Saturday, September 4, 2010


Sometimes we take things for granted..

The life that we had..
The loved ones around us..
The money that never seems enough..
The clothes that we wear..
People always wanted more of everything, anything..
Rarely, we looked around..
Look at those in need..
Look at those who had less..
Look at those who struggle to live..- yet never once complaining

Today, I went to Puteri Harapan. It’s been a weekly routine since I moved here. Sometimes twice or trice per week. Had planned to go n meet my anak2 usrah since Wednesday, but was caught up with other social obligations.

Went to buy some sampul duit raya and some cookies first. I want to bake some cookies for them, but too preoccupied with other stuff, so main ngelat and bought some choc chips cookies in fancy boxes instead (later I realize that my choc chip cookies taste a lot better). Arrived, greeted by those kids that always seems excited when they see me (I always wonder, why.. I hardly memorized their names… =( sorry.. but it’s not my fault, there are more than 100 of them!).

Asked for angah, but she went out with the warden. So, asked whether Dillah was there, and was told that she already went back home. The girl said “emak dia kan dah takde”.. and I blur-ly asked “emak dia gi mane?”. . her mom died. Hit by a car while crossing the road. My sweet Dillah, always the most punctual one in usrah, and always the 1st completed her homework, never once she missed my spm English class.. my sweet Dillah who had suffered the lost of a father, whose life had been so difficult, yet never giving up.. now, she lost her mother.

The 1st time I went to her home was because her mom was sick, but didn’t want to be warded.. “takdo oghe nk jago hok bongsu”.. (no one to look after) her 12year-old brother. Her eldest sister is still in college, and her elder brother is still studying somewhere. The house was in a really ‘dhaif’ state.. her mum worked as a kitchen helper during the day, and sewing clothes when she had time. I remember cautiously stepping on the floor as it creaked under my foot.. here and there you can see holes straight to the ground. Today, I went to her home for the second time, greeted by some unfamiliar face –her uncle-. She’s still in her praying cloth. Still being strong, still smiling when she saw me. And it crosses my heart: the thought, why? she had suffered enough. . “Allah uji sebab sayang.. Allah uji sebab dia mampu hadapi..” I said that in my heart over and over again..

Silently, I pray.. May Allah gives her patients to face the test, May Allah gives her strength to carry on..


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