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I, my Cloak, and the Pediatrician

 

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I entered the clinic of the pediatrician, holding my child in my hands, and wearing the cloak over my head. I seemed, in my humble appearance, to the doctor as a mother that does not have any medical culture or any knowledge of the state of her child or his condition

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I entered the clinic of the pediatrician, holding my child in my hands, and wearing the cloak over my head. I seemed, in my humble appearance, to the doctor as a mother that does not have any medical culture or any knowledge of the state of her child or his condition.

 
The doctor kept giving me directions and pieces of advice that were fundamental axioms to me. They represented a small part of my medical experience, which I gained through medicating and taking care of my children in their different age stages.
 
I responded to his directions and answered his questions in a way he did not expect from a woman wearing a covering unlaced cloak, not to mention wearing it over her head as well.
 
He wondered in amazement, “Are you a teacher?
 
I replied proudly, “I am a professor at the university.
 
He asked, “Are you holding a PhD?” I said, “Yes, and I obtained it from the United States of America.” It seemed as if I have said the password that opened all the closed doors for me. The attitude of the doctor towards me has completely changed.
 
He offered me all the services that I deserve and those I do not deserve. He even offered me a sick leave.
 
As for the date for the appointment of my child, he said, “If you want it to be tomorrow, I will arrange it for you,” he added, “Ask for whatever medications you need and you do not need, they are all available in the pharmacy of the infirmary.
 
Why do people look at the woman who puts on her cloak with pride and honor over her head as if she were a retarded woman who lagged behind progress and prosperity?
 
Why is she always called “auntie” even if she is in the prime of life? On the other hand, the one who wears a lacy tight cloak is looked at as if she were the peeress of her people. She is looked at as if she holds the highest educational degrees, or, the least of it, she is called “Mademoiselle” and “Miss” even though she might have gone beyond the stage of youth by several years.
 
What a strange matter and what a bizarre time! When man sticks to his values and principles, he is seen like an ignorant and retarded human being. When man is carried away by the current, when he gives up things that were considered the fundamentals, and runs behind the innovative concepts, he is seen as if he represents progress and urbanization.
 
I wonder where the fault is. Are these new concepts influencing our values and principles?
 
Is our status and worth in society measured by our detachment from our values and principles?
 
Is it that whenever we get closer to the Western model in our status and appearance we look more sophisticated and more worthy of respect?
 
Has the appearance of a person become the basis to value him without regard to his essence, to what he has presented to his society from services and sacrifices, and to the magnitude of his knowledge and religion.
 
Are we really at the time that the noble Prophet, prayers and peace of Allah be upon him, has told about that the one who clutches on his religion is like the one who clutches to live coals?
 
I ask Allah for stability for me and my sisters who are clutching to live coals.
 
 
Prepared by the Educational Department
Source: the Family Journal
 
 

 

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