Performing 'Umra At The Age Of 12

Written At The Age Of 16

The sun is nowhere to be seen, yet there is plenty of light here from the massive artificial lamps. It’s three o’clock in the morning in the Masjid Al-Haram in Mecca, Saudi Arabia. I’m barefoot, walking on the hundred acres of marble flooring. It’s hard, as marble should be, but bearable. A stadium-like atmosphere surrounds me. Birds are swooping down from all directions. The Kaaba, the massive cube-shaped building, is always to the left of me as I walk around it. I am stuck in a sea of people circumambulating.

We are like the species of penguins that constantly move in a circle to keep warm during the winter. The one difference; we are in Mecca praising God. A group of fully veiled women are behind me. It seems as though everyone is in a trance. Blank faces surround me, chanting in Arabic with no idea about what is going on around them.

On the ground I see a string of prayer beads. I look towards the outside of the ring of people and see a man struggling to retrieve the beads. Reflexively, I stop moving. I turn around and pick up the beads as random people, continuing in their paths, step on my twelve-year-old body.

Shocked, I strive to reach the outside of the circle clear of the stream. I get passed the crowd and hand the beads to the man. I merge back into the circular stream and finish the ritual.It wasn’t up until recently that I realized that I had "stepped out" of the ritual to help someone.

When I look at something, I try to apply what I know to understand it. Just because the majority of people kept on chanting and walking, doesn’t mean that what they were doing was right. But it doesn't mean what they were doing was wrong either. Who is to say?

I don’t think I stepped out of the ritual that day. I think that picking up the beads was a crucial part of my experience.