Aisha was lying in bed 207 in the main block of Sumathi hospital, a hospital used by the less privileged in society. The shoddy furnishings that made up the ward revealed the quality of the hospital. Dark, deep cuts ran across Aisha's pretty face. Salma and Shrin, who were both 16 years old, stood by her bedside. Their style of clothing was in line with the latest fashions in teen magazines. Salma was normally a poised young lady, but she looked somewhat uncomfortable on that particular morning.

Aisha looked at Salma and Shrin and asked them in a weak voice, "Where is Chitti?"

"She's outside," replied Salma.

"Do you want me to call her?" asked Shrin.

"I want to tell her something," Aisha said in a fragile tone.

"You stay with her Salma, I'll go and get Aunt Jemilah," Shrin instructed as she left the room in search of Aunt Jemilah. Salma nodded.

Salma was left alone with Aisha. She went and sat on the chair nearby the bed. She placed her elbow on the edge of the bed in which Aisha was lying and placed her hands on her cheeks. A few minutes had passed and Shrin was still not back. Salma lowered her left hand and looked at her watch without making it obvious that she was bored. This time, when she raised her head and looked at Aisha, she froze. A tinge of concern and a shiver ran through her body when she saw Aisha's face was losing color.

"Goodness! What's going to happen?" she thought to herself.

Salma stood up and stroked Aisha's head, "Don't worry, you'll be all right," Salma said as Aisha struggled to fight back her tears.

Aisha had been in the hospital for the past three days after a truck had run her down. Salma, reluctant at first to pay her sick classmate a visit, agreed to pay a visit to Aisha in the hospital only after Shrin told her that Prophet Muhammad (peace and blessings be upon him) had highly recommended visiting the old and the sick.

"I'm sorry, because of me everybody's summer vacation is ruined," Aisha said with guilt and sadness.

Aisha was always considerate, helpful, and concerned about others. Her helpless state caused her more pain than her wounds. She always found happiness in helping others. She hated troubling anyone and always preferred to help than being helped. Now, she thought herself to be a bother and this made her feel miserable.

Salma held Aisha's hand tightly and said, "No, not at all. Our dear friend is more important to us than our vacation."

Aisha's lips curved slightly into a smile and she said, "Thank you."

"Salma, can you please open that drawer? Aisha asked pointing to a table that was in the corner of the room. The table looked old and crooked and had a rusted handle. Salma went to the table and opened the drawer. "Take that envelope from there," said Aisha. It was a long white envelope. Salma was surprised to see that it was addressed to her. She looked at Aisha who nodded.

"That is for you, Salma," Aisha said.

Just then, Shrin returned with Jemilah. Jemilah, a woman who seemed to be in her mid-forties, looked elegant in her black burka and scarf in spite of her stout stature. Aisha gestured to Jemilah to come and sit next to her.

"Chitti," Aisha wanted to say something, but found it difficult to speak.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Jemilah gently touched Aisha's cheek.

"Chitti, they will take me to the operation theater for my surgery in an hour," Aisha paused and then continued, "Before I leave I want to tell you something." She paused again for a minute and then continued, "Since I have known you, you have taken care of me like your own daughter. I never saw my parents." Aisha could not hold back her tears this time. She held Jemliah's hand and kissed it with her dwindling energy.

"You have been like my mother, Chitti, you are my mother. Only Allah knows whether I will be alive or dead after the surgery," said Aisha as she fought for breath.

"In sha' Allah you'll be fine, sweetheart," Jemilah said, holding back her emotions while Aisha spoke.

Jemilah was a strong woman who had raised her sister's daughter after her sister and her brother-in-law had died in a car accident. Now, she was seeing Aisha in the same condition that her sister and brother-in-law were in 14 years ago. Though Jemilah had two children of her own, she took care of Aisha, who was always obedient and well-mannered Aisha was like her own daughter. The doctor had informed her that Aisha would need to undergo surgery. Jemilah found it difficult to see her beloved niece like this.

"Yes, Chitti, I do want to live if Allah wills, and I always want to be of help to you and everyone," Aisha said sincerely.

Jemilah hugged her niece, "In sha' Allah, you'll be fine after the surgery." Jemilah hugged her niece's forehead, but Aisha's hand was no longer holding her hand.

"No!" Jemilah shrieked. An icy shiver ran up Salma's spine.

Aisha was bleeding and she saw blood on her hands and pillow and then she shuddered. When Shrin saw the blood, she almost fainted. Salma froze.

"Call the doctor immediately," Jemilah told Salma.

"Please call the doctor," Jemilah cried.

Salma was unable to move and her heart was beating wildly. Shrin dialed the emergency number on the intercom. The doctor arrived with two nurses and checked Aisha's pulse.

"Hurry, we need to rush her into the operating theater," the doctor told the nurses.

Before they took Aisha to the operating theater, her pulse had stopped and her soul had already left her body. Jemilah burst into tears and broke down. Salma remained frozen till she heard Jemilah's cry. Salma and Shrin tried to help Aunt Jemilah and tried to pacify her.

