This morning I watched my brother struggle to button up his school uniform shirt. His stubby little fingers kept pushing the tiny white button through the hole, but the other set of fingers on the receiving end of the fabric seemed to push it back out instead of pulling it out through the hole. The whole task of buttoning seems easy for a normal person person like you and I, but not for someone like him. Even after several failed attempts he patiently repeats the process, thinking he’d get there after a few tries. I, watching, had no patience. It wasn’t really because he kept getting it wrong, but because it was painful to witness how much effort he was putting in just to push some buttons through their holes; how laborious of a task it is to him on the daily, while it is trivial to me- I don’t even have to think or look at it. Indeed what was worse was that I saw the frustration playing on his face but his patient fingers kept pushing on. Such determination, my habiby. Sometimes I think that he notices his own limitations and does get (and can get) frustrated that he’s not like everyone else, or that no one understands what he wants. I cannot even begin to imagine how that must be like..
I couldn’t just sit there and watch. I had to guide his hands and help him get it right. I also had to say Alhamdulillah. How can I not, while an ahl Jannah was born right into my household? Alhamdulillah.