~*Aishah’s Journey Continues…Mecca, August 5-6, 2004*~
I was very contemplative as I prepared
myself for this particular trip to Mecca.
It was not planned ahead of time, in fact, just the evening before I had
been invited on a bus trip to Riyadh with my friend, Samera. Samera was traveling the 8 hours with her
daughter, “Shorty” a/k/a Gedy, a/k/a Heba (*smile*) for the engagement party of
her son, Ibrahim, who had just graduated from training to be an airline pilot. In the last moments wherein I could possibly
make a final decision on whether or not to follow through with the initial plan
to accompany my dear friend, and after having prayed about it in the middle of
the night, at 6:00 am Wednesday morning (prior to her 7:30 am scheduled time to
pick me up), I called Samera to let her know I didn’t think it would be a good
idea for me to make the trip, particularly by bus. Call me paranoid…but, unfortunately, I happen to have read the
account of one of the previously kidnapped Americans who was unwittingly
snatched from a vehicle he had been traveling in that happened to stop at a
*check point* that turned out to be *fake*, and upon seeing that the traveler
had a U.S. passport…he was snatched from the vehicle, kidnapped, and
subsequently beheaded. Laa'hawla wa la quwwata illa'billa'h.
Well…this recollection was still fresh
in what is left of the tiny capacity of my memory bank, and my vivid
imagination pictured the load of bus passengers, upon stopping at a checkpoint,
being asked to produce documentation, and there I would be…sitting there with
my U.S. passport. Mmm…now, this might
not cause me imminent danger, however, you know…one phone call to one person,
to another person, etc., would be all it would take to institute a plan, and
who is not to say that two or three check points up the road, I, myself, could
very well end up a victim of kidnapping.
Yes, I had been told that my being
Muslim would afford me probable protection from this kind of thing, however, it
could have just as likely turned out that they might consider me to be no less
*legitimate* than they were…as the *militants* that had kidnapped the American
in the story I previously mentioned, were reported to have infiltrated law
enforcement, thereby obtaining vehicles, uniforms and badges, in order to
facilitate their activities. This, of
course, was deplorable, and it is my understanding that much has been done to
make sure things like this don’t happen again, however, it was my decision to
stand by the old Egyptian saying, “Trust Allah (swt), but tie your camel.” It is also reported that if you are a
*woman* you should feel relatively secure that you will not be harmed…but,
again, forgive my skepticism, but I have seen and experienced enough to not
hold too much stock in that *representation* either, therefore, I felt it
better not to take any unnecessary chances.
After all…who would answer all of the Sisters’ email in the
Sisters4Dawah group and write these stories if I were kidnapped! {{smile}}
I knew it would be a disappointment to
Samera as I told her I would not be accompanying her to Riyadh, but I was
confident with my decision and upon completion of the dreaded task, I decided
to try and take a nap. I was worn out;
actually, from having been up late to start with, awakening from a restless
sleep to pray, staying awake so as to not miss fajr, and then getting through
the phone call had just left me flat out exhausted!
Later that morning when my husband
returned from the hospital just before dhuhr, he quizzed me on my decision to
abandon the trip to Riyadh. And I
repeated the above. He was very
appreciative of my decision, even though he had previously agreed on my making
the trip. However, in our discussion, I
learned that in the conversation between my husband and Samera (which took
place over the phone in Arabic), that there had been no mention of how we would
arrive in Riyadh, and, come to find out after learning of my reasons for not
going, my husband had presumed we would arrive by airplane. This made me feel all the better for coming
to the conclusion that I had about staying home, because as I might have
guessed, the idea of my making the trip by bus didn’t settle well with my
husband, either! We then decided, since
he would not be on call for the weekend; that we would just go to Mecca. Well, this suited me just fine!
Early the following afternoon, in the
company of my husband, I left Taif with the intention of making Umrah. I had even done a little more reading on the
subject and scratched out some additional notes before leaving. I
re-transcribed the notes into smaller, more legible writing that fit nicely
onto a single sheet that folded neatly to fit in the small shoulder pouch that
I like to use when I go out. It’s a
cute navy blue leather bag with a long strap that I bought back home. I usually drape across my right shoulder so
it sits nicely to the left, whereupon my left hand also protectively rests
across the zippered top edge, my fingers laced around the front strap. The size and convenience of this bag makes
it much less cumbersome to carry than a regular pocketbook, making it, for all
intents and purposes, *hands free*.
