“I am so-and-so, son of so-and-so. My father died a long time ago and left me at the age of six, penniless, owning nothing of the world’s possessions. My uncle, so-and-so, took charge of me. He was the best of uncles, the most generous and benevolent, and the most compassionate and affectionate. He placed me in a position in his heart that no one before me had ever held, except for his young daughter, who was my age or slightly younger. It was as if he was pleased to see a brother by her side after having wished that from God for a long time, but his wish was not fulfilled. So he took care of me with the same care he gave her. He enrolled us in school on the same day, and I found companionship in her like that of a brother with his sister, and I loved her deeply. In her company, I found happiness and joy that dispelled the sadness that would still revisit my soul from time to time after the loss of my parents. One would never see us except going to school or returning from it, or playing in the courtyard of the house, or exercising in its garden, or gathered in the study room, or conversing in the bedroom, until the day of her veiling came, and she confined herself to her room while I continued my studies.
My heart and her heart had formed a bond of affection that nothing could dissolve except the misfortune of death. I found no pleasure in life except by her side, and I saw no light of happiness except in the dawn of her smile. I would not have preferred all the delights of life and the pleasures of existence over an hour I spent by her side. There was no quality of goodness I wished to see in a young woman—whether of literature, intelligence, forbearance, mercy, chastity, honor, or loyalty—that I did not find in her.”