Salma rang the doorbell. She looked pale and exhausted as though she had not slept for weeks. A tall, beautiful elegant woman opened the door.

"As-salamu `alaykum, Salma," the woman said with a smile.

"Wa `alaykum as-salam, Amma," Salma replied wearily.

Anisa, Salma's mother, was in her late thirties. She found the usual warm, beautiful smile on her daughter's face was missing. She looked at Salma and was worried as Salma went and sat on the cushioned sofa to open the letter that Aisha had written to her. Anisa saw tears rolling down Salma's cheeks as she was reading the letter.

"I don't believe this," Salma cried, shaking her head. She was trying to physically and emotionally balance herself.

"What's wrong Salma?" Anisa asked.

"A… A… Ammaaa," Salma could not talk and burst into tears.

Anisa never saw her daughter crying like this before. She came and sat next to Salma. Salma tucked her head on her mother's shoulders. Anisa hugged her and patted her back gently.

"Relax, sweetie, what happened? I have never seen you crying like this before," said Anisa.

Salma wiped her tears from her cheeks and eyes. Her long beautiful eyelashes were still wet with tears. Salma gathered her energy to talk to her mother.

"Amma," said Anisa, "Do you remember Aisha?"

Ansia said, "Isn't she the one who was always calling you and inviting you to her place,"

"Yes, Amma, she is the one," replied Salma.

"What about her?" Anisa asked.

"Amma, it's Aisha," as Salma struggled to say what she could not accept.

"What about her?" Anisa asked.

"She died this morning," Salma buried her face in her hands and cried.

"To Allah we belong and to Allah we will return," said Amma, "What happened, was she unwell?"

Salma said, "She had an accident. A truck ran her down and she was admitted to the hospital. The doctor said there was nothing to worry about and we thought she would be fine. She suddenly started to bleed terribly, and then she died. I feel guilty, Amma."

Anisa hugged her daughter and said, "Sweetie, everybody has an appointed time and it was time for her soul to leave this temporary abode. Why do you feel guilty? This is all Allah's will, nothing can stop anybody's death."

"I know Amma, but I am guilty because I was a horrible friend," Salma cried.

waterfall

Baffled by these words, Anisa looked at Salma. Salma continued with her eyes filled with tears, "Every time she called me, I was annoyed and found her boring. I felt she was unpopular. She did not have the same interests I had … no music, no movies, no fashion. I kept on ignoring her. She told me she yearned to have a friend like me and she wanted me to be her friend."

Anisa was listening to her daughter, patiently nodding her head. Salma looked up at her mother and continued confessing her attitude and behavior towards her friend while she was still alive.

"She was a great friend. She always tried to give me gifts and tried inviting me home so many times. But I kept ignoring all of this and secretly wished she would leave me alone. I spoke ill of her when I was with my other friends. The last time she called me was yesterday and she asked me if I could visit her. I became agitated, but Shrin insisted that we visit her because she was sick."

"Al-hamdu lillah, she never knew. She really thought you were a good friend. At least you gave her that happiness," Anisa said thoughtfully.

Salma paused and stammered to get the words out, " W… w … when I … I … I … read the letter she gave me, I feel horrible after reading her words, 'Good friends are precious! Thank you for being my friend.'"

Salma continued, "The only people around her when she died were me, Shrin, and her aunt. She is an orphan, so her aunt was the only relative nearby when she died. Her face was so beautiful after her soul left her body," Salma was breathless as she spoke.

She paused and continued, "Do you know, Amma, what she wrote in that letter?"

Anisa asked, "What did she write?" She sounded eager to know, thinking it might be the content that was upsetting her daughter.

"The letter said I was her best friend. She was an orphan. She mentioned that she yearned to have a best friend, but she never had any until she met me," Salma buried her face in her hands and started to cry.

Ansia poured some water into a glass and gave it to her daughter to drink. Afterwards, Salma continued, "The truth is, I never treated her like my friend. Friends are supposed to care for each other, but I didn't and instead I spoke ill of her behind her back. I was never proud to have her around me, but to be honest, she was the best friend I ever had. She never expected anything from me. And although she was needy, she was always smiling and helpful and she never hesitated to correct me when I was wrong, but I used to hate that and I always snubbed her. She always praised me if I did a good job at work."

"Amma, I have lost a wonderful opportunity of taking her as a friend and treating her as my best friend," said Salma.

"No, now you have got a friend," Anisa said smiling at her daughter.

"How can you say that, Amma?" Salma said earnestly.

"Aisha made you realize your faults after her soul left this world. Now every time you do something, you will remember Aisha and her words of advice, won't you?" Anisa asked.

Salma nodded.

"Her words are living in your heart and those words are your friend! Salma, a friend is someone who would make us almost invincible, but helps us with his or her counsel when we face a problem," added Anisa.

Salma nodded, "Yes, Amma, you are right, I have discovered my true friend!"