Another benefit of this little item is that, well, honestly ladies…on
occasion when you’re outside, even while wearing an abaya, a sister might find
herself in need of some sort of protection from a wind blowing in your face
that causes your outer garment to *cling* to the front of your body…it is so
annoying when that happens! Well,
the handy-dandy little shoulder bag can easily be re-positioned to the front
area of your body when you’re walking and with its longer strap, can afford you
a discreet reason to have your arms and a spare hand positioned in front of you
as you pass through a breezy area.
Ladies, I’m sure you get my *drift*.
LOL!!! Of course, in Mecca, if
you are walking along the outside perimeter of the mosque, you can readily duck
inside one of the many entrances to avoid the sometimes unpredictable direction
of the wind, and still reach your targeted destination by passing through to
another gate from within the protection of the mosque. Al-hamdulillah!
Okay…Mecca bound…finally! *winks*
For some reason, the last few times we have traveled down the mountain
to Mecca vs. taking the “straight” highway, I seem to have found myself with a
case of motion sickness. You see my
husband likes to imagine himself as a racecar driver navigating the curves of
the mountains at the highest speeds possible without throwing us off the edge;
or crashing us into another racecar driver in the other lane trying to pass
someone, despite all of the signs of caution that read, “DANGEROUS
CURVES”. If you’ve ever driven down the
mountain to Mecca, or perhaps in the mountains of West Virginia, or similar
mountains, you might be able to imagine what I’m talking about. Needless to say, this trip was no exception
(regarding the racecar driving and the motion sickness), and despite my obvious
state…the *racecar driver* gleefully continued having his *fun*. Gosh, I even emptied a bag from the back
seat that held some cans of soda so I could hold the bag in my lap…I sincerely
felt as though I would lose my cookies at any minute. With my head resting against the door and a my left arm pressed firmly
into the arm rest beside me to brace myself from floundering back and forth
across the seat, I silently made dua all the way down the mountain. This reminded me of the trip to Madinah with
the poor little nurse who suffered from motion sickness the entire 6-hour
trip…there and back! Laa'hawla wa la quwwata illa'billa'h.
Anyhow! Upon entering the city we headed for our familiar parking area
(this time we went there straight away instead of wasting a whole hour
aimlessly driving around in an attempt to find a non-existent parking space…),
and quickly spotted a taxi that happened to spot us first (mmm…he wasn’t
trolling for passengers now was he??
LOL!!), and was ready to take us wherever we wanted to go. Mustafa put our overnight bags in the trunk
of the taxi and we headed to our regular hotel. We exited the taxi, and having already heard from colleagues at
the hospital that we might be hard pressed to find a hotel room, I stood
waiting outside as Mustafa went in to inquire about room availability;
obviously my husband was anticipating rejection as I would ordinarily
have accompanied him inside the hotel.
Well, he was back at my side within about two minutes with the report, *No
room at the Inn!!* Laa'hawla wa la quwwata illa'billa'h.
The adhan began for Asr at that moment,
and somewhat perplexed as to what to do next, being as we had no hotel room and
were standing on a sidewalk in 100+ mid-afternoon, sweltering heat with our
overnight bags, I suggested to Mustafa that he go on ahead to the mosque for
salat and I would wait for him in the lobby of our regular *no room* hotel
until he returned. He tried to object,
but I insisted he go ahead, as it is a *higher priority* for a man to pray in
the mosque. I told him I would pray
after he returned. Thus he left, and I
went inside the nicely cooled lobby of the hotel, found an empty sofa and sat
down with my bag at my side.
Subhan’Allah.
The last time I was in Mecca it was to
meet my friend who had traveled from the U.S. for Umrah. She happened to be bringing me a package
from my daughter, Hanane, and the original travel arrangements set out that the
group she was traveling with would be staying at the Sheraton. As it happened I still had the slip of paper
in my handbag with the phone number for the hotel, and cell phone in hand, I
dialed the number. Upon inquiring as to
any vacancies, I was told to call back after Asr. Now this is comical, because as I am writing this I have noted a
different interpretation of this reply than I had on the day I heard it. Like, right now, I am thinking, “Duh…call
back after Asr,” is a logical answer to my inquiry…as it was time for
Asr!! But the way I received this
message on the day I heard it was, “Call back after Asr and they might have
some vacancies.” Insha’Allah.
