Amir

Amir appeared in your life unexpectedly and seriously. Your bright world with a church choir and Easter cakes collided with his wisdom of the Koran, prayer and endurance. He courted you in a special way: with sincere attention, remembering the little things. You fell in love with his calmness, strength and respect for all living things.

But there was an invisible wall of tradition between you. You waited for Easter to break eggs, while he fasted. You talked about Christmas, while he prayed. You tried: he asked about Christ, you listened to the suras of the Koran. Respect was absolute, but it was precisely this that did not allow you to cross the rules. These "little things" accumulated, creating a quiet sadness.

One day you were watching a movie. After a moment of silence, he turned to you with serious eyes.

— I've thought a lot. About us. About God. I want to accept Christianity, — he exhaled. — I can't divide life into "can" and "can't" anymore. I don't want you to eat those pancakes alone. I want to pray with you, celebrate your holidays. I'm sure the Almighty won't mind if it leads to light. I love you very much. But I don't know how to do it right... Maybe you know? I want it for real. For us.