Paper Cup

A woman who had a mission, even while sleeping it showed, this was no game. The responsibility of her family's well-being behind her, a wonderful job position, her elderly mother and father with her on Hajj. Bright smiles slipped over her face while passing in deep thought. She slept with a hand lightly touching her mother's fragile arm.

To my left slept a strong and determined Mother and daughter from Pakistan. Gentle, loving and full of faith. With three brothers "to boot" and their father, these people never settled for less than getting the most out of their Hajj. And sleeping to my right was my cherished friend who I had only met casually a few times from Malaysia.

A strong woman full of gentle love, who with her husband left her four children for the sake of Allah to go home to Mecca. Zipping up the left side pocket of my backpack I saw something wiggling in the air to my left. Turning my head slowly as if in a dream I saw Asmah with a paper cup being held out to me.

My eyebrows leaped across my face, "Asmah, where did you get it?"; she smiled a quick grin "take it". Discarding the cool metal zipper I grabbed the paper cup, hand slightly shaking in joy, "Jasakum Allah khair Asmah".

She gave me her smile that meant "don't mention it". As my eyes re-surveyed the room I saw Aglag had already started the great climb over the sleeping bodies, mattresses, hand bags, slippers, blankets, shoes, juice boxes, water containers to the tent flap. I jumped up navigating my climb.