A Missed Opportunity

I had been waiting one whole semester for the opportunity. Being one of the high committee members of a charity club in campus, I was really looking forward to the event. A McD Tour with the orphans. But since it came up rather abruptly and clashed with the tahlil in hometown, I really couldn’t do anything about it.

Last year, I was in the committee of a purely entertainment-material event. Although it was one injected with Islamic motives, you can’t say a Nasyid concert is much of a self-satisfactory thing. Sure, I contributed and the team worked hard for the event to become a huge success but it’s not something you look back and remember fondly of. Not to me at least.

This year, I joined a charity club and was surprisingly nominated thus won a post in the high committee. I had wanted something different in the beginning of my second year. Something I could contribute to and have fun at the same time rather than just be involved in something screaming “For Fun!”. I’m totally loving it although I have to juggle with a pretty tight schedule.

I love children and nothing beats seeing a contented smile of a less fortunate child with just a simple gesture of kindness. You have no idea how warm and fuzzy it makes you feel inside. I’m so bummed I missed that opportunity…

I have this secret wish too… that in return for this, God would forgive my sins.

Dari Abu Hurairah r.a. katanya Rasulullah s.a.w. bersabda; “Orang yang bertanggungjawab mengurus anak yatim, baik dari
keluarga sendiri atau tidak maka aku dan dia seperti 2 ini kelak di Syurga.” Rasulullah s.a.w. mengisyaratkan dengan merapatkan
jari telunjuk dan jari tengah(ertinya berdekatan). –Sahih Muslim

I missed out on something else too. A birthday celebration with my dearest friend Munirah who turns 20 today. It sure could’ve been one at Italianni’s, buddy. Happy 20th! God bless. =)

—xxx—

During my second year of nursing school our professor gave us a quiz. I breezed through the questions until I read the last one: “What is the first name of the woman who cleans the school?” Surely this was a joke. I had seen the cleaning woman several times, but how would I know her name? I handed in my paper, leaving the last question blank. Before the class ended, one student asked if the last question would count toward our grade. “Absolutely,” the professor said. “In your careers, you will meet many people. All are significant. They deserve your attention and care, even if all you do is smile and say hello.” I’ve never forgotten that lesson. I also learned her name was Dorothy. –Joann C. Jones

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