By Lubna Abdel-Aziz Joining the Ahram family was a lifelong dream come true. I admit it took an endless effort of almost two years by my friends Hosny and Moushira Guindy, before I finally succumbed to their art of persuasion. I remember every detail of my first visit to Hosny's office. It was more like the return of the wanderer -- home at last. "Al Ahram" was one of the first words I learned as a child. It was where my father worked for over half a century, and to me and my sister and brothers, it was as familiar to us as our home and school. Dad shared with us all the fascinating tales behind that famous establishment and all the names of editors, reporters, columnists, and administrators that made the Ahram the most prestigious publication in Egypt. There were many dinner parties at home, where we got to see the faces behind the names -- Takla, Sawi, Gawdat, Kamel El Chenawi among others. Later, we were introduced to a younger generation of rising stars like Heikal, Aly Hamdy al Gammal, Salah Montasser, Anis Mansour, Kamal el-Mallakh, Mohamed Hakki. Kamal el Mallakh became a close family friend to all of us. I was still at school when we first met. He reminded me of a reincarnated Pharaoh. I had great admiration for him, and remained loyal friends till the end. My dad was a star in our household, as are most dads. We all wished to emulate him, he was charismatic and cultured. He was generous and compassionate. Every man was his brother, every woman his sister. Until today, strangers come up to me to sing his praises and recall stories of how he helped and guided them. When it was time for me to enter college, it was natural that I would follow in my father's footsteps. It was my secret dream since childhood. It was about to come true. Life has a mind of its own. It takes you by the hand and leads you to venues, strange and unfamiliar. It bids you to climb mountains and swim oceans. By a quirk of fate, the college of my choice, AUC, offered Journalism, but only in the Arabic language. Alas, my Arabic was not up to par. Nonetheless I lived among the Journalism students, attended their courses, and worked on their publication "The Campus Caravan." I also joined the University's Drama club "The Maskers." I was cast in several plays, and upon graduation I had won a Fulbright Scholarship to study Theatre Arts in the US. My dreams of Journalism were tucked away in the corner of my heart to surface every now and then as I sent several articles to the Ahram from Hollywood, a town within the city of Los Angeles. I returned to Cairo and was asked to write an article comparing Hollywood Studios with Cairo Studios. Mr Osman al Antabli decided to take me to Studio Nahas, and as they say, the rest is history. I left again for the US with my husband who was pursuing further studies in Medicine. I became a dedicate wife and mother, and stardom was only a faint memory, Journalism, a childhood dream. My sister and brother-in-law Ayman el Amir, also an Ahram graduate, asked me to look up a good friend of theirs who was in Houston for medical treatment. My husband and I went to visit them at their hotel. It was love at first site. Hosny, Moshira and their teen-ager Yasmine, immediately found a permanent place in my heart. Moshira interviewed me for the " Ahram Weekly " and Hosny told me all about the Egyptian publication, how it came to be, how it was received, and how popular it had become. I will never forget the pride that danced in his eye as he described the accomplishments of the " Ahram Weekly. " I instantly shared the pride. Though the names had all changed from the old familiar ones, the name of Al Ahram remained, a beacon of knowledge, integrity and efficiency, as it had always been. It still never occurred to me, that one day I would be part of it. Such dreams were forever locked away. It was not long after our meeting with the Guindys that my husband and I started a long trip home, back to the land of our birth. Among the first voices we heard were those of Hosny and Moushira. They wasted no time in trying to convince me to write for the Ahram Weekly. I had abandoned such hopes and dreams. Insecure and indecisive, I could not imagine such a commitment. All I was for more than a quarter of a century was a super-Mom. No! I was not capable of such a task. Hosny was relentless -- he was sure I could. Moushira was insistent. She was convinced I should. Two years later, I did. Life has a way of fulfilling dreams, but life is not pressed for time. Finally, after all these years, I was about to fulfill my childhood dream. It is never late for dreams to come true. Here I am at long last, pursuing a career in journalism, in the same establishment that my father was devoted to for most of his life. The credit goes entirely to Hosny and Moushira, who saw alive within me, what I thought had long been dead. How I miss Hosny's gentle guidance and fervent encouragement. I have been dedicated to the Weekly as he would have liked me to be. How can a dream come true, if you don't have one? Learn to dream dreams; life has a way for fulfilling them, if you give it time Life is what happens to us, while we are making other plans -- Thomas La Mance
