… by all the condolences people offer me over here.
Every day different people from our village come over, bringing me signs of life and hope: fresh eggs, fresh milk and their wishes for Allah’s baraka and patience.
They say: it is like if the mournful person wears a black shirt.
They say: every offer of condolences is like if it washes the dirt of sorrow away from the shirt.
They say: one day the shirt will become white and the mournful person will become happy again…
I like this idea and I really feel warmly welcomed and comforted by their compassion.
Blessed Wednesday to you!