It was a beautiful Ramadan morning in early fall. With a pleasant breeze and the sun periodically shining radiantly through the puffy white clouds above, I hurried out the door to my meetings. Having chosen mostly black attire as a reflection of the importance of these meetings, I felt the warmth of the sun every time it peaked through the clouds as I ventured by taxi, ferry boat, and then on foot to my first destination. Fortunately, the weather was dry enough that as soon as there was a bit of shade, I found some relief the combination of the sun and the dark color of my clothes.
After about an hour-long meeting, I was off to my next appointment. To get there, I had to once again use the ferry. Being a bit later in the morning, the temperature had risen, and my black suit under the sun made me really uncomfortable by the time I boarded the ferry. Having a seat next to a window, I tried to relax and enjoy the view while waiting for departure.
The seawater with its transparent, malachite green color seemed to beckon to me as it gently splashed against the high concrete wall of the dock. The wind had picked up a bit causing the young trees and newly planted, autumn flowers in the park nearby to flutter in the wind. SubhanAllah, how nice it all looked.
As I was admiring the scenery, a young girl who must have been an eighth grader came rushing up. As if to savor every minute of a break between classes, she dropped her backpack on the ground, promptly sat herself down on the edge of the dock with her feet dangling over the waters far below, and began looking out over the strait before her. Watching her as I sat there still sweltering, my heart went out to her, and I thought, "Ya Rabbi, subhanAllah, she must want to touch those waters below so much. I know if I were in her position right now, I would." But of course, I wasn't. And within a few moments, the engine of the ferry started, and I was off to my next meeting.
Getting off the ferry on the other side of the strait, the desire to feel the coolness of the water had not yet passed, but at least, there was a nice breeze and plenty of shade as I walked to my rendezvous. Fortunately this meeting was at a restaurant, right on the water. Even though we weren't going to be eating anything, there were plenty of empty tables for any customer, like a non-Muslim tourist or something, who wanted a meal. So with only a thick glass wall and a few feet of concrete below, I was as close to the water as was reasonable while wearing a suit and heels.
As the meeting started at this open-air restaurant, the sounds of the sea, the birds, and quiet murmur of the other customers made for a pleasant atmosphere. But before long, I was wrapped up in the details of the purpose for which I had come. Still I had noticed an exceptionally large and heavily loaded, slow moving cargo ship as it was just about to pass around the far bend in the strait. Reflecting just for a moment that it would have been nice to catch sight of it while it was much closer, I went on with the business at hand.
After a few moments, a reluctant, soft-spoken waiter came over and delivered a very mild warning, "There might be waves." Seeing that we didn't quite understand, he repeated, "There might be waves."
If only he had shouted it instead, I might not have bothered to start to turn and see what he was talking about before flinching away as out of the corner of my eye I caught sight of the massive wave of light green water racing up and over the thick glass barrier. Twenty gallons of water must have made it over onto the lady sitting across me. In an instant, she and all her belongings including her cell phone were thoroughly drenched. She hadn't even made it to her feet. Because of the angle at which the wave hit, I had only been splashed. But the waiter had warned us twice, and as I stood up to try to comfort my shocked companion across the table, the even more powerful second wave towered over and poured down upon us.
Chairs were knocked over. Ashtrays, salt and peppershakers, and tea glasses broke as they were hurled off the tables by the force of the wave. All those who got soaked were stunned as they assessed the damage to their clothes and belongings.
For sure it was surprising to all of a sudden be dripping with very salty water and picking seaweed off ourselves, but I just couldn't get angry at the waiter for not warning us soon enough. On the contrary, I couldn't help but laugh, as not even an hour before I had wished for being able to touch the water. When I told my companion this, she responded, "Oooh, then this is your fault! It was because of your dua'a," and she smilingly continued, "You sooo owe me. From now on, you have to make dua'a for me!" All I could say was, "But... but, ...okay," because she could well have been right. Like the Prophet (peace be upon him) said, "Whenever a Muslim makes dua'a for his brother in his absence, an angel repeats, ‘May you have something equal to it!'" (Muslim) Furthermore Ibn ‘Abbas narrated that Rasulullah (pbuh) said:
Five supplications are accepted: The supplication of an oppressed one until he takes revenge, the supplication of a pilgrim until he returns, the supplication of a warrior in the cause of Allah until he stops, the supplication of a sick person until he recovers, and the supplication of a Muslim for his brother in his absence. Of all these, the most speedy in response is the supplication for a brother in his absence. (Baihaqi)
Obviously this implies dua'a for a sister as well, but I had never realized before just how immediately a dua'a might be fulfilled. May we all increase in our making of dua'a and be drenched figuratively and (when Allah ta'ala sees fit) literally in the sincere and beneficial dua'a that we make for one another.
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