Do you remember me, Saffiya?

It was my first winter being a muslimah. I was working part time in an islamic school.......and was really getting to know my deen. I was 17 yrs old and not yet married. The summer before, a family arrived in my city from Libya. It consisted of the parents, their 4 daughters and 2 sons. The 2 sons being the oldest, and Saffiya, being the baby of the family. She was 13. The closest sibling in age to her was 22.

When her family arrived, there was a lot of noise going on around the school. This family was well known in Libya.....religious scholars loved them, and they were practicing the deen to a point that some ppl would just wish for. All the women in the family wearing niqab....masha Allah.

Within a very few short months....all the sisters were married, followed soon after by the brothers......and Saffiya was alone with her parents for the first time in her 13 yrs of life. Alone with her parents, no friends, no family..........in a strange country......oh, how I hurt for her. Sure her sisters weren't far away, and the brothers were always around......but you know how it just wouldn't be the same.......

Her father was an old blind man....always seen on the arm of one of the children....wearing a white galabiya and abaya. I spoke to her mother on a couple of occasions....they didn't speak english.....and I just did what I could by saying Salaam...and having someone interpret for me. I even struck up a slight friendship with one of her sisters. But truly.....it was Saffiya who I liked.
She was 13 yrs old.....and knew mountains about islam.....but couldn't express herself cuz she couldn't speak english. She was a heavy girl....with thick dark eyebrows and dark hair under her hijab......not the pretty Canadian style...u know? Many times she sat in class so bored......not able to participate......and would seek out ways to get out of class. She'd go to the bathroom for half an hour......find an excuse to go to the office......or just slip out between classes. Most of the time....I would be the one to find her.

And I'd sit with her and we'd talk.....well, try to. She'd tell me that she didn't like drinking from the fountain....that she really wanted a cup. So I'd bring her in the kitchen and give her mine......she'd say that she's bored....or that she misses the ruckus that used to be in her house.......and I'd try to soothe her....and we'd laugh about not really being able to communicate.
It was the joy of going to that school, knowing that Saffiya would be there.

Then one day, Saffiya was absent. I asked around and learned that her elderly father had passed away. We prayed for him at the school. I could just imagine how their family must feel. They gave up their lives in Libya......took all their kids and moved to this strange land.....and one by one....their family decreased in size. Oh sure....by marriage is a great thing......but by death?

Sigh.

Inna lillahi wa inna alayhi rajeeoon.

After 3 days, Saffiya came back. I went to her class to look for her...and she wasn't there......I checked the kitchen, she wasn't there either. And then finally, I found her at the back exit doors watching the first snow of the winter. It had been snowing all morning.....and rather than the day being freezing cold, it was rather just a really crisp day. I approached her and offered her salaams....trying to think how to tell her that i'm sad her father died.

She returned my salaams....and before I could fumble thru my condolences...she sat on the stairs and told me.....today is the first time I've seen snow. And then softly...."I had planned that when I see the snow, I was going to bring some to my fathers hands and tell him about it." She choked. And then softly...started crying.

I sat there beside her.....not really much older than her....not knowing what to do or say....not feeling like her aunt, or even a person of authority.....I just felt sad....and like I was her friend. So I put my arm on her shoulders...and said..."I'm sorry, Saffiya". And prayed that being beside her and sharing in her pain would give her comfort.

Not knowing how to be comfortable in the silence....I just started rambling away......started talking about my life and the snow.....I told her about when I was 9 yrs old and the snow was so deep, I built a tunnel underneath it....I told her about when we went to a cabin in the winter and got snowed in for a day.....I told her about tobagganing down Centennial Hill.....I told her about when my father fell thru the ice up to his knees....I told her about the Xmas tree that my uncle stuck in the middle of the lake just before Xmas.....he bored a hole in the ice and stuck the tree in.....and that day.....all of us kids skated around the tree hanging ornaments and singing carols. I told her about how you get burned by snow.....I told her how you shouldn't eat the snow if it's yellow...and laughed.....I told her about ice skating, and frozen toes......I told her about winter hats and scarves and the endless search for matching gloves......I just rambled on and on....trying to get her to stop crying.....and not really knowing if she understood all that I was sharing.

Soon enough....her sobs quieted.....and only sniffles could be heard....and then I noticed that she was paying attention to me.

Prolly wondering what on earth I was going on and on about. And in a totally spontaneous moment....I grabbed her hand....hugged her and dragged her out into the school playground...running. We ran to the swings....and I started pushing her. The snowflakes landing on her face and hands......I told her that the snow was kissing her....and she burst into giggles......understanding that one. I pushed her higher and higher......and then I told her....LOOK! I can't even tell who is crying anymore....you or the snow? And she kept yelling to me...HIGHER...HIGHER!

Finally, I jumped in the swing next to her....and started swinging myself.....hanging my head back...mouth open.....told her I was going to eat all the snow and get fat......she started copying me.....and we laughed so much.........until finally the bell rang.....and she had to go back to class...........I hugged her again......and she told me....."now I know that snow cries too." And smiled at me.

She only stayed till the winter break....and then they moved. Not sure what happened.....but she really needed a good school to help her with her english. I miss her. We shared a moment, u know? Isn't that what life is all about? Moments shared? You'd be surprised when Allah sends someone to you.....sometimes you find that support, that friend...in the strangest way......
Embrace it.....because moments are all we have in this world....we are just passing thru......and cherish what you have. Say Alhamdulillah.

I hope you still remember me, Saffiya. I love you for the sake of Allah.