Hiba and the New Friend Who Spoke with Her Hands

On the first cool morning of the term, a new girl came to Hiba's class.

She had short curly hair with a yellow clip shaped like a butterfly. She wore a green dress with white pockets. And she stood very close to the teacher, holding the strap of her backpack with both hands.

"Good morning, everyone," said Miss Samira, their teacher. "This is Ruba. She is joining our class today. Ruba is deaf, which means she cannot hear sounds the way most of us do. She talks with her hands, using sign language. And she can read our lips if we face her and speak clearly."

The class went quiet. Everyone stared at Ruba. Ruba looked down at her shoes.

Miss Samira smiled and moved her hands in a few quick shapes. Ruba looked up and smiled back, just a little.

"I just told her 'welcome' in sign language," Miss Samira explained. "Ruba, would you like to sit next to Hiba?"

Hiba's heart gave a little jump. Ruba came and sat in the empty chair beside her. She put her backpack down very carefully.

Hiba wanted to say hello. But then she stopped. How do you say hello to someone who can't hear you? What if she said it wrong? What if Ruba didn't understand? Hiba felt her cheeks grow warm, and she looked down at her pencil case instead.

All morning, Hiba wanted to talk to Ruba, but she didn't know how. At snack time, Ruba sat alone and ate her cheese sandwich. At playtime, she stood by the wall and watched the other children play hopscotch. Hiba watched her from across the playground, and she felt a heavy, sad feeling in her chest.

That evening, at home, Hiba sat at the kitchen table and pushed her rice around her plate.

"What's wrong, Hiba?" asked her father.

"There's a new girl in my class," said Hiba. "Her name is Ruba. She talks with her hands. I wanted to be her friend, but I didn't know how to talk to her. So I didn't say anything at all."

Her father put down his fork. "You know," he said, "everyone feels shy when they don't know how to say something. But there are many ways to be friendly. You can smile. You can wave. You can share. And you can learn."

"Learn?" asked Hiba.

"Maybe you could learn a few words in her language," said her father. "Just a few. I think it would mean a lot to her."

After dinner, Hiba and her father sat together and looked for videos about sign language. They learned how to sign "hello." You lift your hand to your forehead and move it out, like a little salute. They learned "friend," hooking your two pointing fingers together, first one way and then the other. They learned "play," with your thumbs and little fingers sticking out, shaking your hands gently. And they learned "thank you," touching your fingertips to your chin and moving your hand forward.

Hiba practiced in front of the mirror until bedtime. She practiced while brushing her teeth. She even practiced in bed, with her hands under the blanket, until she fell asleep.

The next morning, Hiba walked into class, her heart thumping. Ruba was already sitting at their table, drawing a flower with a purple crayon.

Hiba took a deep breath. She tapped the table gently so Ruba would look up. Then she faced her, smiled, and lifted her hand to her forehead, moving it out.

Hello.

Ruba's eyes went wide. Her crayon stopped in the middle of a petal. Then her whole face lit up like a lamp. She signed hello back, quickly, and then she signed something else, very fast, with her fingers flying.

Hiba laughed and shook her head. She held up her hands and made the shape for "a little," a tiny space between her thumb and finger. Then she pointed to herself.

Ruba understood. She giggled, a happy, bubbly sound. Then, slowly, so Hiba could follow, she showed her a new sign. She made a circle with her hand and wiggled it. Then she pointed at her purple crayon.

"Purple?" Hiba said out loud, facing Ruba so she could see her lips.

Ruba nodded and clapped.

All day long, they taught each other. Hiba showed Ruba how to say words with her mouth, clearly and slowly. Ruba showed Hiba signs for "apple," "sun," "book," and "funny." When Hiba got a sign wrong, Ruba laughed, but it was a kind laugh, and she showed her again.

At playtime, Hiba took Ruba's hand. She hooked her two pointing fingers together.

Friend.

Then she shook her hands with her thumbs and little fingers sticking out.

Play?

Ruba nodded so hard her butterfly clip almost flew off.

They ran to the hopscotch squares together. Hiba didn't need to explain the rules with words. She showed Ruba by hopping, one foot, two feet, one foot. Ruba watched carefully, then hopped all the way to the end without a single wobble.

Soon, other children came to watch. "How do you talk to her?" asked a boy named Waleed.

"Like this," said Hiba, and she showed him the sign for hello.

Waleed tried it. Ruba signed hello back to him, smiling. Then another girl wanted to learn. And another. By the end of playtime, there was a whole circle of children around Ruba, all trying to learn signs, all laughing together.

When the bell rang, Ruba turned to Hiba. She touched her fingertips to her chin and moved her hand forward toward Hiba.

Thank you.

Hiba felt a warm, glowing feeling spread all through her, from her toes to the tips of her ears.

That evening, she ran into the kitchen. "Baba!" she said. "Ruba taught me eleven new signs! And now half the class wants to learn!"

Her father smiled. "And what did you teach her?"

Hiba thought about it. "I think," she said slowly, "I taught her that she isn't alone."

Then she lifted her hand, hooked her fingers together, and showed her father the sign she liked best of all.

Friend.