Can everything change overnight? Can the plans made, dreams built, and lives crumble one by one and remain under the rubble? In the deep darkness of the night, can an entire city need the faint light emanating from a candle?
February 6th, 4:17 AM. A great disaster that lifts people from their warm beds, and the city’s lights go out before there’s time to escape. Can’t see hand in front of face.
Hearts, waiting for hours behind the rubble piled upon them, how desperately they wish to cling to a glimmer of hope. Perhaps a voice, maybe a breath of air, or a sliver of light.
I pray on my prayer rug for all those experiencing this. The shadow of the dim candle illuminating my room falls in front of me. The presence of thousands of souls dependent on even this shadow seeps into me. I find myself feeling ashamed of my warm room, the bed beside me, the air I can deeply inhale. While they are in that condition, I don’t feel deserving of these blessings.
“La hawla wa la kuwwata illa billahi’l-aliyyi’l-azim.”
I can’t stand sitting here, feeling helpless, so I ask God for a way to help. Minutes later, as I’m still repeating this prayer, my phone rings.
At first, I don’t pay attention, but then I remember it’s the middle of the night. Thinking it must be something important, I answer the phone.
It’s a friend calling.
Without any delay, she starts talking, and I am immediately struck with surprise by what she says.
“We are arranging a truck to leave early in the morning from a nearby city, and I immediately thought of you. Pack whatever you have at home that could be useful for the earthquake victims, make boxes, and write on them what’s inside, okay? Let’s make things as easy as possible for the people there.”
Without hesitation, I confirm and as soon as I hang up the phone, I can’t hold back my tears.
A Lord so responsive to the helplessness of His servant! I realize that we are very weak, and He is the true possessor of power and strength. With this coincidence I’ve experienced, I offer my thanks again and immediately inform my family.
Together, we start sorting out useful items and packing them into boxes. Thankfully, we finish quickly. Our eyes occasionally fill with tears for the lives lost, but we also try to remain hopeful for those who can be saved.
I load the car to the brim and set off. Accompanied by prayers, the journey is short, and I finally arrive at the site.
There are a lot of people bustling around. I can’t help but smile a little. Despite recently losing much hope in humanity, the fact that we still haven’t lost our sense of solidarity slightly comforts me.
Without waiting, I get out of the car and, with the help of a few people, we start moving the boxes to the truck, one by one. I even make a few friends in the process.
We close the truck’s doors, signal the driver, and soon the vehicle starts moving. Our eyes follow it, sending prayers and good wishes.
As this happens, the day breaks. With mixed emotions, I watch the sky a bit longer. Even if miles separate us, this sky embraces each of us below. It unites our hearts and souls, whether through our pains or our prayers.
With a bittersweet smile, I wave goodbye to the now distant truck, sending greetings to thousands of people whose names I don’t know. Greetings to you all, greetings.
