I was 19 years old and on my way to visit a friend of a friend. I was not Muslim yet and was just getting exposed to many of the traditions and cultures within Islam. We were paying a quick visit to a Lady staying here temporarily from Kuwait. I will never forget the image that day. After ringing the doorbell a lady opened the door. She was tall and slender wearing a long house dress with a square neckline that was a grayish blue in color. She looked elegant and kind but only spoke Arabic. She talked to my friend as we remained in the doorway. The next thing I saw was a little boy about 5 years old peeking behind his mother. He was bald in the obvious cancer patient kind of way. The natural reaction of pity mastered any other thought or feeling at that time but just stood still and smiled while my friends conversed in Arabic. As we drove off my friend was telling me about this lady coming here for treatment for her son. Her husband went back to Kuwait for a short time to visit his other wife and family. This woman seemed to carry herself well when dealing with a son who had cancer and a husband away for some of the treatment to be with his other wife. Despite the fact that I didn't quite understand the polygamy issue yet I still did not judge it along with much acquired respect for it. It's funny how short-lived experiences can resurface into our memories holding more significance than when it happened. Passerby's that later flood our minds wishing we only paid more attention to them at the time.
The doorbell rings and as the door opens a little boy peeks from behind; bald in the obvious cancer patient kind of way. Déjà vu. This time I'm the lady opening the door.