turned the pages, she saw pictures of the tallest man on earth, of the woman with longest fingernails, of the man with longest ear hair, of the woman with the most body piercings.

The book also displayed pictures of a man who pulled a plane, of a man who held 10 rattle snakes in his mouth by their tails, of a man who balanced a car on his head, of a man who ate 36 cockroaches in one minute, of a man capable of producing the loudest burp-you name it.

Reading the “fun facts” beside each picture, Halima was overtaken by a desperate wish to censor her son’s book selection from the school library. But how possible is that? As she felt at a loss for the right words to begin a conversation without triggering objection, Ahmet looked up and misjudging her interest in the book, he asked genuinely:

“Mom, which record should I break?”

Caught off guard, Halima rummaged through the pages with a let-me-see pose and decided to turn the question around:

“Which one would you like to break?”

“I think I could grow really looong nails,” Ahmet answered stretching the adjective.

“Goodness gracious!” sighed Halima trying to conceal her repulse. She looked at his face and resisting the temptation to snatch the book from him, she spoke softly.

“Ok, my son. Let’s say you broke the longest nails record. Who would benefit from it? You would spend your life growing your nails and depending on others for your basic needs, right?

“Your name would appear in this book,” she continued trying not to sound offensive, “you may earn some money, too, and then what?” Halima fell silent to let her question sink in.

Seeing Ahmet inconsolably disappointed, she switched into a softer tone so that Ahmet would not feel guilty for expressing his childish wish.

“The achievements you read in this book may look cool and fun, but are they bringing any good to anyone?

Ahmet, half-convinced, shook his head.

“Yet, there is a record I want you to break, my son,” Halima said, ending the silence with a new excitement that caused his eyes to shine with interest.

“Really?” asked Ahmet without disguising his thrill.

“Sure. I want you to break a record in …”-here her voice turned low and soft, almost into a whisper, as if confiding a secret or waiting for him to fill the blank-“… good deeds.”

Ahmet looked at her in disbelief. What kind of record is that?

“Yes, my sweetheart, there is such a record, and there are infinite ways to achieve it,” she said pausing to collect examples. “For instance, you can be a very trustworthy person who has never told even the tiniest lie.”

“Wow, that’s hard.” Ahmet said, the very thought making him blush.

“Yes it is,” Halima agreed. “But you can try your best.”

Halima decided that she should suggest more appealing options to her hard-to-convince son. “How about being a very generous person who donates all his wealth to help the less fortunate?” Halima continued. Ahmet couldn’t figure out how he could do that. His own allowance never seemed to be enough.

“You can open schools in areas of the world where people can’t even write their names.” Ahmet shot her a disbelieving look, “Can’t even write their names?”

“Think of a scientist who finds a cure to a deadly disease,” Halima went on slowly picking up the ideas along the way. “Imagine being a firefighter who risks his life to assist others in times of disaster. What do you say? Wouldn’t that be nice?” Ahmet nodded with a grin. He still had his toy firetruck as a keepsake.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Halima added. “You can be an influential leader who stands for justice and peace.”

“Like Martin Luther King?” asked Ahmet, as elated as a student who has found the right answer before time has elapsed. He had visited Dr. King’s home in one of his social studies field trip.

Halima nodded with an assuring smile and continued, “How about being a super environmentalist who keeps our planet clean.”

Halima purposefully paused to see his reaction at her last words. Environmental awareness was one of the mission goals in his school. As she expected, a sparkle of recognition shone in his eyes which poured into words in no time.

“Yeah, I can fight against pollution and preserve the natural habitats for endangered animals,” he said very confidently.

Halima hugged Ahmet and smiled. Of all aspirations, no wonder this one had touched the cord of his animal loving heart.

“Throughout history,” Halima continued in a lecturing tone, “many men and women of great integrity have made an impact on the world. Some of their names are written in books, some not. Yet believe me my son that no goodness, even as small as mustard seed, ever perishes.”

As Ahmet was trying to figure out how a goodness can be as small as a mustard seed, his mom brought his train of thoughts to a halt. She took him gently by his shoulders and asked out of the blue: “Do you want to know a hero of our times?”

As soon as Ahmet nodded, they headed to the computer in his room. Ahmet pulled up a chair and sat nearby as his mom typed an unfamiliar name into a Google search.

