To conclude otherwise would be the essence of stupidity.”

Mariana

Mariana, being a young sister of Gibran, was not consulted about her family’s migration.

She was not asked whether her brother should be sent to Lebanon and Europe. However, when tragedy struck, and her mother, her sister and brother Peter, who was the breadwinner, died of tuberculosis within two years, Mariana found herself alone with her brother Kahlil, whose literary work was awakening the Arab world and upsetting the Ottoman Empire. Mariana realized that literary greatness and money do not often meet until, and if, late in life. Gibran’s education was in Arabic; thus his articles and books were not bringing in sufficient cash to furnish the necessities of life.

Mariana refused to let her brother alter his plans or to take a job which would interfere with his literary and art career. She sewed and knit to keep a home for herself and for her brother. She encouraged him to paint until he had a collection ready for showing. Mariana did not have the money to pay for the display of his works, but Gibran managed to borrow twenty dollars from a Lebanese woman, who lived in Boston then, and is still living now, in Lebanon, and considers Gibran’s note her greatest possession.

The investment in Gibran’s education paid dividends, not only to the literary world but in money as well. The estimate of the royalties from Gibran’s books is over a million and a half dollars. These royalties are sent to his home town, Bcherri. However, he left to his sister, Mariana (Mary), who still lives in Boston, sufficient money for her to retire with security for the rest of her life. She was on very good terms with Barbara Young, who dedicated the book The Man From Lebanon to her.

May Ziadeh

May Ziadeh was Gibran’s love on paper only; he never saw her. May was a Lebanese girl, whose family had moved to Egypt. An only child, she was educated in the Middle East and later went to Europe to study; later she wrote articles in her father’s magazine and in other French and Arabic publications. Her parents’ home was a meeting place for most of the prominent literary men in Egypt. Gibran’s articles, appearing at this time, in many papers and magazines, were often a topic of discussion.

May, admiring Gibran’s articles, decided to write to him. Fearing that he might disregard her letters as simply those from another admirer, she wrote, in the beginning, an introduction of herself. She explained that she wrote articles and books, and that much of her work appeared under the nom de plume, Isis Cubia. Then she proceeded to tell him the great effect his writing was having upon the Egyptian community.

Gibran was prompt in his answer. He wrote admiring her courage and thanking her for working toward the liberation of women in the Middle East. He told her that he was mailing her, in a separate package, a copy of his new book, The Broken Wings. And he tried to explain how he came to give it that title:

“I inherited from my mother ninety percent of my character and my disposition. This does not mean that I inherited her beauty and her humility, or her big heart. I recall that she told me once, when I was twenty years old, that it would have been much better for me and the people had I become a monk in one of the monasteries.”

“I said, ‘It is true except that I took you as a mother before I came into this world.’”

“She replied, ‘If you had not come, you would have remained an angel.’”

“I answered, ‘I am still an angel.’”

“She smiled and asked, ‘But where are your wings?’”

“I placed her arms on my shoulders and then said, ‘These are my wings.’”

“She responded, ‘But they are broken.’”

Gibran added in his letter: “My mother, since passed beyond the blue horizon, but her words, ‘the broken wings’ remained with me and I used them for the title of the novel I am sending to you. I appreciate your personal opinion.”

May sent her opinion, admiring the book, but sharply disagreeing with Gibran, because in the story he condoned a married woman meeting with her former lover.

“Regardless of how innocent it was,” May wrote, “it is a betrayal of the husband, it is a betrayal of the name she carries and it is a betrayal of society.”

In the meantime, the intelligentsia of Egypt were planning to honor a Lebanese poet and Gibran was to be one of the speakers. Unable to attend, mainly because he didn’t have the money, Gibran sent an article “The Poet of Baalbek”1 to be read at the affair. The toastmaster, knowing about the correspondence between Gibran and May, asked her to read the article.

Even though it was May’s first attempt at public speaking, her reading earned an ovation. Thus, she had auctioned her heart to Gibran. They corresponded until his death. May’s letters were not all of love, for she criticized his writing frequently and prodded him to write on certain subjects.

Once May wrote:

“The new Turkish governor arrived in Lebanon, and as usual, he began removing people from their jobs. He is following in the footsteps of his predecessors.