Though she didn't speak much she did share a little about herself. She sighed when she said she had no family here except a daughter who attends university and a husband who was gravely ill at the nursing home. All her days for the last few months have been spent at his side from morning 'til night.
She wore a huge shawl that exposed only her face, her hands and her long skirt. I wore shorts and a tee shirt. Our attire symbolized our different worlds. Yet, when we parted our hug transcended words. I sensed her despair. We connected.
The next time I saw her few words were exchanged again. I felt her grief. Her husband had just died. We hugged once more.
"Is there anything I can do? I asked.
"Please, just pray for me," she replied.
And I do.
I don't know her name, but I've named her Safiya. It means: untroubled, serene, pure, best friend.