A year later, Ali was packing for the biggest journey of his life. His family was traveling from Kuwait ๐ฐ๐ผ to Turkey, and he could barely sleep. The night before, his father sat on the edge of his bed. ๐
Baba
"Let's play a game. I'll show you three fruits, and you tell me what they have in common."
He held up an apple ๐, a cherry ๐, and a strawberry ๐.
Ali
"They're all red!"
"Now these." An orange ๐, a mango ๐ฅญ, a lemon ๐.
Ali
"They're allโฆ juicy? But alsoโฆ they grow in hot places?"
Baba
"You're not just seeing colors now. You're finding features. Little clues. And when you group things by their features, you start to see patterns. Patterns let you predict. If I told you we're visiting a country full of mango trees, what would you guess about the weather?"
Ali
"HOT!" โ๏ธ
Baba
"Yes. Your brain is a magnificent pattern machine, Ali. And the world is full of patterns waiting to be noticed."
That night, Ali dreamt of red fruits and yellow fruits and invisible threads connecting everything. ๐งตโจ