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Sabahattin Ali, when he took his daughter in his arms for the first time, his thirty-year life flashed before his eyes. His father, infantry captain, Mr Selahattin; his suicidal mother, Mrs Husniye; lost Balkan lands, wars, mobilization, Greeks’ invasion, incidents on Çanakkale frontlines, English Invasion, War of Independence, the foundation of the republic, first teaching years, Germany adventures, his books, arrests, penalties, his falling in love with his wife…


Here she was, like a gift, in his arms, his little daughter that he couldn’t get enough of... He realized at that moment; that everything has just started. He must now try harder to make the world a better place. He would grow this fresh idea and aim at leaving behind a world worth living to his daughter. He took a deep breath and bent down to his daughter’s ear and whispered: Filiz!

He kissed his wife from her forehead, as she was smiling, looking at him with admiration and blushed cheeks and loving eyes:


shall we name her Filiz?

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