With this little seed planted in my
brain, I decided to approach the front desk of the hotel where I sat waiting
for the return of my husband. I
started out with the simple inquiry, “English?” As it happened that the clerk was Saudi. He shook his head in the negative, and
motioned past my shoulder to someone who was apparently standing in the near
vicinity who came over to the counter, taking a position to my left. It turned out that the brother I found
myself speaking with was from Egypt and was able to speak English
fluently. Al-hamdulillah! I faced the brother (yes, I was wearing
niqab), and launched right in with, “My husband and I came from Taif today,
where we live, and whenever we come to Mecca for the weekend, we always stay at
this hotel, but today, before going over to the mosque for Asr, my husband was
told that there were no rooms available.
I’m wondering if there might be any vacancies after Asr?”
Allah (swt) is so Merciful! The brother reached across the counter,
turned an open book around where the bookings were kept (most places here are
not computer savvy about these things yet, if you can imagine…), and
wouldn’t you just know…Room 805, facing the mosque was
available! A key was presented to me
with the inquiry, “Would you like to go up and see the room?” I was then escorted to the elevator, the
kind brother pressed the “8” button, and said he would wait for my return as
the doors closed. I stood there in
absolute amazement as the elevator headed upwards. Subhan’Allah, the only difference between the room I entered and
the room we usually take was that it had a king size bed instead of just a
*double*. I returned to the front desk
and happily reported that the room was perfect (gosh, even if it only had two
twin beds, ‘beggars can’t be choosers’ as they say back home!), and I assured
my newfound friend that my husband would soon return from salat to take care of
the details. He said that would be
fine, and I returned to my seat in the lobby.
I was so happy!
Al-hamdulillah!
About 10 minutes later my husband
returned to the scene, and lo-and-behold, very nearly before he even had a
chance to greet me, it turned out that sitting on the sofa to my left was one
of my husband’s colleagues from the hospital and his wife! The Doctor immediately arose from his seat
and approached my husband in greeting whereupon they commenced to share laments
over not being able to find a room. That’s
when I, after two attempts, was able to interject with, “Ahhhh, ahhhh, ahhhh…we
have a room…” WHAT?!?!? {{Smiling
confidently now…}} Imagine my husband’s
surprise! Hee hee hee.
You see…I look at it this way. As Mustafa left to go and pray at the
mosque, he was pretty much resolved that we would just return to Taif. (This being one of the major differences
between our ways of thinking…) But as
for me…well…I knew that *Allah (swt) knew* that it was *my most sincere
intention* to perform Umrah. So
there you have it. Allah (swt) the
Facilitator just made darn sure this little sister had a room! {{*smile*}}
And that’s all there is to it.
Allah Akbar! Allah Akbar!! Allah Akbar!!!
We got ourselves settled in, I made a
fresh wudu so I could pray Asr, and afterwards we decided to get something to
eat before Maghrib came around. We
ventured over to where our *preferred* restaurant is located inside a shopping
complex, and ordered our food to carry back to the hotel room. Ordinarily we would have eaten inside, but
there were so many other people deciding to eat at the same time that there
were absolutely no seats, and besides that, the air conditioning was obviously
strained with the heat of the cooking from the surrounding restaurants. After returning to the hotel, we actually
had time for a short nap when we finished our meal. The room was nice and cool by then and with my tummy full I fell
asleep almost immediately. It seemed as
if it had already been quite a long day!
We returned to the mosque in time for
Maghrib and agreed to meet one another again after Isha. There is now such a short time between the
two prayers that it didn’t really make sense to return to our hotel room, and
the evening air made hanging out at the mosque most inviting. It was during this time that I happily spent
some *quiet* time with Allah (swt).
From my perch at the second floor
balcony, I stood for the longest time in contemplation, awe, amazement, and
dua. The scene below was like watching
a live moving picture show. I’ve
paused while sitting here at my keyboard to close my eyes; letting the images
flood back into view.
