A Lesson from Haiti's Fading Memory

Written by By Sarah Salam, Muslim Link Columnist

Saturday, 06 March 2010 03:40

For my nineteenth birthday, a close friend of mine purchased an elegant white watch for me. The rectangular face of the clock was trimmed with gold, and circular diamonds sparkled underneath the glass. I love (and always am in need of!) watches, so this could not have been a more appropriate gift.

The other day, though, I could not find my watch anywhere. I searched for days, in bags, jacket pockets, cars, and drawers. It broke my heart to think I had lost the watch – especially one given by a close friend. I am sure we can all relate to this guilt-laden feeling, whether it be a family necklace, a credit card, or even a pen, losing something can be both frustrating and distressing.

How, then, does losing one item relate to losing a home? At 4:53 PM on January 12, 2010, homes would be one of the many possessions families on the tiny island nation of Haiti would lose. A home is more than a building with four walls. Memories drape the walls of each room in a home. A baby’s first walk, a couple’s first fight, a teenager’s first (albeit frightening) driving lesson, grandparents’ visits, a house robbery, a special birthday dinner, all are but a few of the many memories a family experiences together in a home. Our most prized possessions, from our passports to our old photo albums also lie safeguarded in our homes. How can losing one or two items a month compare to the loss of an entire home?

And what is the loss of something as grand as a home to the loss of loved one? Words need not compare.

The tragedy in Haiti is still overwhelming. More than a month ago, one was constantly bombarded with reports of escalating deaths and graphic images of suffering for those who survived. As expected, the media’s limelight has since swiveled to the next important story, even though the struggle in Haiti continues.

Still, as hard as it may seem, one must also not forget that Allah Subhanahu wa ta'la does not burden us more than we can bear. As He said in Surah 94, Al Inshirah, verses five and six “Verily, with every difficulty comes relief.” Insha’Allah, as the people of Haiti have done in their brutal history before, they will survive even today and grow stronger because of it.

Earlier in the year, I mentioned the term “bff” or “best friends for ever,” to an older, science-minded person. He immediately responded with “Well, nothing is forever.” I wanted to contend such a fierce statement, but after some thought, I began to agree with him. True, Allah Subhanahu wa ta'ala is forever, but what from this world is forever? Food expires, clothing styles change, memories blanch, and even a mother’s love may fade. The earthquake in Haiti is but another reminder, that, indeed, nothing, neither homes nor lives, is forever. After all, to Allah we belong, and to Him we return.