SNOWDROP

The selfless village teacher pushed Iraz out of harm's way.

The avalanche swallowed her young body beneath an unforgiving blanket of white. Ayşe was fading into eternity. The bitter howl of the wind drowned out the screams. The cold, the avalanche, and the desperate cries only deepened their helplessness.

Through tears, Iraz and the children clawed frantically at snowdrifts taller than themselves.

"No, Teacher... you can't die! You promised you'd take us home!"

Ayşe's mother spoke softly:

"My dear, I had a dream last night."

Her father replied:

"I hope it was a good one. Tell me."

"There was a snowdrop blooming in the snow... and angels surrounded it."

"God willing, it's a good sign. Don't dwell on such things now. Our daughter is coming home tomorrow. Let's take the baklava to the bakery-Ayşe loves it so much."

Amid the endless white snow, her angelic face seemed almost to smile. In her hands was a pair of Oltu stone earrings, and beside her lay a photograph taken with her beloved students in front of the Double Minaret Madrasa. Like a snowdrop blooming against the cold, she would forever remain in the rugged, snow-covered mountains of Erzurum.