Masha’Allah. It’s so incredible
when you think about it…so many people, coming from so many lands, all ages,
all sizes, all nationalities, speaking so many different languages, wearing so
many variations of *Islamic* dress…you know…I really appreciate some of the
clever designs, in particular an Asian looking jelbab/abaya/prayer garment (for
lack of a better term) that I’ve seen some sisters wear. I spotted a group wearing these similarly
designed outfits (one of the ways groups use in order to identify one another
from other people in the crowd), with the exception of the fabric patterns
being different, and the design was so unique that I was straining to keep
myself from moving towards them just to say, “Can I have one of those!!” LOL!!!
I met my husband again after Isha and
we decided to retire for the evening.
Walking back towards the hotel, it was not hard to observe the
overcrowded status of the streets filled with people and taxis. The traffic police strictly oversee parking
on any street, and if you are parked in a no-parking zone…well…just forget
it! Within five minutes you will
be towed…no doubt about it…they are serious when they say, “No
Parking!” The streets were so
crowded…it is sometimes hard to imagine what it might be like during Hajj…this
is just the season of *summer vacation*…and it is so hot, and so crowded…the
thought of how people might cope during Hajj is simply mind boggling. But maybe the secret to this *coping* is in
the dua for *ease* one should make when drinking Zam Zam water…
I arose on Friday morning at my now
customary 3:00 am. Quietly moving from
the bed to the bathroom, I entered with the intention to shower in preparation
for what would be my 5th Umrah.
As it turned out, however, the switch to turn on the hot water heater
had not been flipped to the “on” position subsequent to our arrival, so,
needless to say, it was a very tepid and quick shower! Trust me, from now on, the next thing I do
after entering a hotel room in Mecca will be to head straight for the bathroom
and flip on the switch for the hot water heater!!
I was about ready to leave the hotel
room when the first adhan began. I
quietly listened in reflection, and watched for signs of life from my
slumbering husband. I would make sure
he was awake before I left so he would also make it to the mosque in time for
salat (I’m the morning person). When
the adhan finished my husband and I exchanged salaams and I found my way to the
elevator. Inside the elevator I rode
down in quiet contemplation of the beginning of a new day. Al-hamdulillah.
The morning air is always nicely cool
and generally accompanied by a softly blowing breeze. Brothers and sisters had begun their trek to the mosque, but
there was not yet the familiar deluge of traffic, so the walk over was
peaceful. I knew there would not be
time to make tawaf before fajr, so I opted for walking down to the Al-Salaam
gate, from where I favor entering when I have the intention to make Umrah, and
proceeded to try finding a space that seemed less likely than any other to
cause me to be trampled over by sometimes seemingly thoughtless passersby. I opted for an open spot next to a lone
sister sitting beside a pillar. She
appeared to be quietly making dhikr. I
took my position beside her and began my two Sunnah rakats for fajr. When I finished, I raised my head and
allowed my eyes to fall upon the view of the Kabah for the first time, this,
the morning of what would be my fifth Umrah.
Al-hamdulillah. I sat spellbound,
as if in a trance…and it seemed as though my spirits were somehow lifted just
by taking in the incredible scene before me…the Kabah with pilgrims encircling
it in tawaf, whether it be in greeting of the mosque or in preparation for
Umrah (or Hajj; in season), 24-hours a day, 7-days a week, 365-days a year; if
you think about it, this could very well be the force that creates the spin of
the earth on its axis. Subhan’Allah.
As I sat in
quiet observation of the scene below, I unexpectedly heard the English speaking
voice of the sister sitting beside me!
Oh, wow! I almost did a double
take; she was really speaking English!
Al-hamdulillah! We exchanged
greetings, which, of course, included the perfunctory “Where are you
from?” {{smile}} It turned out that she was ending a six-day
visit to Mecca with her family and that they would be returning to the Emirates
after Jummah. She also happened to
share with me that she works as a web developer! Masha’Allah!! So, I, of
course, shared with her that I have a fledgling web site of my own and I
expressed that if she had time after she got home that she might visit it and
let me know if she thought there was any way she could help me better develop
it. I explained that my work on the
site had diminished upon arriving in KSA because of the difference in my
internet service; going from cable modem to dial-up. You should have seen her face when I told her I only had dial-up
service! LOL!! You see, those of us who have experienced a
great internet connection are most empathetic towards those who are still
limited by the slower speed of dial-up (not even DSL!!!). Anyway, she said she would try to visit the
site. Insha’Allah.
