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Mulberries and Chador
- Michigan State University Press
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135 Mulberries and Chador Farzaneh Milani She would spread her chador under the mulberry tree, and gently hit the branches with a long pole. Sitting on the edge of her cotton chador I thought my grandmother was a magician. Giddy with joy I’d watch the mulberries drift and dance like fattened snowflakes into my cupped receiving hands. Harder, grandma, I would plead, hit harder, and she’d laugh, and say, “We can’t hurt pregnant trees,” and twirl her wand into its blizzard of decades, oceans I’ve yet to travel beyond the hem of her mulberry-studded dreams. ...