Hushed Confessions | ✔

{4} Sabr

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Malik dropped me off home. He talked to my father about what happened at the masjid (mosque). I left the two men to talk as I instantly went in search for my mother. Lots of uncles and aunties were at our house to help my family cope. They also brought a lot of food for us. I went into my bedroom, where a small figure looked at the photo album that I left behind. It was my little brother, Hamza.

He sat on my bed, flipping through pictures of our uncle. Hamza was only twelve years old. He and my older brother, Ridwan, looked exactly like each other. The only difference was that Ridwan had facial hair. Both had dark wavy black hair, the same straight nose, and a well defined jaw. Hamza was almost as tall as me, and he was my little brother.

I quietly walked towards my dresser. Hamza noticed my presence, but he did not look up from the album. I took out some of the pins that held my hijab together and left it on loosely around my head.

"Is Mom okay?" I asked, quietly.

The air around us was thick. Hamza's face remained expressionless. His brown eyes not looking away from the picture as he croaked, "No." His voice was cracked as if he'd been crying.

I sat besides him on the bed. My eyes landed on the picture in front of us. It was my uncle. He held onto baby Hamza as he grinned widely for the camera. His oak dark eyes sparkled with amusement at the child on his lap. 

Baby Hamza was eating a mango that got all over his naked chest. Hamza gave a toothy smile to the camera. I remembered that day so well. I was the one who snapped the picture.

I placed a hand on his shoulder, "I miss him too," I said, softly.

Hamza didn't waver his eyes away from the photo. His fingers traced over my beloved uncle's face. "Why is Allah so cruel?" he murmured.

"Allah didn't do this to hurt us," I replied, carefully examining Hamza's shaking fingers.

Silent tears ran down his flushed cheeks as he finally looked up at me. The pain his eyes held broke my heart. I instantly pulled him close to me. His head settled against my own shoulder as I cuddled him close. His arms wrapped around me as his breathing became uneven.

"Shh, deep breaths," I advised in his ear gently.

He listened.

"Nice easy breaths," I continued while patting his hair.

"W-Why did Allah d-do this?" he cried in broken words.

I placed a small kiss on his forehead. "It's a trial. This life was not meant to be easy, sweetheart. It was meant to be hard. Some trials are easier than others. This is our test, Hamza. This is when our iman (faith) goes up. This is when we ask Allah for guidance."

"Sajdaa is right," said a strained voice. It was Ridwan, my older brother. Hamza and I both looked to the doorway. Ridwan stood leaning against the door frame. A sad smile planted on his face. "Allah never gives His believers a test that they can't handle," he said as he joined us on the bed.

"But it hurts so much," whispered Hamza.

Ridwan simply brushed a stray hair away from Hamza's forehead. Hamza still stayed in my arms. "Sabr, Hamza. We need to have Sabr," replied Ridwan.

Hamza rubbed the tears from his eyes as he sat up, "Patience?"

"Yes. With patience comes ease. All good things come, but it takes a while," I said softly. "This pain right there," I pointed to his heart, "it will heal over time. It's a wound that needs to repair itself."

Ridwan ruffled Hamza's hair. "Kiddo, we're family. We will get through this together," he reassured.

I felt pride swell in my chest as I watched my older brother step out of his comfort zone to help others. Ridwan is usually a quiet person, who kept to himself. After our uncle's death, Ridwan had been helping our father manage. My father was completely distraught knowing that his brother-in-law was no longer walking this dunya (world) anymore. Ridwan had taken up the leadership role as my parents healed.

"Will Allah make this pain in my heart go away?" asked Hamza, sorrow coating his every word.

"Yes because Allah will never abandon you," said Ridwan as he closed the photo album.

The three of us sat quietly. No matter what happened, I knew that I would always have my family to support me. As my brothers and I sat, we relished in the fact that at least Allah kept us together during this difficult time. Thank you, Allah, for blessing me with my family.

Assalamualaikum!

I have a chemistry and spanish test tomorrow, so I'm currently stressed beyond belief. But, hey, it's Ramadan. My favorite time of the year.

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