The grand clothes shop was filled with people shopping for Eid. By the looks of it, everyone was from a wealthy household, looking around for dresses that defined the word “perfect” for them.

Kids accompanied their parents, most of them with smug looks on their faces, for getting the items they wanted for this festive occasion would certainly give them a chance to show off.

However, among them stood a shy girl. She was what many would call “the odd one out”, with clothes that were clean, but patched and frayed in a number of places. Worn out shoes in her feet and a braid sticking out of the torn dupatta she was wearing around her head.

Her eyes were fixed upon the beautiful red frock in front of her, a deep longing for inside her heart. In her mind, she had already created an image of herself in it, as pretty as a princess, walking on a pathway of flowers with a crown of fresh roses on her head, red like the frock she wore, emitting a sweet scent in the air.

Upon asking, a sneering salesman told her its price, Rs7,000. This hit her like a giant boulder. The price was far more than the amount she could afford. In fact, the chance of her buying the frock was as much as of her becoming the prime minister the next day.

Slowly and sadly, she walked out of the shop to her mother, who sat on the footpath along the road, selling simple handmade caps, exhaustion and desperation dripping from the voice which hoped to attract people to it.

Sitting beside her, she began her usual job of knitting more caps, simultaneously trying to calm down the storm of distressing thoughts crashing her mind.

Why was the world so unjust? The rich drowned in the sea of their wealth, too blinded to see the poor who hardly made enough money for a proper meal each day. No one heard or paid attention to their wishes. People considered them as beggars, disregarding the day and night effort they put in to earn a few rupees. They were regarded with a single expression, an expression filled with contempt. They were not considered worthy enough for the things that were good and expensive, like the red frock in that shop.

The frock. Her heart ached with the pain of desire. She decided she would go to the shop again the next day to look at it and bask in the happiness the thought of owning it would give her.

So she went the next day, after taking a small break from her normal duty. She was once again standing with eyes glued to the pretty frock. She had no idea that next to her stood the rich shop owner’s daughter, Hafsa, who was there to select a dress for Eid and she too was looking at the red frock with admiration.

Someone pulled her braid painfully. She wheeled around to see a burly salesman eyeing her with loathing.

“Why do you keep coming here?” he spoke. “This isn’t a place for ragamuffins like you. You’d better get out this instant.”

Her eyes stung with tears as she swallowed the bitterness that formed in her throat. In that moment of grief, she couldn’t move her feet and found herself being pushed out when a loud voice reached her ears, “Stop!”

As the salesman stopped abruptly, she found a girl running towards them. She had a frown on her face and was angrily exclaiming, “Why are you doing this? Has she done any harm to you?”

“M-miss Hafsa…” stammered the salesman.

“I will inform my father about this. Is this how the employees in his shop behave with the people inside? This is unacceptable,” Hafsa said sternly.

“But only with the people who are not worthy enough to set their feet inside your respectable father’s shop,” replied the salesman defensively.

“Your actions show that it’s you who doesn’t deserve to be here. She is a human like you and me. She has the right to go anywhere in this world, but no one has the authority to push her out like you are doing,” she added. Hafsa, then turned to the girl who was looking at her with a curious yet grateful expression.

“What is your name?” she lovingly asked.

“Amna,” the girl replied in a barely audible whisper.

“Were you here to buy something?” Hafsa politely questioned again.

For Amna it seemed as though she was talking to a best friend, a sister. A sea of thoughts and questions, wishes and desires came flooding out of her heart, engulfing Hafsa. Soon after she finished speaking, tears came rolling down Hafsa’s eyes, who hugged her tightly.

“You have unveiled some of the darkest facts and secrets of life for me,” she said, her voice trembling with emotions. “There are so many others who are like you. I wish I could help them all. I am so glad I found you. I will help you in every way I can. I promise. Now tell me which dress did you want?”

Amna pointed towards the red frock. Seeing what she wanted, Hafsa pursed her lips. She had chosen that frock for herself after checking out everything else in the shop.

However, a little voice spoke inside her head, “At times you have to lose something to gain something bigger in return. Fulfil your promise. Sacrifice your wish and watch what you get in return.”

Because it was her father’s own shop, Hafsa got the frock without having to worry about paying for it and handed it over to Amna.

“Here you go. You should celebrate Eid like everyone else. Eid for you too should bring joy, and not sadness,” she said, smiling to Amna who had gone dumbfounded with delight and gratitude.

“Come with me. My father is in his car waiting as I was choosing a dress for myself. You must meet him,” Hafsa said.

As they went out, a man came out of the car parked just in front. Have you finally selected something for Eid dear?” he addressed Hafsa.

“Yes Baba,” replied Hafsa. “I have selected the pleasure of God and the peace and contentment of my heart.”

And she told everything that had happened to her father, whose eyes shone with pride.

“I feel like the luckiest father to have a daughter like you,” he said, and calling Amna towards him, put his hand on her head with kindness. “I’ll financially support you and your mother, my child.”

“People like you are angels on Earth,” Amna finally spoke. “I wish there were more like you. May God bless you and fill your life with happiness. I’ll always pray for you from the depths of my heart.”

“You don’t need to thank me, dear,” he said. “Taking care of others is a duty Allah has imposed upon us. I am just fulfilling that. But yes, I really need your prayers in return.”

It was as though a new chapter had started in Amna’s book of life, a chapter full of joy and countless blessings, with her wishes fulfilled and gratitude for Allah always in her mother’s heart.

Eid had a new meaning for Hafsa now, it was not just enjoying and celebrating but sharing and spreading happiness, not just in order to please Allah but also to be rewarded with the sight of happiness on someone else’s face.

The following Eid proved to be the best one for the two girls who enjoyed a lot together. Hafsa looked stunning in a beautiful white kurta and Amna was like a princess in her lovely red frock.

Published in Dawn, Young World, May 1st, 2021