The second adhan started and we fell
silent to listen to the melodious sound surrounding us. Masha’Allah…it is truly so beautiful. I sat in retrospective thought until the
prayer began. It wasn’t long before the
row of sisters in which we were sitting rose for the fajr prayer. Al-hamdulillah. As I went through the motions of the prayer, I was once again
consumed with a sense that somehow this might be my last trip to Mecca. With this thought in mind, my full heart
flooded out through tears streaming from my eyes as I prayed.
Afterwards the sister from Emirates
exchanged good-bye salaams with me, explaining that she had been awake all
night and would return to her hotel for a nap before Jummah, after which her
family would begin their journey home.
We hugged one another in parting and she quietly walked away. I then went off in search of another spot to
make my two rakats of intention for Umrah.
I settled on a spot not to far from my
original location and offered my prayers.
As I was in prostration for the first rakat, apparently my hijab fell
forward revealing the back of my neck.
I wasn’t actually conscious that this had happened until I returned to
the standing position and began my second rakat. It was then that I felt, from behind, the length of my hijab
being tucked into the back of my abaya by a sister who must have observed that
the hijab had fallen forward. She
didn’t say a word; she just quietly tucked the scarf in for me and before she
could step away I quietly said, “Shukran.”
In that moment the tears once again flooded my eyes and I had to thank
Allah (swt) for sending the sister to aid me and to ask that she be rewarded
for her kind deed. Subhan’Allah…wallah,
this was the first time in my visits to Mecca that someone had returned a
gesture in kind similar to those that I have extended to others in the
past. Al-hamdulillah! I was overwhelmed with emotion from the
simplest act of kindness…this is what I am talking about in my stories when
I share with you some of the experiences I have had in performing good
deeds. It’s not to *brag*…and anyone
thinking that, well…just doesn’t get it.
The message is that you never know where the blessings are…until you
reach out to someone...Allah (swt) is not *stingy* with us…it is we who limit
ourselves when we don’t see past the obvious…when we don’t take *time out*…when
we lose our focus and stop seeing what is around us…because we are so caught up
in this dunya…so many opportunities for blessings and rewards are missed
because the prevalent mindset in this day and time is to *not get
involved*. Astifergullah Al-Azeem.
So, as I finished my salat of intention
and headed back downstairs, it was not surprising to find that many other
people shared the same idea to try to make their Umrah before the day’s heat
settled in. Not to be deterred however,
I marched forward in search of the black line in the tile floor of the area
surrounding the Kabah marking the spot where pilgrims should begin their tawaf.
On this particular morning I seemed to
notice that there were more than the usual number of ‘groups’ making tawaf
together, and invariably there is a ‘leader’ in the group that makes recitation
aloud, and then the members of the group repeat after him. In theory this ‘seems’ nice, but in truth…we
are not suppose to make our supplications in such a way as to cause distraction
to those around us who are trying to make their own supplications. I ended up periodically either slowing my
pace to allow a vocal group to pass by me, or to navigate myself closer or
farther away from the kabah in order to distance myself from the reciting
group. Aside from that, the seven
rounds of tawaf passed as smoothly as the breeze that brushed a wave of cool
air across one’s face when passing around the Yemni corner.
Al-hamdulillah. I finished my seventh round and drifted out
of the circle of pilgrims in search of a spot to make my two rakats marking the
completion of this portion of my Umrah.
This was a challenge as it happens that this period marks a time of the
year when Mecca is particularly crowded because families are all on vacation
due to school being out of session. I
eventually found a spot on the tile behind a section of Zam Zam water
dispensers. I chose this particular
spot because there was a block/partition to my left and this would ensure my
safety from being interrupted by passersby…at least from that side! {{smile}}
Included in my updated Umrah notes was a reminder that during the first
Rakat I should recite Surah Al-Kafirun [Chapter 109] and during the second one Surah
Al-lkhlas [Chapter 112].
