In a time when roads were filled with fear, during the dark and unforgettable days of the Hama massacre, this story took place — a story still told today as if it happened yesterday.
My grandfather, Ahmad Ezzat Kilani, recalls leaving with his cousins while fleeing death, searching for any road that might save them from an unknown fate. The city was suffocating under terror, people were escaping without direction, and every step could have been the last.
As they moved through fear and uncertainty, they arrived at Granada School.
There, they saw a soldier sitting by the entrance, his weapon resting on his lap, while flames danced inside a metal container before him. He was warming himself silently, as though detached from the terrifying scene consuming the city.
They stopped.
They had to choose.
Where should they go?
Should they take the Bab Al-Nahr road toward the city? Or head toward Al-Hader?
It was not merely a choice of direction…
It was a choice between life and death.
As the discussion intensified, a sudden voice broke the silence:
“Hey… hey.”
My grandfather turned toward the sound.
It was the soldier.
He raised his hand, pointed toward the cemetery, and said only a few words:
“Go from there.”
Silence fell.
My grandfather looked toward the direction the man had indicated, trying to understand. What was behind the cemetery?
Then he remembered…
Behind it was an entrance leading into the city of Hama.
My grandfather later said:
“By God, I never truly saw the man’s face. I thought he was an angel sent by God to guide us toward survival.”
But the story did not end there.
In fact, that was where the hardest moment began.
Some of those with him objected and said:
“If we go that way, we’ll be killed… I feel this is the end.”
Their fears were understandable. Hearts were trembling.
But my grandfather felt something he could not explain.
A strange sense of certainty.
A calm unlike anything surrounding them.
So he said firmly:
“I will take the road he pointed to.”
And in that moment…
They split apart.
One group chose another road.
The other decided to follow the mysterious signal.
Days passed…
And fate revealed itself.
Those who went the other way…
None of them survived.
But those who followed the signal…
All of them survived, by the grace of God.
And to this day, the question remains:
Was he merely a passing soldier they encountered while escaping?
Or was he mercy sent by God in the very moment fear surrounded them from every direction?
Whatever the answer may be, this story remains a witness to a profound truth:
That when God wills survival for His servants, He prepares its causes from places they never expect, and that the light of relief may appear in the darkest moments — in the form of a passing word, or a small gesture… capable of changing the fate of an entire life.