This is labeled as a, "Bedouin proverb," but we all know that means, "Islamic," right?
"The good lasts not forever,
nor does the bad."
Tonight, I need to remember that nothing lasts forever. Tomorrow is my last day of school with the children. They have been the closest people to me this past year. I have no friends in Egypt. I have no family in Egypt. They are who I relate to and our time will be done.
At the same time as I mourn the ending, I am glad to be done with the little buggers. They know it's almost summer vacation and they have already checked out of school. Ah, to be a child on the last day of school!
It was a time of complete jubilation, wasn't it? To feel the sudden surge of freedom? It was this moment that you wished for and checked off a calendar day by day. Yes, all good things come to she who waits.
Now, tomorrow is the day.
It's been hard. It's been a hard time. I'll still have two weeks remaining past the children's departure. That will be even harder. I'll be eyeing the door and knowing I have to be nice.
I'm not very nice. I can claim many, many adjectives but I don't claim, "nice". That word is akin to "inobstrusive" or "nonproblematic" and I am too much my own person to fit into someone else's definition of who I should be.
Inshahallah, I will be able to get free from a lot of twisted up, stuffed down feelings once I step away from the position I've held for the last three years. I handed in my laptop today. I cleared it free from my personality and gave it back like the foster child it was. It wasn't mine; it was only on loan.
Nothing much is really ours.
Tonight, during dinner, a man's voice rose up from the street. At first, I thought it was another cart rolling through selling something. It was really a beautiful voice, mashahallah, so I wondered what he was selling. My husband made a joke that it was the kofta my boy was whinning that he wanted for dinner (but wasn't on the menu).
Then, I realized that the man was reciting Quran so he would have money to eat. We were eating salad, spaghetti, zuchini with sauce, and stuffed green peppers and eggplant. There was watermelon when we were done. He had nothing but his Quran.
I gave a pound coin to my son (who was refusing to eat anyway) and took him to the door. I pointed to the man turning the corner onto the next street. I told him to run and give it to the man. Mr. Boo ran very quickly for a little guy with no food in his system. When he came back, he had this huge smile.
"The man told me, 'Allah sahilik'!"
The man blessed my son.
That money wasn't ours. It belonged to the man. We were only holding onto it for him until he came around to collect it. I explained that to my boy.
Nothing lasts forever. Not our jobs, our relationships, our hard times, our good times, our fortunes, our fame, our enemies, and our lives. Only Allah is forever. Allah endures. That's why remembering Allah puts our lives into perspective.