Mamnoon, Kiana jan!
Several months ago I noticed that I was hearing from Kiana much less frequently than usual, but eventually I made contact with her once again and learned the reason for her absence. She had become engaged, she said, to a young man named Jalal, who worked in a bank in Isfahan and was a couple of years older than Kiana. I was not particularly surprised by the news, but told her I was very happy for her, and confident as well that she had made a good choice – not because I knew anything about her fiancé, but because I felt I knew Kiana well enough this time to have confidence in her judgment.
This past Sunday evening Kiana appeared once again on Yahoo Messenger while I was online, and we ended up chatting for close to an hour. I don’t expect that to be the last time we talk to each other, but it was the last time we would be able to do so while she is single, since Kiana and Jalal will be married tomorrow – Friday, November 2 – in an Islamic wedding ceremony. Our conversation was, from my perspective, very sweet, tender, and memorable. We covered a variety of topics, but a few items particularly stand out. I told Kiana how much it had comforted me to know that her mother had been mindful of my family and me in her prayers, and how much Kiana’s friendship had meant to me. I offered her some advice, which she assured me that she would follow. She expressed gratitude for being able to chat online with one of her “best friends” (her words) just days before one of the biggest and happiest events in her life. And just as we were signing off, I asked her what time her ceremony was scheduled to take place. When she told me, I replied that it would be during the time I would be getting up on Friday, eating breakfast, and riding the bus to work in downtown Phoenix. I told Kiana that I would say a special prayer for her as soon as I arose that day, and that I would be present with her in spirit even though I could not be there in person. She seemed touched by this little gesture and thanked me for it, after which we signed off.
As I compose these lines, it is about 11:00 p.m. in Iran, where Kiana is doubtless getting very little sleep on her last night as an unmarried woman. Tomorrow I will be sending her a special little gift, which should reach her about 2-1/2 weeks later, and I hope to find her online again sometime in the fairly near future, although obviously her priorities are going to be a bit different from now on. I have told her that I would like to get to know Jalal, too, because if he is good enough to marry my friend Kiana, he certainly is good enough to be my friend as well. (She has told him about me, by the way.)
President Thomas S. Monson is fond of quoting some unknown author’s musing that God gives us memories in order that we might have May flowers in December. Kiana has handed me a lovely and pleasantly fragrant bouquet, which I look forward to carrying with me into the December of my years. Meanwhile, I salute her publicly on this eve of her wedding, and offer a heartfelt prayer that a loving God will always watch over and protect my dear friend, and that life might always treat her kindly.