I recall very well that a catalyst for my interest in Islam 11-years ago happened to be the adab (good manners) of a Somali taxi driver who, incidentally, was always smiling.
Going from one false god to the next, I started to feel like the little bird looking for its mother in all the wrong animals. I was lost and broken. But, Alhamdulillah, God guided me back to Him. And because of the memory of all the pain shirk caused in my life, I remain vigilant in avoiding it.
My friend’s test was hard for her. Whenever she meets me she complains about that one matter. Whenever she sees a baby, tears would flow down from her brown eyes. She strived for different means but all meet failure. Only patience and hope remain.