I remember when I was seven
and you weren’t here,
I envied a friend who had as sister.
I remember when I was four shy of eleven,
and you came here
I thought you would be baby forever.
A week after you first saw the sun,
our family named you Hanan.
Ask mommy we almost called you Gufran.
I remember when you turned one,
your chubby face was always brown.
You were a queen bereft of a crown.
I remember when you were four,
your baby grins were never-seen-before.
When you showed your face happiness came to the fore.
Fast forward you turned nine,
you were growing and all fine
and your face never forwent it’s shine.
