She's My Sister*
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Creator: Muhammad Alshareef
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Format: text
Identifier: http://www.khutbah.com/en/return_allah/sister.php
Language: en
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Subject: tazkiyah
Title: She's My Sister*
Created on: Tue Jan 29 11:04:10 -0500 2008
Updated on: Tue Jan 29 11:04:10 -0500 2008
Version: 1
Abstract: ... My eyes welled and the tears slipped down both cheeks. I pondered my sisters grizzly sickness. The doctors had informed my father in private that there was not much hope Noorah was going to outlive the disease. She wasn't told, so I wondered who hinted to her. Or was it that she could sense the truth? "What are you thinking about Hanan?" Her voice was sharp. "Do you think I am just saying this because I am sick? I hope not. In fact, I may live longer than people who are not sick. How long are you going to live Hanan? Perhaps twenty years? Maybe forty? Then what?" Through the dark she reached for my hand and squeezed gently. "There's no difference between us; we're all going to leave this world to live in Paradise or agonize in Hell. Listen to the words of Allah: Anyone who is pushed away from the Fire and shown into Jannah will have triumphed. I left my sister's room dazed, her words ringing in my ears: “May Allah guide you Hanan - don't forget your prayer.” I heard pounding on my door at eight o'clock in the morning. I don't usually wake up at this time. There was crying and confusion. O Allah, what happened? Noorah’s condition became critical after Fajr; they took her to the hospital immediately. Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji'oon. There wasn't going to be any trips this summer. It was written that I would spend the summer at home. It felt like an eternity had gone by when it was one o'clock in the afternoon. Mother phoned the hospital. "Yes. You can come and see her now." Dad's voice had changed, and mother could sense something had gone deathly wrong. We left immediately. Where was that avenue I used to travel and thought was so short? Why was it so very long now? Where was the cherished crowd and traffic that would give me a chance to gaze left and right? Everyone, just move out of our way! Mother was shaking her head in her hands crying as she made du'a for her Noorah. We arrived at the hospital’s main entrance. One man was moaning, while another was involved in an accident. A third man’s eyes were iced. You couldn’t tell if he was dead or alive. Noorah was in intensive care. We skipped stairs to her floor. The nurse approached us. "Let me take you to her." As we walked down the aisles the nurse went on expressing how sweet of a girl Noorah was. She somewhat reassured Mother that Noorah’s condition had gotten better than what it was in the morning. "Sorry. No more than one visitor at a time,” the nurse said. This was the intensive care unit. Past the flurry white robes, through the small window in the door, I caught my sister’s eyes. Mother was standing beside her. After about two minutes, mother came out unable to control her crying. "You may enter and say salaam to her on the condition that you do not speak too long," they told me. "Two minutes should be enough." "How are you Noorah? You were fine last night sister, what happened?" We held hands; she squeezed harmlessly. "Even now, alhamdulillah, I'm doing fine." "Alhamdulillah...but...your hands are so cold." I sat on her bedside and rested my fingers on her knee. She jerked it away. "Sorry, did I hurt you?" "No, it is just that I remembered Allah's words.” Waltafatul saaqu bil saaq (One leg will be wrapped to the other leg [in the death shroud]). "Hanan pray f... [Full Article...]