Haji (Hacý) Kemal Erimez. Ahmet could tell right away that the name was Turkish. Born in USA, to Turkish parents, he was fluent in both languages.

In 0.19 seconds 5,200 search results came up arousing his curiosity. Ahmet watched a 45-min-Turkish video in silence trying desperately to match the pieces of information together and process them in his little brain. He wouldn’t be surprised if his mom asked him to summarize the video content, out of habit of course. His teacher did that too.

“O.K.,”-he thought to himself trying to make mental notes,-“this uncle, called Haji Kemal, spent all his money for the opening of three schools in Turkey and five in Tajikistan. If only I had a paper and pen to take notes,” Ahmet wished.

He thought of asking his mom to pause the video. Then he dismissed the thought altogether because he saw on the screen an army tank strolling through some dusty streets accompanied by soldiers carrying guns.

All ears, Ahmet listened as the video host explained that Haji Kemal not only spent his senior years tending to the needs of schools instead of retiring and relaxing with his grandchildren, he also refused to leave Tajikistan during a civil war that broke in 1992.

Ahmet couldn’t figure out who fought against whom. Despite the urge from Tajik authorities to leave the country, Haji Kemal and other Turkish teachers had very bravely decided to stay and defend the school if necessary. Apparently this had made a deep impression on local authorities, some of whom Ahmet heard mention Haji Kemal with great respect in their interviews, referring to him as “Ata,” which as mom explained to Ahmet meant father in the Tajik language and interestingly in Turkish, too.

Later Ahmet watched a group of Tajik students happily smiling at the camera, showing off their gold medals that they had earned for their country in international math and science Olympiads.

Then the video showed parts of Haji Kemal’s funeral in 1997.

Thousands of people stood in rows under the rain to pay their respects to a great man-as the video host put it. In tears, one Tajik student promised that he and his friends would never forget Haji Ata and that they would work hard to fulfill his dream: serving Tajikistan to prosperity.

At this moment Ahmet noticed that his mom was crying too. She looked back at him and trying to smile she said, “See Ahmet, these Tajik students have found their higher goals in life. That’s a good record to break.”

Ahmet was overwhelmed by a strange apprehension that he was missing some important point in all this discussion. “Haji Kemal amca,” Ahmet thought, instinctively replacing the word uncle with its equivalent in Turkish, “is a very good person, no doubt about it. In fact, he looks like my grandfather with his white hair and beard.” But what makes him a hero? Why do all these people admire him? Ahmet wondered. Realizing that the video, which had ended moments ago, had no more to offer, he decided to ask his mom.

“Mom, why is opening schools so important?”

Halima stood silent for a couple of seconds to think of the right shortcut to simplify this complex topic.

“Long ago,” she said, “I came across an inspiring saying that I think answers your question in a nice way. I don’t remember who said it, but anyway the quote went like this:

“Whoever opens a good school closes a prison.” By the way Ahmet fixed his gaze on her, Halima could tell that her curious son was perplexed by the school-prison link.

“Lack of education leads to ignorance, which in turn leads to poverty, and poverty most of the time leads to many unfortunate troubles for the individual or the society. Do you know what the word society means?” she asked to double check.

“Mom!” Ahmet protested in a tone that gave a hint that he was either amused or upset by such an easy question. “I am studying and comparing the Greek and American Democracies for my social studies this year!”

“Oh, so sorry to assume,” Halima smiled at his sensitive scholarly pride and continued. “Sound education-that is, nurturing of the mind and the heart-is a foolproof way to build a better, peaceful world.”

Ahmet, still not sure whether he understood everything right, felt a peculiar desire nonetheless to go back in time, meet Haji Kemal amca and kiss his hands, a typical Turkish gesture of showing respect.

Halima, looking at the digital clock on the computer screen, realized it was getting late and got up to set the table for dinner.

“Ahmet!” she called to shake him from his daydreaming, “Why don’t you start training for your record breaking by helping me in the kitchen right away?”

Ahmet, smiling, stood up promptly and, as erect as a soldier before the commander, duplicated the response of obedience, “Yes, ma’am!”

Halima laughed at his wittiness and patting him on the shoulder she said,

“Then go wash your hands, my champion.”

Mirkena Ozer had her major in Turkish language and literature. She lives in Atlanta, Georgia.