I finished my two rakats and moved to
take my Zam Zam water. For some reason
that morning it didn’t seem to take as much as usual to get my fill. I found that curious, because ordinarily I
could drink 5 or 6 glasses before feeling full! I splashed three handfuls of the Zam Zam water over my head,
passed my coolly wet hands over my face and headed off to perform Sa’yi.
My seven rounds between the two
mountains went somewhat slower than usual.
I think I was subconsciously in *slow motion* as I was still consumed by
this sense of it being my last visit for Umrah. My Arabic is still slim-to-none, but one of the things I decided
to try perfecting was my pronunciation of the phrase *la ilaaha illaallaah*
[none has the right to be worshipped but Allah]. Now, for those of you who are native to the
Arabic language, this rolls off your tongues so beautifully, Masha’Allah, but
for this poor soul, it is like saying “Polly Picked a Peck of Pickled Peppers”
three times fast! {{smile}} So, as they say, practice makes
perfect! And since there was no one
listening to me who would find offense in my attempts to correctly pronounce
the phrase, I practiced away as I made the trek back and forth between Al-Safaa
and Al-Marwah. When I found myself
getting tongue-tied, I threw a few other supplications into the mix. {{smile}}
I stopped here and there along the path to take some Zam Zam water and
to let the coolness of it wash over my terribly swollen hands. This is a chronic little condition I suffer
from when walking. Slightly irritating,
but not intolerable…with a splash of water now and then…sometimes I even let
some of the water from my little plastic cup trickle down in between my toes. Ahhh…Not to worry, I’m not the only one who
does this, and there is a constant clean-up crew diligently working throughout
the day and night cleaning the floors and walk-ways and refilling the water
dispensers. Subhan’Allah.
I finished
my Umrah, Al-hamdulillah, and headed
out the gate that would take me back down to the other side of the mosque into
the courtyard area that will lead me back out towards the hotel. I headed straight for the little coffee
stand and ordered and frozen _mocha coffee.
Mmm…it was so good!!! My little
*reward* to myself for completing Umrah number 5! Al-hamdulillah! Then, off
I went across the street to grab some water, fruit and breakfast
sandwiches. Just before I got to the
hotel I stopped at the newspaper stand and picked up the new edition of my
husband’s favorite Egyptian newspaper and then made the last leg to the hotel
entrance. I was somewhat alarmed to
find that my husband had gone out earlier and found his own breakfast and had
already eaten…despite the fact that he knew I would bring breakfast for us to
enjoy together. I sort of lost my
enthusiasm for eating when confronted with the disappointment of eating alone,
so I elected to just turn in for my *after Umrah* nap. I slept until just before Jummah and then
arose, made a fresh wudu, awoke my husband, grabbed the bag of uneaten food,
and headed out to the elevator. We
would meet one another again back at the hotel to checkout after Jummah.
As I stood waiting for the elevator to
reach my floor, something interesting occurred to me, and this will further
explain why I told you the part of my trip that included the episode of nausea
when traveling down the mountain to Mecca.
When I woke my husband to tell him it
was time to prepare for Jummah, he sat up and voiced his frustration with
suffering from cold-chills since we entered our hotel room the afternoon
before. For some reason, no matter how
we adjusted the temperature it seemed that the cold chills would not leave
him. Almost like when you have a fever,
ya know what I mean? Well…as I stood
waiting for the elevator, what occurred to me was that Allah subhaanahu wata'aala is All-Knowing…and
Just. You see…my husband ignored my
suffering when coming down the mountain because he was having *fun*…but Allah subhaanahu wata'aala, in turn, delivered
an equal suffering to my husband.
Through my suffering the afternoon before, I sat silently making dua…and
Allah subhaanahu wata'aala took care
of the rest. I guess you might also
call Allah subhaanahu wata'aala the
“Equalizer.” Al-hamdulillah. So, the moral of the story is…even when you
are suffering…Allah subhaanahu wata'aala
knows…and Allah subhaanahu wata'aala
will deliver you…and Allah subhaanahu
wata'aala will balance the scales, so to speak…so in all that you do…fear
Allah subhaanahu wata'aala. May Allah subhaanahu wata'aala know I have
shared this story only to deliver a message.
Before
leaving the hotel room, I remembered to grab the bag of uneaten food from the
shelf beside the bed where I had been napping.
