It was 180 years ago, in 1843, that Charles Dickens wrote his classic story, “A Christmas Carol”. It is probably most well-known for the nasty, greedy, terrible man, Ebenezer Scrooge around which the story revolves. What often does not receive as much attention is his miraculous transformation on Christmas Day after a night of visits from Christmas ghosts. He becomes a new person and swears to maintain the “spirit of Christmas” throughout the year. On a secular level this means a positive attitude, being helpful to others, being generous and kind.
Another, similar story, depicted in the 1946 film “It’s a Wonderful Life” also tells of a man’s “rebirth” after experiencing what his family, friends, and hometown, would have been like if he had never lived. The original story, “The Greatest Gift”, was in fact based loosely on Dickens’ book, “A Christmas Carol”, (although I never realized that until Dima’s passing), and it portrays a stark difference between a world without George Bailey, as compared to one blessed with his presence and gifts, gifts of compassion, caring, and support.
The Irish musician Van Morrison has a song called, “Days Like This”. Judging by the title you might guess that days like “this” are best forgotten, but nothing could be further from the truth. It isn’t raining, no one is complaining, everything is falling into place. The listener quickly finds they want days like “this” because they are full of everything good.
Dima Sulaiman embodied Christmas-Day Scrooge and George Bailey, and she always had days like “this”. I have never known anyone as positive and supportive as Dima was. The uplifting things Dima did and said are many. She spread joy wherever she went and anyone who met her inevitably had their day brightened and their spirit lifted. She was like a sister to me. She was my student for over four and a half years and my classes will never be the same without her. She took a personal interest in everyone. As a cat lover, she shared the antics of her “crazy cat”, Mesh Mesh, (Arabic for apricot), and never failed to ask other pet owners how their little angels were doing, no matter they be feline, canine, avian, or other.
After being friends for about two years Dima asked me to order some things from Amazon.com for her, it probably started with storybooks we read in class. Over time it expanded to cat food from Chewy and occasionally other random companies. I won’t forget an Advent calendar, (yes, even though she was Muslim she loved Christmas), I ordered for her in early October of 2023. It was coming from China and cost $37. The sender sent it to Idaho rather than Illinois and my repeated efforts to resolve the issue were fruitless. Fortunately that was the only time something she ordered didn’t arrive, and she didn’t complain, but I still feel bad about it. Whatever the item or items I delivered, she was always happy to meet me in the lobby of her building, or outside it, and give me a hug, a kiss, and converse about random things. Many times her mother would request that I arrive at a specific time so she would have time to prepare me a delicious homemade meal of Middle Eastern food.
Dima was old school and called me more than any other friend, every so often at inopportune moments like minutes before class started or during class breaks. She preferred voice communication due to difficulty with her fingers and challenges with texting. I have a recording of her singing “Happy Birthday” to me. I will always cherish it.
Dima loved helping people. She liked to tell about how she helped other students with disabilities in Iraq while she was quite young, during grammar school and beyond. She volunteered for at least three organizations in Chicago and was regularly involved in special events and gatherings they had, even after she stopped being actively involved with them. She helped at Centro Romero, where she was my student, on numerous occasions too.
I was raised to be a very humble person, my mother would never brag and was shy when people complimented her on her outstanding baking. Dima helped me turn humility to pride. In spite of ingrained responses, I am now more willing to tell people something I made is delicious or well done, Dima never let me deflect compliments, she encouraged me to do the opposite. She was always proud of how she helped people and spread happiness wherever she went. I titled this memorial composition to her “Lucky to Know Me”, because I know Dima would say that in her unabashed, proud manner. Anyone who met her was lucky to know her.
Dima’s helpful spirit showed clearly in her desire to help me teach classes online. She helped me maintain contact with students on a day-to-day basis, primarily if they didn’t come to class, but her interest in her classmates was in no way limited to class formalities. During class she would take screenshots of the work we did, (often responding with an amusing, “got it dude” when I asked if I could erase the screen), and share them with our group on WhatsApp, a group she helped create. I dubbed her my unofficial assistant a few years ago, but upon reflection it’s clear her role was more official than unofficial. The details she sewed up for me helped class flow and certainly showed her classmates that they were also an important part of the class whose presence mattered.
Learning English was only one of the activities Dima took pleasure in, she also tried to learn Spanish from her classmates, as Spanish was the language of most of them. She greeted people in Spanish and encouraged them in their native language, further ingratiating her among them all. In 2023 she participated in a photography class which was incorporated into classes at Centro Romero. There was no social activity she would turn down.
Dima enjoyed telling her classmates that she had been with me for four years. I was happy to have her, but couldn’t avoid thinking that it’s not exactly a good thing to have a student that long, because we teachers always want our students to progress, of course I never mentioned this.
Dima’s memory was astounding. I can’t count the times she’d remind me of something I had forgotten, be it former students, an announcement to the class, or a common experience. If she knew you had a pet or children she would frequently ask about them. Some people seem to do this as a matter of form, but with Dima there was never the slightest doubt that her interest was heartfelt and sincere. I have to wonder how many people considered her their best friend. I will never stop missing the kind soul with whom I could talk about almost anything and get support. I will miss hearing her tell me she loved me.
I was blessed to share in one of her proudest moments when she took her naturalization oath and became a U.S. Citizen. I also remember going to see a student/classmate’s Christmas concert at a Rogers Park Church. Dima and I were like little kids, we got the “giggles” and began to see humor in all everything around us. We had to stop looking at each other for fear of laughing out loud. She was a very perceptive person and was so warm to everyone she encountered.
Dima was an inspiration to me and so many others. In honor of her memory we must all be Christmas-Day Scrooge and reborn George Bailey throughout the year, every day can be a “Day Like This” if we keep Dima in our hearts.
In memory of our dear friend I ask that you imagine that you have a hybrid of George Bailey and Ebenezer Scrooge showing you how wonderful it is to be alive, that is what Dima Sulaiman embodied. Every negative thought we might have was anathema to her very being. There was no unhappy moment in her life. She endured tragedy that the great majority of us cannot fathom, and yet every moment she lived she was positive, more positive every moment, than most people are in whatever the situation, as their days, years, and lives progress. Being happy every waking moment is something most of us would never even imagine to be possible, being in Dima’s presence was nothing but that.