Dear Peter, in order for you to understand me better, keep in mind a basic principle about the functioning of living organisms-they all depend on energy use. If no energy enters a living system, then no metabolic activity, no life function can be carried out. Think about a car without fuel. No matter how great the car is, it simply won’t work without any fuel in the tank. The human body is no different. Plants and animal products which people consume as food provide the body with fuel. However, you cannot make use of the energy in nutrients in the form in which you take them in. They need to undergo a process so that they become usable fuel for us, like crude oil being refined into gasoline to make a car work. This is roughly what my duty is. Without my functioning, you would be devoid of the energy to move a finger, and eventually die. Do you understand now how important a set of pipes I am? You just think that I look like a soft and hollow canal and misjudge me as simple. Well, I know that I don’t have such complex parts as the heart, lungs, and kidneys, but I’m created as a perfect work of art in plain design.

Although the hoses you use for watering your garden wear out and break in a relatively short time, my walls made of four layers keep functioning through a lifetime without any holes unless I contract a disease like cancer. My outer layer consists of a durable connective tissue, the next one consists of two sets-one horizontally and one vertically laid-of straight muscles, the next layer under that consists of glands spread in a soft connective tissue, and the innermost layer is the epithelial mucosa where the actual absorption takes place.

Now, let’s come to how I achieve digestion, one of your body’s vital activities. Actually, there is no place for me to take any pride in it; I’m just doing as I am ordered. Anyway, the complex processes occurring within my simple-looking walls are just fascinating! Every one of my cells producing the particular enzymes to break up each nutrient is like a separate factory. Some of these enzymes break proteins into different levels of peptides, some break the peptides into amino acids, some break fats into fat acids and glycerin, whereas some break carbohydrates down into glucose. All of these particular enzymes have their sub-branches within themselves. For example the enzymes breaking down fructose (fruit sugar), lactose (milk sugar), and starch are all different. In order for the enzymes to be effective, my inside needs to have the right pH level; the enzymes work in very sensitive conditions. To give you an idea, the enzymes in the stomach-which happens to be the second station the nutrients are destined for before they come to me-work in an acidic environment (pH: 2.5–3). In my case however, basic fluids are secreted and this strong acidity is neutralized for my enzymes to work.

My overall length is around 8.5 meters from the first entrance at the stomach to the last exit. The small intestine is nearly 7 meters long and the remaining 1.5-meter section is the large intestine. Although the small intestine is the longest section of the digestive tract, it is still called small since it is smaller in diameter than the large intestine.

The small intestine is also divided into three sections. The very short (25–30cm) and relatively thicker part right after the stomach is the duodenum. Bile-which works like detergent and facilitates breaking up fats-produced by the liver and digestive enzymes from the pancreas enter the duodenum. Thus, the nutrients are digested one step further and pass on to the second section (jejunum) and then to the third (ileum). You cannot easily tell apart these final two sections. As blood circulation is more intense in the second section, this section is more reddish and the contractions here are faster and stronger. The third section is narrower and has thinner walls. The blood circulation here is relatively lower and the movements are more limited. The thin membrane of connective tissue (mesentery) around me which attaches me to the abdomen wall and prevents me from knotting up is relatively fatty in this third section.

My most vital parts are the villi-tiny nipples covering the curly surface of my inner wall like a carpet. Shaped like the fingers of a glove, villi yield an enormously large inner surface. They contain a net of capillaries and lymph canals. In addition to the glands secreting the enzymes to break down nutrients, the secretion of certain glands protects me against the destructive effect of the stomach acid. Some cells secrete mucus for lubrication and protection of the passing nutrients. As some cells of the villi secrete digestive enzymes, some of my cells absorb the nutrients broken down until the final phase and pass them to the bloodstream.

Peter, how can some guys mistake such a splendid mechanism as a work of unconscious nature? What I’m telling you about is a manifestation of such great knowledge and might that it leaves you spellbound. I know the characteristics of foods, I know about the other organs’ needs, I adjust various enzymes and an absorption system, I fit them in a limited space… In addition, I do all these in the most ideal way, without any waste or flaw! C’mon Peter, can all these happen by themselves? Now, if I were to start telling everyone about the absorption mechanism in detail, they would probably see those cells as divine beings! The One who assigned special carrier molecules and a system for every nutrient molecule, has placed two transfer systems as blood and lymph pathways in every single one of those millions of villi! The blood pathway passes amino acids, water and salts into the blood directly, whereas the lymphatic pathway absorbs fats to pass them to the blood indirectly. After absorption, the nutrients become a property of the body and they are carried in the bloodstream to all the cells waiting for them in need.

