Warmth

this is not a story of a medical student, but of a muslim girl.

monday morning in BHH

8am: arrived early. walk into the ward, saw the man on the waiting lounge, giving his back. past 60 year old i presumed. Holy Quran, he seemed to be reciting. maybe i should leave him alone.

830am: returned to the ward. he's still there as i walked past. need to page my registra, already late. stopped on my track, turned back and gave him salam. his eyes were wet. sat down next to him, it was his wife. she was in the theater for knee replacement. he looked anxious, wished could give him a comforting hug. we exchanged names, he had 2 bright and successful children. he said he's reading Ar-Rahman, asking help from up above for his wife. insya Allah, i said the same prayer to his beloved. i really wished i could help more than what i did. i hope everyone in this hospital would benefit from his deed. he's a good man. i wished him well and went to page my registra.

1230pm: he's still there. stopped on my way, he said his wife should be back to the ward soon quoting from the operater. alhamdulillah, the surgery was a success. his eyes were wet. he showed me the book he's reading. i brought him down to show the sacred space, should he wanna perform zuhur. he's grateful and i was pleased.i realised he's almost running to get back to the ward. aching feeling. he must be missing his wife very much. i believe the wife is a good person to deserve someone like him. i hope for both of them eternal happiness.

maybe living in this foreign land made me write this.

maybe witnessing the unconditional love made me write this.

maybe realising how blessed we are in different ways made me write this.

it's ok.