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My grandmother would say that

Any time something devastating would happen in her household

So much so that chests would heave

All senses knocked out

With silent cries and dry eyes

But a never ending pain,

She was always the one who could take it.

As though Angels would come a few moments before the tragedy

And just place a patch upon her heart

To bandage the part that was just about to be broken,

See. Allah takes care of us.

She would always say there was trust

In a home where Allah is thought about

There is ease

In a home where His help is sought out

But there is always pain,

And it’s not an easy race

As life runs ahead and decides to move on

While you stay at the start line lingering a moment longer

And life wasn’t easy for her,

Fourteen kids and only four survived,

Orphan, alone, only option was to strive

Yet she knew, Allah always provides.

So we learn from these stories

The beauty of security

For though we may never feel secure

We always have The Almighty

Who loves more than anything else

Who will forgive you when no one else will

Who will patch up the pain

Keep you sane

And give you every chance to attain

The Higher Goal.