Reflections from Umrah by MINA SHAHINFAR
“H
old my hand tight, and don’t open your eyes!” my younger sister exclaimed as she lunged herself toward me moments before we entered the gates of Masjid-Al-Haram. It was a calm hour of the night, just past two in the morning. Every corner was filled with people as far as the eye could see. I accepted my sister’s orders and proceeded to walk with my eyes shut. I felt the energy of everything and everyone around me: men marked by their kufi’s and shaved heads, walking in their ihram attire. Women dressed in simple, black abayas pacing carefully to avoid tripping over fabric under their feet. Children, sleepy but curious with their eyes wandering, sipping on cups of zam-zam water. The sound of my heartbeat rushing through my body. “Mom, can you see it? Are we almost there?” At that point, every other member of my family with me could no longer form words. I knew from the sound of my mother’s cry that we had arrived right in front of the Holy Ka’bah. That was our cue.
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