Chowrangi

A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a ‘Glass Jelly Jar’ from its hiding place in the closet.

She poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes.

Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way to 6 blocks to Rashid’s Drug Store with the big Red Indian Chief sign above the door. She waited patiently for the Pharmacist to give her some attention but he was too busy at this moment. Tasneem twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise; Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster; No good. Finally she took a coin from her Jar and banged it on the glass counter. That did it!

“And what do you want?” the Pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. “I’m talking to my brother from Lahore whom I haven’t seen in ages,” he said without waiting for a reply to his question.

“Well, I want to buy an mmm…”

The Pharmacist stared back in the same annoyed tone.

“He’s really; really sick…. and I want to buy a miracle.”

“I beg your pardon?” said the Pharmacist.

“His name is Aslam and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save him now. So how much does a miracle cost?”

“We don’t sell miracles here, little girl. I’m sorry but I can’t help you,” the Pharmacist said, softening a little.

“Listen, I have the money to pay for it. If it isn’t enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs?”

The Pharmacist’s brother was a well dressed man from Lahore. He stooped down and asked the little girl, “What kind of a miracle does your brother need?”

“I don’t know,” Tasneem replied with her eyes welling up. “I just know he’s really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can’t pay for it, so I want to use my money.”

“How much do you have?” asked the man from Lahore.

“Ten Rupees and half. And it’s all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to.”

“Well, what a coincidence,” smiled the man. “Ten and half rupees - the exact price of a miracle for your little brothers.”

He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her hand and said: “Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let’s see if I have the miracle you need.”

That well dressed man from Lahore was Dr. Ashraf Baig, a surgeon specializing in Neuro-Surgery. The operation was completed free of charge and it wasn’t long until Aslam was home again and doing well.

Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place.

“That Surgery,” her Mom whispered. “Was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?”

Tasneem smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost … Ten and half rupees…plus the faith of a little child.

And mom also knew exactly how much a miracle cost … selfless devotion to their profession by doctors like Ashraf Baig.

Other posts by Mohammad Yusha

• Do Muslim girls want the same results? - December 1st, 2008
• Destruction of family life in the name of equality - December 1st, 2008
• Sex Craze - November 29th, 2008
• Alcohol Consumption and Export - November 26th, 2008
• Sins affecting education - November 26th, 2008
• Hole in the Soul - November 26th, 2008
• The miserable state of Pakistan - November 25th, 2008
• What is the West doing preaching love and respect for Women - II - November 7th, 2008
• What is the West doing preaching love and respect for Women? - November 6th, 2008
• A letter to the West - November 6th, 2008