back in bloomington i used to have this friend. let's call her a. and her brother. let's call him b. both of them were really close to me. their father was my arabic teacher. we would talk about arabic grammar and for a little while speak all the arabic i knew in a matter of minutes. you know the routine. asalaamalaikum walaikum salaam kaif halik ana be kher wa anta alhumdulillah ahlan wa sahlan etc etc etc. her two younger sisters were sweethearts. i got along with them really well. sometimes i would bring them little things that i secretly wanted but thought it inappropriate at my age but would be able to enjoy it with them. we baked brownies at my apartment in attempts to have a brownie party. take 2 wasn't too bad but we had some good times. unlimited giggling. her baby brother was adorable and i could never get enough of him. i would joke around with him and say la and push him away every time he came up to me. or when everyone was getting a round of hugs and i would protest mine and say la to him so many times he grew up thinking my name was la and would run up to me just to push me away and say la when he was older. even when i called he would want to speak to la. squealing with laughter when he saw me at the door. they were a wonderful family. i would go over for dinner to their house on a weekly basis. being a poor college kid. poor by choice. deprived of family, not food or clothing. i had not much to offer them except that maybe i invited them over for dinner once as a family. and what a feast i cooked. they still talk about it. and then they relate to me the stomach pains that they had. well some things not everyone needs to know. but it's by choice that this bloogie is read. kher. these people were awesome. i would meet a on campus sometimes and we would be studying our own thing. her with her education that later changed to art appreciation stuff and me with my biology stuff. and we would take these breaks where we talked about anything and everything. and have to force ourselves to go back to studying. we even ended up taking a class together when i added the religious studies major that we would discuss non stop and go off in our tangents. when i would see b we would discuss our love for the bmw m3 and all other good things and then say no we don't like things of this world and revert to what kept us close. the love of the prophet saw. this family. this limitless ball of caring. they were incredible to me while i was at iu. but the funny thing is that it wasn't these kind gestures that this family showed me that mattered most. it wasn't the part where they accepted me in their family without a second thought. it wasn't the open and honest attitude. it was the part where they didn't expect a thing in return. not a thing. i couldn't give them anything back. when i tried, there was nothing i could think of that they didn't have already that would make me be able to repay them for the way they treated me. they knew this. it wasn't my company or my thoughts that kept them inviting me back. i don't know what it was. but it's in all of us. even with all the bad that i hear about. fortunately not have experienced anything that shattering. that happens to us directly or even indirectly. that shouldn't happen to anyone. that is just inhuman to say the least. even with that, there is the good. alhumdulillah for my memory to be selective. alhumdulillah i forget the bad easily. alhumdulillah i remember the good even more easily. there is this thing in all of us. that need to give. when i'm old and. i mean when i'm older. i will inshAllah do the same. the reason i write about this now is that i don't want to forget it. i don't think i will. but i definitely want to make sure that when i'm able to. i will repay this. maybe not to them directly. maybe to someone else. if i'm lucky, to them as well