Friends from another world

From time to time, the Interfaith Youth Core office hosts State Department Delegations from various foreign countries. These visitors are usually mid-level diplomats who are brought to the United States to learn about life in America and about initiatives focusing on social justice work, building religious pluralism, youth empowerment etc. We hosted such a delegation today with visitors from the countries of Pakistan, Sri Lanka, and Bhutan.

Unfortunately, due to various scheduling conflicts, I was not part of the staff that hosted this delegation. However, they received a tour of IFYC's office space after the discussion with some of our staff.

When they entered our fourth floor office, she made instant eye contact with me. I was on the phone with my dad, figuring out the mess that is my car at the mechanic. As I saw her approaching me, I quickly got off the phone. She was beautiful, wearing a white salwar-khamees embriodered with tiny mirrors and french knots. Her dupatta (scarf) casually framed her face, giving her the distinguished Benazir Bhutto look. Her smile was radiant, recognizing, as if we were old friends reuniting after a long absence. When she shook my hand, her grip was firm, knowing, as if she knew we were connected through some unseen bond that existed between us. For a moment I hesitated, trying to remember if we had indeed met before? Perhaps we were connected in some way through friends, relatives?

We chatted for a short while. We talked about her work in Pakistan, where she was working with several non profits that focused on youth and women. We talked about our families, she asked where I was from when I had begun the conversation in Urdu, and we continued to compare family trees. About half way through our conversation, she started to search through her purse. Every other sentence out of her mouth was: Mere paas ek cheez thi... (I had something here...) I assumed she was looking for informational material that she had brought regarding her organization, as she had just handed me her card.

After a few minutes of searching, she finally pulled out a bangle. Silver with multicolored beads woven through with wires. Baas ek choti si cheez (Just a small token), she said. I protested, I tried to give it back, I failed. I realized it was fruitless to try and return her priceless gift, so I accepted. We chatted for a bit longer, before the delegation finally left.

I've been thinking about this woman for the past few hours. Thinking about the conversation we shared, the amazing work she's engaging her community in, the way she looked at me as though we had known each other forever. And I realized... perhaps I had known her in another lifetime, when our souls obediently circumbulated around the throne of Allah. Perhaps this was one soul recognizing it's friend from another place, where our beings were surrounded in His ultimate mercy. In this recognition of souls, she gifted me with more than a beaded bangle. As the poet Khalil Gibran says:

"And there are those who give and know not pain in giving, nor do they seek joy, nor give with mindfulness of virtue;

They give as in yonder valley the myrtle breathes its fragrance into space.

Though the hands of such as these God speaks, and from behind their eyes He smiles upon the earth."