She held my hand and whisper, “Allahuakbar.” Tears started to fill those eyes, slowly pour down her cheek. She wasn’t young enough to do a full salat gesture, just like I did few minutes before. Her wrinkles shows it. But those smile made her kindness clearly seen.
She held my hand and took her nametag. Pointed at the flag picture, the country she came from.
“Turkey,” I said. I took mine and said, “Indonesia.”
She smiled once again, held my hand tighter than before. Her right hand pointed at my chest, then straight to Ka’bah.
“Your heart belongs there,” she said slowly, almost whispering.
I can feel tears falling down my cheek. The Turkish woman swept it slowly, genuinely, pointed once again to my chest, then to hers, before started to pray in Turkish.
Her tears pour heavily just like mine. Just after she pray, I did the same thing. Pray for both of us, in Indonesian, hope Allah gives her a long live and age, also a bunch of bless.
In front of Ka’bah, we held each other tightly. Neither know who she is, nor who I am to her. Everybody are just the same in front of Allah.
In front of Ka’bah, I felt a true peacefulness and realized one thing: it’s a place where thousands human being pray for others. A place to pray for strangers.
Just like the Turkish woman did to me. Just like I did to you, all Muslims from all over the world, to come and pray for others… In front of Ka’bah.