Hey yall! I'm planning on taking physics 350 over the summer at SCC w prof Clayton Bratton, and am wondering if lectures are mandatory for attendance or if there are recordings to watch instead??? Ik there is a lab section and thats mandatory but anyone know about lectures????
plz someone I need answers 😭😭😭🙏🙏🙏
Tyyyy 🫶🫶🫶
Just a reminder, cold emailing works. It sucks and takes super long, but at the end of the day you only need one response. Keep at it, your efforts will pay off and you will be proud!
tried it on multiple devices and its not loading...I have my pass time at 2 help
[PS: Im not a writer, so sorry for any mistakes, I just wanted y'all to see the bigger picture of things and hopefully someone can benefit]
The sky was an odd shade that day. Odd shade, but beautifull nonetheless. It was the middle of Summer, and Nisreen had gotten used to the oh so bright sky and the ever shining sun. To the hazy breeze that made everything seem blurry as heat waves surrounded her quite yet comfortable neighborhood.
A special sky for a special day, she thought. She thought this as she stared out the window at the beautiful blue sky. She could see skyscrapers reflecting the sun's light, and below it shorter buildings decked with hundreds of little square windows. There was a highway where cars were speeding past, just short of the early morning traffic that was sure to start soon. And below that were the streets. Busy streets. Cars going this way and that. Fathers heading off to work. The retired elderly inhabit their local tea shops. Mothers ushering their children to school. And amongst all of that Nisreen was here.
She smiled to herself, reminiscing on her life, each stage of her life that had inevitably brought her here. She remembered the day she was born. Not remembered, really, but the stories that people told her. How everyone adored her and were so proud and happy for her. When she moved to this country with her young parents, her new siblings. The schooling, from elementary, to high, to college. The day she got her dream job. And amongst it all, the best day of her life. The day she married her one and only. All of it surrounded by the mercy and blessings of Allah.
Speaking of blessings, Nisreen felt a smile tug at her mouth as she shifted her gaze from her window to her room. She was in a hospital bed, yet a comfortable one. One that felt like hers. Gift bags and treats and delicious aromatic home cooked meals decorated the sparse table to her right, and a curtain covered the entrance to the door. Yet more alluring than that however, was a miracle, a blessing, to her left. In a cart, a trolley, in a clear basket layered with soft blankets was the coolness of her eyes. Something, someone, she had prayed for since she came of age. Someone she prayed for without them even having existed, having no idea how that prayer would be answered, yet still firm in her faith and tawakkul on Allah. Oh how the world worked, ya Allah.
Her little angel, she’d thought of countless names for her, but now when the time had come she couldn’t pinpoint one that would serve her to what she deserved. Soft brown curls framed a round head, two little almond shaped eyes closed tight, a pointed nose with puckered and soft pink lips. Swaddled in a baby pink blanket. What should she name her? She knew she couldn’t do this alone. So once again, she shifted her gaze to the left corner of the room, and her breath caught.
How could she describe the joy and yearning that bubbled up inside of her? It had been 2 days in the hospital since Nisreen had given birth. And he stood beside her every second of it. Never looking away, never letting go of her hand. Constantly whispering acknowledgements of her strength, of how well she was doing. Reminding her of her purpose, of the reward with Allah. Promising her that he would never let go. It was only because of him, and first and foremost Allah’s blessings, that she was able to make it through the pains of childbirth. Yes, like they said, it was the worst pain she had ever felt. And yet, the most rewarding one. It was hard, but necessary, and Allah was ever appreciating and would not let her efforts go to waste. She sighed at the reminder of her merciful lord.
Her husband lay on a little cot in the corner, leaning against a pillow he propped up hastily. He was ever so alert, jumping at the smallest of sounds, eager and desperate to do all he possibly could to make this blessed moment of life easier for her and their baby. When the nurses came in, he talked with them in hushed whispers so not to wake her up. He hand fed her the meals the nurses brought in, as well as the homemade ones from dear friends and family. He soothed her baby when she cried, and whispered duas and dhikr in her ear. He read Quran to Nisreen, pausing every other ayat to reflect with her over it.
At some point, tears welled up in Nisreen’s eyes. She was just so so happy, she had waitied for this moment all her life, and it was finally here. She felt complete, whole. Nothing in this world could take it away. No amount of money or position or ego. She had found the other half of her rib, and now they have a beautiful little angel of their own.
Seeing the tears in her eyes, her husband looked up at her and gently squeezed her hand, before coming close to give her a soft kiss to her forehead.
“Hayati, Habibti, what is it? Why do you cry?” he whispered to her sincerely.
“Nafsi, Im just so grateful and thankful for this moment, I love you for the sake of Allah” I whispered back. He grinned, eyes shining bright, and he glanced at their little angel, before looking back at her.” I love you so much more Nisreen, for the sake of Allah, and I promise to love our angel and to serve both you and her for the rest of my life. I promise to do whatever is in my hands to provide and protect you two, bi ‘ithni’ Allah.”
And with that said, another day passed, then another, then a year and a decade and fast forward a good 50 years. Nisreen sat at her death bed, she had lived a good life. She had served and worshipped Allah as much as she could, tried her utmost best in raising her children in the path of Allah and equipping them with the knowledge and skills and faith to do well for themselves in this world, to serve the ummah, and their akhirah. And now she was ready to meet her lord, ever hopeful in his mercy, ever fearful of his rage. Yet she reminded herself of one statement.
On Allah’s throne, there is a message inscribed. “My mercy overpowers my anger”. And she holds on to that, as the angel of death comes to take her soul, as she mutters the last shahadah she will ever say, as she is buried and asked the 3 questions and her grave becomes a graden of jannah. As she is united with her family and loved ones in the presence of Allah, in jannah, in bliss and happiness and joy that is unimaginable, grateful that all her efforts, all of it, the reward of it has come now. Bi’ithni’Allah
-M