Well, what about the waste then? Since everything you eat is not beneficial and usable, and some things are even toxic, they should be disposed of as soon as possible. The unabsorbed remnants are still too watery to be disposed of; sending them away as they are will be a waste of water and minerals. But don’t worry, everything is perfectly planned! Now the large intestine comes on duty. In this 1.5-meter section, the water of the waste and certain minerals are absorbed, and the waste solidifies. The large intestine is also divided into three sub-sections. The pouch connected to the junction of the small and large intestines is named the cecum and there’s the appendix at its end. This end sometimes festers and you have to have it removed in an appendectomy. Now, there’s this made-up story that the appendix was once longer since your ancestors only ate plants, that it has evolved into a shorter form for I now eat more meat, so on and so forth… Bah! Nothing is created in vain, Peter. If it didn’t have a duty, it simply wouldn’t be created. Only after some time did it dawn on them, after researchers proved that it is so necessary, that as a lymphoid organ, rich in blood vessels, it produces antibodies to fight the germs which somehow make their way into me.

The rest of the large intestine is the colon and the rectum. The mucosa covering my inner surface is rather smooth. It secretes mucus to facilitate the removal of waste. In addition, useful bacteria are made to work in abundance in the large intestine for your needs. These bacteria synthesize the group B vitamins like B12, thiamin, and riboflavin, along with vitamin K. You see how all the processes are carried out so splendidly? If it weren’t for vitamin K, your blood would fail to coagulate, and the slightest injury to your blood vessels would kill you. Could you ever have imagined that what looks to you like a sewage canal could produce vitamins of vital significance? Your Creator has infinite wisdom.

Peter, now you may wonder how the acts of this organ which resembles a long hose are regulated, how the nutrients inside are propelled, and then thrown out. To put it briefly, the “willful” part of your brain does not even know about it. Indeed, if it knew, it would be constantly busy with me and unable to do anything else.

Under the control of the autonomous nervous system, the straight muscles of my walls gradually contract in waves-this is squeezing act is called peristalsis. The nerve fibers connected to me fall into two basic categories-sympathetic and parasympathetic. As the sympathetic fibers pressure me to slow down, parasympathetic fibers stimulate me to act. Thus, I try to keep a balanced functioning between these two opposite effects. When the waste material I propel this way assumes a state to be disposed of, it reaches the rectum, and when the walls here strain, I make a natural call to you that I need to get rid of garbage. This is the step where your will has a partial interference.

Colon cancer, which troubles many people today, appears in this final section. The major reason is consuming too much meat and fatty foods, lack of movement, and leading a stressful life. When these are combined, I fail to function properly. If you want to help me at that, you should consume fiber-rich foods such as fruit and vegetables, and also lead a peaceful life. My web of nerves is amazingly rich and complex. Therefore, I am sensitive to nervous changes. If you feel down or sad, and if you suffer too much stress, I begin to go into spasms. Then I fail to dispose of waste, the toxic material inside me begins to damage my inner walls and eventually increases your cancer risk. Therefore, you’d better take up the habit of a glass of warm water when you get up in the morning, and try to have regular meals at the same times of the day. Most importantly, always have fresh green vegetables on your table, reduce meat intake… and it would be great if you could afford to consume olive oil rather than any other.

Hey, wait! I was about to forget the most important point. If you don’t have any peace of mind, all of these will be useless. This doesn’t mean that you will never worry; after all, this world is a testing ground and you are a human being like anyone else. However, if you give in to troubles and get overcome by feelings like panic, fatigue, and hopelessness, then my functioning will be upset. So, troubles faced with active patience and effort without giving up hope do not harm me much.

Peter, I do not wish you to wait until you see colon cancer patients disposing of waste through a hole in their belly into a plastic bag before you feel grateful for the blessings you enjoy. Actually, maybe I have told you at most a tenth of what I know about myself. Anyway, I think even this much will give you an idea of what a work of art I am. Thanks for listening to me, Peter!

Irfan Yilmaz is a professor of biology at Dokuz Eylül University, Izmir, Turkey.