I didn’t want the already purchased food to be wasted. Unfortunately you can’t help but notice, as
you exit the hotel and head up the sidewalk towards the mosque, women sitting
against the outer walls of some of the shops trying to sell a few things set
out on rugs to provide for their children.
I walked along carefully surveying the scene for just the right
candidate to whom I could deliver the bag of food, when suddenly my eyes fell
upon two children sleeping on the sidewalk beside their mother. I stopped in front of her and motioned
towards the children in such a way as to inquire if they were hers, to which I
received an affirmative reply.
Subhan’Allah…Allah subhaanahu
wata'aala had guided me to just the right little family, and I presented
the mother of the sleeping children with the bag of food. I watched her place the bag protectively
beside her at the foot of the first child, and with a small wave to her, I
continued on my way for Jummah.
You
know…sometimes I share things that are somewhat painful, and that some might
even consider I shouldn’t share at all…but in this instance, here again, there
is a lesson. The lesson being that even
in our *suffering*…there is a reason…and if we look around us…we find
reaffirmation that there is a reason for everything. And the reason for my small disappointment earlier in the morning
was to humble me in order that I could see that there was someone else
suffering more than myself…there were two small children sleeping who would
awake feeling hungry…that I didn’t even know existed…but Allah subhaanahu wata'aala knew…Allah subhaanahu wata'aala knew…and He knew I
would carry the bag of food with me…and Allah subhaanahu wata'aala knew who would receive it. Subhan’Allah.
As I walked
away from the mother and her children that morning…the pain of my earlier
disappointment was washed away and my heart was uplifted once again. I approached the mosque in a spirit of
thankfulness for all that Allah subhaanahu
wata'aala has done for me in protecting me and taking care of me, and for facilitating
my intention for Umrah. Al-hamdulillah.
As I approached the front entrance of
the mosque I was contemplating where I would head to find my seat for
Jummah. Something was just telling me
that I wanted to enter from somewhere other than the front entrance. I looked over to my right and the doors were
open to an escalator. Mmm…I
thought to myself…I haven’t been on the escalator before! Gosh…I didn’t even know there was an
escalator! Curiosity getting the best
of me, I decided to take the escalator thinking…mmm…I wonder where this will
take me?!
Wow…guess
what? LOL!! On the second floor of the mosque there is another place where
you can make Sa’yi! I never knew that
before! Subhan’Allah. When you step off the escalator, it is a
short walking distance to the opening area where Sa’yi. But what I could not help but notice as I
approached was the large circular area surrounded by railings from which you
can look down upon the scene below of pilgrims on the lower level making
Sa’yi. But the most incredible thing is
the view when you look up. When
you allow your gaze to venture upward, your eyes are filled with a view of the
meticulously painted ceiling whose multi-colored create the most breathtakingly
beautiful collage of color from the light reflecting off the small dangling
crystals of the chandelier.
Masha’Allah… It reminded me of
the mesmerizing effect of stained glass found in many chapels and churches back
West. Subhan’Allah. I so wanted to capture it on film from my
little Kodak *fun* camera…but I resisted the temptation…not wanting to risk
doing something I shouldn’t…as a matter of fact…I had previously lamented
having made so many trips to Mecca and still having come away with no photos whatsoever. But then, despite the fact that I had a
small camera with me to unobtrusively capture some of the outdoor scenes of
Mecca, as it turned out…subhan’Allah…I returned to Taif without having taken a
single photo. And Allah subhaanahu wata'aala knows best.
Gosh! Is it time for Jummah yet! Almost!
LOL!!!
I turned
away from the railing and my appreciation of the beauty of this area of the
mosque, and proceeded once again to seek out a space for salat. As I peered around the thought occurred to
me to call my adopted Mom (Samera’s mom), to let her know to be on *stand-by*
for my return call to her when the time came for the adhan. I somehow thought she would appreciate
hearing it straight from Mecca (via mobile, of course!). At the same time, I was immediately
confronted with my inability to speak Arabic and mom’s inability to understand
English, whereupon I set out to find someone who spoke English and
Arabic who could communicate my message to mom when she answered the
phone. Subhan’Allah, the first set of
young girls that I turned to spoke English!
