A Test of Strength
Scene 1: The Relentless Fever
It had been three days since the start of Ramadan, and Maryam had embraced fasting with deep devotion. But today, as the afternoon sun blazed in the sky, her body felt different—weak, hot, and aching.
She wiped the sweat off her forehead as she sat in the corner of her classroom at Salman Farsi Primary School. Her head felt heavy, and her vision blurred for a moment. She tried to concentrate on her students, but even their soft murmurs felt distant.
"Miss Maryam?" One of the little girls, Aisha, looked up at her with concern. "Are you okay?"
Maryam forced a smile. "Yes, Aisha. I'm fine."
But she wasn't. The fever that had started as a mild discomfort in the morning had now intensified, making every movement feel like a burden.
At the end of the school day, Maryam walked home with slow, dragging steps. When she entered the house, she saw Ayesha preparing Iftar in the kitchen.
Ayesha turned around and immediately noticed Maryam's pale face.
"Maryam! You look terrible. Are you feeling sick?"
Maryam nodded weakly. "Just a little fever. But I'm okay, Ayesha. I can manage."
Ayesha walked up to her and placed the back of her hand against Maryam's forehead. Her eyes widened in alarm.
"You're burning up, Maryam! This is not just a little fever. You need rest. Please, break your fast and take some medicine."
Maryam shook her head stubbornly. "No, Ayesha. I don't want to break my fast. It's Ramadan. I can bear it."
Ayesha sighed, knowing how determined Maryam could be. "Alright, but at least let me help you to your room."
Maryam nodded, and Ayesha guided her toward the guest room.
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Scene 2: The Collapse
Ayesha had just gone back to the kitchen when she heard a loud thud. Her heart raced in panic as she rushed toward the hallway.
She gasped. Maryam was lying unconscious on the floor.
"Ayesha, what happened?" Ubaid's voice came from behind as he rushed toward them.
"It's Maryam! She collapsed!" Ayesha knelt beside her, gently patting her cheeks. "Maryam, wake up!"
Ubaid bent down and carefully lifted Maryam's frail body with Ayesha's help. Together, they carried her to the bed and laid her down.
Ayesha quickly grabbed a cold wet cloth and placed it on Maryam's forehead.
After a few long minutes, Maryam's eyes slowly fluttered open.
"Ayesha…" she murmured weakly.
Ayesha let out a sigh of relief. "Alhamdulillah, you're awake. Maryam, please listen to me this time—break your fast. You're too weak."
Maryam hesitated, looking at Ayesha with tired eyes. "But… it's Ramadan… I don't want to miss a fast."
Ubaid, who had been watching silently, finally spoke up. "Maryam, Islam doesn't want you to harm yourself. Allah has given clear guidance—when a person is sick, they are excused from fasting. You can make up for it later when you're well."
Maryam stared at the ceiling, tears welling up in her eyes. She had been so excited for Ramadan, so eager to prove her devotion. But now, her body was failing her.
Seeing her distress, Ayesha gently held her hand. "Maryam, fasting is an act of worship, but so is taking care of your health. Trust me, Allah understands your intention. Please, break your fast."
Maryam closed her eyes for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright… I'll do it."
Ayesha immediately brought a glass of water and a date. "Bismillah, Maryam. Have this."
With trembling hands, Maryam took the date and placed it in her mouth. As soon as she swallowed, a wave of relief washed over her. Then, she took a few sips of water, feeling her parched throat soothe instantly.
Ayesha smiled softly. "Good. Now, let me bring you some food and medicine."
Maryam whispered, "JazakAllah khair, Ayesha… for always looking out for me."
Ayesha squeezed her hand. "That's what family is for, Maryam."
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Scene 3: Recovery and Reflection
After taking her medicine and eating a small meal, Maryam drifted into a deep sleep.
She woke up just before Iftar, feeling a little better but still weak. From the other room, she could hear the happy chatter of Ayesha's kids and the clinking of dishes.
Lying there, she thought about the lesson she had learned today.
"Faith is not about pushing ourselves to the breaking point," she whispered to herself. "It's about trusting in Allah's mercy and following His guidance."
Ayesha entered the room with a tray in her hands. "You're awake! How are you feeling now?"
Maryam sat up slowly, leaning against the pillow. "Better, Alhamdulillah. Still a little weak, but better."
Ayesha placed the tray in front of her. "Here, have some soup. It'll help you regain your strength."
Maryam took a small sip, feeling its warmth spread through her body. "Ayesha… I've realized something today."
Ayesha raised an eyebrow. "Oh? And what's that?"
Maryam smiled faintly. "That sometimes, we think we're proving our devotion by enduring hardship. But true devotion is also about accepting ease when Allah allows it. I was being stubborn, but you and Ubaid reminded me of the mercy in our faith."
Ayesha's eyes softened. "Maryam, that's a beautiful realization. Islam is not about hardship. It's about balance and wisdom."
Maryam nodded, taking another sip of soup. "I will make up for my fast when I'm better. But for now, I'll focus on recovering."
Ayesha grinned. "That's the spirit!"
As the Maghrib Adhan echoed in the distance, Maryam folded her hands in silent gratitude. She had been tested today, but she had also learned something invaluable: faith is not about suffering—it's about understanding Allah's mercy.
And with that thought, she took a date from Ayesha's tray and broke her Iftar with a heart full of peace.
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