For the sake of brotherhood in faith...

“How are you, mum?” said a very familiar voice at the other end.

“Fine! How ARE you?” said I, sensing something amiss in the tone of my son’s voice.

“Just feeling like wanting to share something,” he said.

“Aha..”

“Yesterday, I was at the masjid for maghrib prayers. Was doing my solat when suddenly a little boy stepped on my glasses which I put neatly positioned just beneath my face during prostrating. He was running here and there just before it happened,” said he with a sigh.

Silence.

“I am listening,” said I, encouraging him to go on.

“After the jamaah prayers, I turned to see a man, maybe from one of the countries in Africa. He apologized and said that he will pay for the damage. I just nodded my head. Then, he asked me how much I paid for my glasses. I said more than a thousand ringgit.”

“What happened then? You don’t sound too happy.”

“Yeah! Because right after hearing my words, the man suddenly became offensive and lectured to me about Qada’ and Qadar.”

“Hmm..” I knew that something was not quite right, as I know my son’s attitudes and temperaments very well. Never, the one who likes to be lectured at and easily provoked.

“I lashed out. Telling him not to insult my intelligence. I know what Qada’ and Qadar is. As soon as I turned my heels towards the door of the masjid, I noticed all eyes in the masjid were on both of us. People from all over the world.”

The place where my son resides (where my other half and I hop over to spend weekend escapades or to attend to some other activities at the capital), is full of expatriates from the Middle East and Korea. So, the masjid would be full of Muslims from many nations across the globe.

I was quiet, allowing time and some space so my son could gather his words.

“Mum, I could not sleep throughout the night. I lay in bed thinking. We were all one, standing and then stooping in our prayers, devoted to God, the only One. Then, right after giving salams, I was there exchanging harsh words with another, my own brother in faith.”

Still, I did not say anything, wanting to let him pour his words.

“This morning, I had my glasses repaired. It cost me RM300. Then, just now, after the noon congregation prayers, the same man came over to me and apologized again, asking me how much I spent to fix my specs. I told him. Then he reached out to his wallet and handed me the amount. But I said to him, “Please take back your RM 100,” When he asked me why, I answered, “Because I lost my temper over such a small thing.”

My lips involuntarily curved into a slight smile.

“Then, we hugged one another, patted each other’s shoulders while the others in the masjid smiled a wide smile,” continued my son.

“Good to hear that,” I said in a low voice.

“Yes! And I am so overcomed with relief,” said he.

I did not say anything anymore. We talked about other things for a little while longer.

Deep inside me I was so grateful to Allah and was absolutely glad that my son had learnt an important lesson. The value of brotherhood and love amongst mankind (especially Muslims) far surpasses the petty things that we say we own in this short life.