This lunchtime, father and son decided to risk walking to the village mosque across the valley for Friday prayer. Fortunately we encountered no wild beasts en route, as we had feared. The only dog, the docile creature coiled up on the doorstep of the mosque, more interested in catching forty winks than challenging unfamiliar guests.
Though we needn’t have worried about bears and boars, after all, we were nevertheless challenged by pouring rain, which came down in buckets just as we began our ascent up the road that skirts the forest. By the time we arrived, we were drenched, our clothes soaked through.
No matter. Even if our path mostly turned to a muddy river bed on our way there and back, we hope that there was blessing in each hurried step to stand in congregation in that humble place of prayer. “May God remove our sins with it,” I told our lad, as water dripped from our clothes. Certainly, rainfall has come from an exalted Lord.
Last modified: 21 September 2024
