Rochdi

He barely walked…the cane had become of no more significant help. Yet, however tiresome the way to the Masjid was, the poor old man had never renounced. He had never missed a Sala’at, no never; even when he was struck with that “bad fever”: when they thought that it was time for his soul to quit her “ephemeral cover”. He stood up, took his cane and went out. “Father, please! Do your Sala’at here, at home! You can’t always go to the Masjid, your health doesn’t…” His son couldn’t finish his sen...