My Muslims Part III

My Muslims Part III

But he wasn’t angry at all, asked what happened and went directly over to Wayne to talk.  Ah, two men would now take care of everything.  And they did.  They agreed to call the damages even and not involve the insurance companies.  They each would take care of his own car.  Lal was self-effacing and Wayne spoke very quietly.  Wayne had been able to pull the fender away from the tire with his hands and therefore was able to drive to work. Wayne decided not to wait for the police since it was getting late, so he got in his car and drove away. He had with him all the information he needed as well as my phone number which I had volunteered early on.

I believe the Barak family was very relieved all had turned out well.  Of course not so well that they didn’t have to pay a considerable amount of money to repair their car.  Lal spoke well of the people in the community and praised us for our friendliness and caring. When Jamila climbed out of the car, on the passenger side, she came around the car to me and hugged me tightly. She spoke softly, saying “Thank you so much again. I pray for you.”

At that moment, the police arrived, 2 hours after we had called.  The driver of the police car asked us what happened and we explained the accident. He asked who the driver of the SUV was and Jamila said in a small voice that it was she.  We explained that all had been worked out: we didn’t need a police report, drivers had exchanged information and agreed to call it even, and the other driver had left.  “He left?!”  he said. He thought it over for a moment and then said reluctantly, “Well, okay, if that’s the way you want it, that’s the way it’ll be.”

He took no information from us, he didn’t even look at Jamila’s driver’s license. Jamila breathed a sigh of relief and, at our urging went inside to eat something. I was glad things turned out well. This morning a tow truck took Jamila’s car away. I know she'll be a loss without her car. Maybe this afternoon I'll go over and see if she needs anything from the store.
  I know, I know now I have to finish up how I got to know the family. On Valentine’s Day I found another card in my mailbox. It was purple with a great big heart with polka dots pasted in the middle of the card. Two small red hearts flanked the big heart. Someone had written “Happy Valentines Day” across the big heart.  No mis-spellings except for the missing apostrophe. They rang the bell a bit later with a big box of Whitman’s chocolates in hand. How did they know?
I really got to know them, though, when I was invited to Malala’s celebration of completing her reading of the Quran.  Her mother said to come around 8 o’clock in the evening.  It was at that time that I had a broken ankle and my leg was encased in a big black removable boot.  When I asked if my husband was invited Malala said “Oh no, it’s just for the ladies...”

More to come...

Read Part I and Part II