The Missing Shoes

I've decided to start the year 2022 by recounting the experiences of my second umrah (mini pilgrimage) to Mecca (Makkah) during Ramadan (fasting month) in 2015. My first umrah was with my parents eons ago. The second umrah was done alone. As I was considered 'under-age', my father had to submit a handwritten letter to the Saudi embassy, giving me the permission to travel alone. These stories that happened during my umrah serve as reminders to self as I navigate Life.

Story 1: The Missing Shoes

I shared the hotel room with a Malay woman called Aunt S. She was involved in an accident just before our trip to Saudi Arabia and had to wear an arm sling. Anyway, Aunt S and I would go the mosque together. She had been to Makkah many times. We got along fine and I regarded her like my own biological aunt.

One afternoon, Aunt S and I decided to go to the Grand Mosque in Makkah. She wanted to carry her shoes (in a bag) with her but we decided to place our shoes on the racks near the door instead. She told me to take note of the door number so that we could remember where we had placed our shoes. I just smiled. But deep in my heart, I murmured (almost haughtily), "Don't worry, I remember the door."

After we had finished our prayers, we wanted to return to the hotel. But we couldn't find our shoes. We went to all the doors at the mosque and looked at every shoe rack. I told her that I could walk barefooted to the hotel. I could also buy new shoes when I returned home. Although my shoes were the gorgeous but pricey El Naturalista brand, I told myself that shoes were mere objects that could be replaced. Aunt S said that her shoes had sentimental value, they held precious memories. She must have those shoes back, she said. We went around the entire mosque area (it was huge!) a few times. I was so tired. Suddenly, it struck me, "Is God trying to tell me something?" I remembered that I had silently said that I would remember the door. Gosh, even though Aunt S did not hear my murmurs, surely God had. He knows every little hidden thoughts in our mind and heart. Oh no! How arrogant I must have sounded! I felt so ashamed and told Aunt S, that perhaps we should make doa (prayer) facing the kaabah (the black shrouded cube/building in the centre of the mosque which is regarded as the House of God) and ask for God's forgiveness for something we had said or done that caused us to not find our shoes. I felt ashamed at my own arrogance (the statement uttered in my heart). I apologised to God for my unkind and arrogant thoughts. Truly, nothing escapes the Almighty. 

After making our prayers, we decided to try to look for the shoes one last time. And before we knew it, we found our shoes, on the same rack that we were facing before we made our doa. How could we have missed them? Anyway, Aunt S was happy to find her shoes. I felt humbled by the incident. Before I returned to Singapore, I decided to leave those shoes in Makkah. I gave my El Naturalista shoes to our mutawiff (haj guide) as a gift for his daughter.