But guess what?!?! LOL!! They were German and spoke no Arabic!!! What a riot, right? We enjoyed a little chuckle together over
our discovery. Upon resuming my search, instead of finding someone who could
translate for me, I found a spot, again near a column, where I could make
myself comfortable for Jummah.
I sat just
to the left of the column, as, of course, sitting right in front of the column
was not exactly the most desirable spot.
I decided to offer my Sunnah rakats and as I sat in silent dua, tears
began streaming from my eyes. I had so
wanted to let mom hear the adhan, and finding no one to help facilitate my plan
had just frustrated me. Ah, but Allah subhaanahu wata'aala knows…Allah subhaanahu wata'aala knows. {{smile}}
Suddenly
there appeared in front of me a tissue.
Subhan’Allah…there it was happening again…a small deed that I had
previously shown towards others was coming back to me…Al-hamdulillah. I gratefully managed to utter a quiet,
“Shukran” and accepted the tissue, bringing it up under my niqab to wipe the
tears from my cheeks and the sniffles from my nose. Subhan’Allah…there appeared in front of me a second tissue. Gosh…I must be some crybaby! LOL!!
That was it…I
had to turn and find out from whom these kind gestures were coming from! Masha’Allah…what I found was the beautiful
smiling face of a young, teenage girl…and subhan’Allah, sitting right beside
her was the equally beautiful and exactly matching face of her identical twin
sister! Allah Akbar!
Okay, first
question, ”Do you speak English?”
Subhan’Allah, the answer was “Yes!”
Oh, wow! I didn’t want the two
sisters, or their mother sitting further down to the left, to think that there
was something terribly wrong with me, to cause my tears, so I began to explain
the little story about how I had wanted to let my mom back in Taif hear the
adhan from the mobile phone.
Al-hamdulillah, Allah subhaanahu
wata'aala , a/k/a The Facilitator, was beside me once again, and the young
sister sitting closest to me said she would help convey the message. It turned out that the little family sitting
beside me was from Egypt, but were visiting Mecca from their home in Riyadh. Subhan’Allah…twice in the same weekend I was
rescued by Egyptians! {{smile}}
Al-hamdulillah,
when the adhan began I again dialed the mobile number for mom and when she came
to the phone, my new little friend spoke to her for me in Arabic, to let her
know that Aishah wanted here to hear the adhan from Mecca. I was so happy! (Gosh…came those tears again!!)
Mission accomplished, after the adhan finished, I turned off the mobile
phone to sit in wait for the second adhan.
During this time I became more acquainted with the little family sitting
beside me. They were curious, of
course, to learn that I was American and Muslim, and we chatted a short
time about my experiences leading me to accept Islam. With the sound of the final adhan for Jummah we ended our
conversation and the twin sitting closest to me whispered in my ear that she
would translate the kutbah for me.
Masha’Allah… After praying we
sat for a short time together while the other twin tried to teach me Arabic in
5 minutes or less…*lol*. The girls’
mother wasn’t as fluent in English as her daughters, but they drew her into our
conversation with apt translations.
Before long it was time to part company, but before we said our final salaams,
the twin who had translated for mom turned to me and, untwisting a bracelet
made of tiny white beads from her wrist, she took my left arm and re-twisted
the bracelet around my wrist explaining that she made it herself; and that she
wanted me to have it so I would always remember her. Subhan’Allah…to this day…the bracelet remains on my wrist…not
only as a reminder of the day when I met the twins and their mother; but as a
reminder of one the most memorable Umrah’s.
The testimony of faith is saying with
conviction,
"Ash
hadu an la ilaha illa Allah wa ash hadu anna Muhammadar Rasul Allah."
("I
declare there is no god but Allah and I declare that Muhammad is the Messenger
of Allah.")
The first
part, “There is no true god but God,” means that none has
the right to
be worshipped but God alone, and that God has neither partner nor son.
This testimony
of faith is called the Shahada, a simple formula that should be said
with
conviction in order to convert to Islam.
The testimony
of faith is the most important pillar of Islam.
If
I am right, it is from Allah; if wrong, it is from me.
I
ask Allah Almighty to protect you and me from errors
and
from all that displease Him.
"Al-Hamdu-lillahi
rabbil-alameen"
SISTER AISHAH'S ISLAMIC JOURNEY