It was a beautiful Thursday afternoon in Richmond, the neighboring city of Vancouver. The sky was clear, and the breeze brought with it a touch of spring. Birds chirped lazily, and the sun cast golden rays over the small, peaceful community where Maryam now lived with Irfan and their family.
Maryam was in the kitchen preparing tea and some light snacks. The clock showed 4:15 PM. Her heart was beating a little faster than usual. It had been years since she had seen Catherine — now Kashaf. So much had changed. Their lives had taken separate, yet strangely similar, paths. Maryam smiled to herself as she thought about how fate had brought them back together.
At exactly 5:00 PM, the doorbell rang. Maryam quickly wiped her hands and came out from the kitchen, but before she could reach the door, Imran had already stepped forward to open it.
A woman stood on the front porch, dressed modestly in a cream-colored abaya and a matching hijab. She had a warm, gentle smile on her face and a small box of chocolates in her hands.
"You must be Kashaf?" Imran asked kindly.
"Yes, I am," she replied, her voice soft but confident.
"Come in, please," Imran stepped aside, allowing her to enter.
As Kashaf stepped into the house, Maryam and Ayesha stood behind Imran, both with broad smiles. Maryam couldn't hold back her emotions any longer. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms tightly around her old friend.
"Welcome, welcome, my dearest friend," Maryam said, her voice trembling slightly.
"I missed you so much," Kashaf replied, hugging her back. "You look beautiful, Maryam. Married life is shining on you."
"And you look glowing, MashAllah. I'm so happy for you," Maryam beamed.
Ayesha also came forward and hugged Kashaf. "Welcome to our home, dear. We've heard a lot about you."
"Thank you so much, Bhabhi. It's an honor to be here."
Everyone moved into the living room. The aroma of freshly brewed tea filled the space. Maryam quickly brought the tray and set it on the table, along with biscuits and homemade pastries. They all sat down, sipping tea, laughing, and catching up.
Kashaf and Maryam began to reminisce about their days at Saint Michael Religious Academy, where they had once studied theology and served as aides in community work.
"Remember the day we helped that old lady from the shelter move her things?" Kashaf laughed. "You twisted your ankle on the stairs, and I had to carry half the boxes alone."
Maryam chuckled. "Yes! And you kept complaining the whole time!"
"But we did it. And Sister Agnes treated us with her famous apple pie that evening," Kashaf added.
"Oh yes," Maryam's eyes softened. "Sister Agnes… she meant so much to me."
Kashaf placed a hand over Maryam's. "She meant a lot to both of us."
They continued sharing memories — the long exam nights, the library sessions, their confessions whispered in the pews of the church, and their dreams — dreams that had now transformed into something far more real and spiritual.
After some time, Kashaf turned to Maryam and said, "Can I see your room?"
Maryam smiled. "Of course, come with me."
The two friends walked upstairs to Maryam and Irfan's bedroom. It was simply yet beautifully decorated — soft pastel colors, Islamic calligraphy on the walls, a neatly arranged bookshelf, and a small prayer corner with a prayer mat and Qur'an.
"This is beautiful, Maryam," Kashaf said, sitting on the bed.
"Thank you," Maryam joined her. "So tell me, how did your family react when you embraced Islam?"
Kashaf took a deep breath and looked out the window for a moment. "Do you remember the day of our convocation?"
"Yes, how could I forget that day?" Maryam said, her voice suddenly serious.
"My parents were there, but distant. They were upset that I wanted to stay at the academy for further service. I kept insisting, but they didn't listen. They left me there, Maryam, just like that."
Maryam's expression turned soft with empathy.
Kashaf continued, "A month after you left… something began to stir inside me. I couldn't shake off your last words on that podium. I kept going back to Sister Agnes' room, reading her old notes, her marked pages in the Qur'an… the books she'd hidden. Slowly, the truth started to shine."
"You found the light, didn't you?" Maryam whispered.
"Yes," Kashaf smiled. "I took Shahada silently one night in the chapel. I didn't tell anyone. I started offering Salah in secret. A few weeks later, I couldn't bear it anymore. I packed my things, left the church, and never looked back. I moved to Richmond and started working in a counseling center for youth."
Tears welled up in Maryam's eyes. "I'm so proud of you."
"Your courage gave me the strength, Maryam," Kashaf said. "When you revealed yourself at the convocation… it was the bravest thing I had ever seen. You stood there, in front of everyone, and said your truth. I wasn't strong enough then… but you planted the seed."
Maryam squeezed her friend's hand. "We found Allah, Kashaf. And He found us."
They sat there for a while in silence, absorbing the peace that filled the room.
"Do you miss your parents?" Maryam finally asked.
"I do. But I pray for them. I pray that one day they understand and forgive me. I had to choose what was right for me."
"I understand. I went through the same. And look at us now — guided, strong, and happy."
Suddenly, they heard a knock on the door. It was Ayesha.
"Girls, I hate to disturb your sacred catch-up, but dinner is ready."
Kashaf laughed. "Coming, Bhabhi!"
They went downstairs and joined the family for dinner. The dining table was full of warmth, love, and traditional Pakistani food. Everyone welcomed Kashaf like she was part of the family.
As they finished dinner, Irfan turned to Kashaf, "Maryam told me a lot about you. I'm really glad you're here. She's been through a lot, and having a friend like you around again means a lot to her — and to us."
"Thank you, Irfan bhai," Kashaf replied with genuine gratitude. "It's a blessing to be with you all."
Before she left that night, Maryam gave Kashaf a beautiful scarf as a gift — a soft blue silk with delicate embroidery.
"This is for you," Maryam said. "A gift for the new beginning."
Kashaf took it with tearful eyes. "You're more than a friend, Maryam. You're my sister in faith and soul."
As she stepped out into the cool night, they hugged one more time.
"I'll visit again soon," Kashaf promised.
"And I'll be waiting," Maryam smiled.
That night, as Maryam lay in bed beside Irfan, she whispered, "Allah reunites hearts in the most beautiful ways."
Irfan turned and kissed her forehead. "Alhamdulillah for everything."
And in that peaceful home in Richmond, two souls found healing, reunion, and the continuation of a journey — not just of friendship, but of faith.
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