Today, God has opened a new page of my book. I am ashamed of myself. All this while, I have been oblivious to a suffering fellow being, a young, Muslim individual whom I interact with almost every day. I thought I knew this person. I thought I knew everything I had to know about this person. But I was wrong...had always been wrong and never realised it. Right now, I feel remorse, shame and regret. However, I thank Allah this day for His Mercy and for showing me The Way. I thank Allah for still taking the time to guide me and to teach me as He is showing me that He still Loves me.
I have been blessed with a beautiful life. Although I do not come from a wealthy family, I am blessed with wonderful parents who work hard every day in order to support my sister and I. To this day, at the age of 61, my father still holds a humble position in a hotel and my mother works as a telephone operator. We own a family car and the husband and I own a car of our own. We are an average-earning income family. Honestly, we have everything we need, essential for living a simple life. I have nothing to brag about my family, but have everything to be proud of my family. Sounds like an oxymoron. But that is the way it is. Why?
Since I was young, I have grown up with songs and stories about mothers. I remember singing the song, 'Ibu, ibu. Engkaulah, ratu hati ku...'. I also remember singing the same song in Mandarin. I have read many children's stories about the great acts of mothers, their undying love for their children. Until now, there are always noble stories about mothers, never a harsh word about mothers, never a bad advice towards how one should treat one's mother. I love my mother. And it took me years until my adulthood that I actually came to realise how dear my mother is to me and to this family. It took me years to discover that her every act of kindness, of firmness, of being strict, of being hard on me, is an act of unconditional love for me. My mother has suffered ever since she was on the hospital bed, hanging on her dear life to give birth to me. I was a stubborn baby and it had already begun since I was in the comfort of my mother's womb. At the last minute before I was to enter this world, my mother could not undergo a normal birth because I moved and my legs were at the bottom instead of my head. For the safety of both mother and child, my mother had to undergo a c-section. I had always been an obedien child in my youngest days. I was mummy and daddy's precious little girl. Mummy had stayed home to nuture me and bring me up the best that she could. She was there twenty-four-seven, taking care of my health, my studies. Together with daddy, my mother never refused me anything I asked for. When I disobeyed her or did anything to anger her, my mother would give a sound scolding and her scolding was enough to make me cry. But after that she would hold me in her arms and kiss me and tell me and she was sorry and that she loved me so much. Then everything would be back to normal. She was a strict mother, always making sure that I was steady in my studies and that I would get tops in my class. My room was always filled with toys. And if they were not enough, I would get new toys over the weekends to top up my collection. Like a child born with a silver spoon in her mouth, I was showered with Barbie Dolls of every edition, cooking sets, books and whatever a child lavishly needs. I was never deprived of anything as a child. But I was always disciplined. Well disciplined. My mother was very strict about religion and since a young age, my mother had taught me and guided me to pray and read the Qur'an. When she could not teach me anymore because of her limited religious knowledge, she employed teachers after teachers to teach me. My mother made sure, I was all-roundedly nutured in terms of my body and mind.
A lot changed when I started to emerge as teenager. My mother could no longer be a stay-home mum. She had to work to contribute to the ever-increasing household expenses. So she became so much more protective over me. Back then, I did not understand why. I was not allowed to go for camps when I became a school counsellor in secondary school. I was given very strict rules to obey and I did not have the freedom that all the other teenagers I knew had. At that time, I felt like I was a bird, caged and deprived from its freedom and ability to fly. It breaks me to even say this now, but back then, I hated my mother and I remember writing a lot of hateful stuff about my mother. I hated her for stopping me from doing so many things that I was missing out on in my teenage life. I changed. For the worse.
My mother's worst days resided from the age I was 12 till I was 25 years old. 13 years of suffering. I cannot bring myself to relate the unforgivable things that I had done to my mother. One thing is enough to magnify my sins...that is...I have made my mother cry countless times. That is enough for God to curse me, to despise me. When The Almighty did not abandon me and my mother, He opened my heart and my eyes to discover the beauty of my mother, I had realised that I have been taking advantage of the greatest love of all. I had realised that I had been oblivious to how much I meant to my mother. In her eyes, I would always be her baby she has to protect, she has to guide, she has to nuture and provide for. Only Allah will be able to display my mother's great deeds. Only Allah has the complete records of the sacrifices my mother has made and that have made her the most inspiring and admirable mother she is today. I choke back tears of remorse and regret as I am typing. I recall the days when I used to break my mother's heart numerous times.
Today, it was revealed to me that a child whom I have known for almost a year, has never knew her real mother or her real father. She has never known a mother's love. She was brought up my somebody she calls 'grandma'. When 'grandma' passed away, the little girl was given to the daughter of that 'grandma'. Since then, she has been living there. I have never known the real background of this girl until today. I am ashamed to admit that I had never bothered to ask her about her life and what she was going through. But today, Allah has proven to me that He still loves me and has taken off the 'blindfold' that has blinded me to a heartreaking truth for so long. Here is a child, who has never tasted a mother's love, who has never basked in the luxury of parental love. Allah has shown me today, that I have failed to love this child, to understand where this child was coming from, to empathise with her unfortunate destiny. My heart broke when I had a conversation with this child today. In a nutshell, here is what she shared with me, "I never see my mother or my father before. I don't know if I got brother or sister." In terms of blood relations, this child has no clue who her relations are. She is practically alone. If my heart was made of glass, anybody would have been able to hear it crush. It was crushed and at that time after our conversation, I was ashamed of myself, I was ashamed towards Allah. At the same time, I felt like it was a sign from God. A sign for me to adopt this child since I have been trying hard for one. And here, I felt like God had placed in my hands, a child who is hungry for love, a child who is abandoned by her parents (as I had found out later), a child who is all innocent and alone in this world. This child has nobody to teach her the ways of the world. This child has nobody to teach her how to love, obey and worship Allah. This child has nobody to hug her through the night and forgive her even if she does wrong. This child has no mother's love like I have.
- Jaslina Yassin
I thank Allah for His Mercy, for without Him, nothing is possible and nothing is blessed.
All praise and thanks be to Allah, My Lord. - Jaslina Yassin
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