I opened my eyes. The first sounds I heard were those of a muezzin, high in the minaret, calling the people to prayer. Although foreign to my ears, the chanting seemed right for the moment. . . .as I was in Turkey, amongst the Muslim people ... My husband was still sleeping as I got up and went to the window. He was serving a remote tour to Turkey in 1985, and I was visiting—away from our five boys at home. There was a small balcony off our room and I wanted to see the village at dawn. The quiet was mesmerizing.

I opened my eyes. The first sounds I heard were those of a muezzin, high in the minaret, calling the people to prayer. Although foreign to my ears, the chanting seemed right for the moment. . . .as I was in Turkey, amongst the Muslim people ... My husband was still sleeping as I got up and went to the window. He was serving a remote tour to Turkey in 1985, and I was visiting—away from our five boys at home. There was a small balcony off our room and I wanted to see the village at dawn. The quiet was mesmerizing.