To me, he represented the unadulterated spirit of Islam, cleared of sectarianism and biting cynicism.

Eight months ago, an Indiana Guardsman in Afghanistan befriended a sick baby. After several visits to army doctors, he learned that the baby suffered from a heart condition that would soon end his life. The Guardsman quickly contacted his wife, who gathered individual donations and arranged for the boy to be brought to Indiana and undergo surgery paid for by the Indiana Rotary Club?s Gift of Life program and regular doctors who volunteered their time. The baby, his father, and their interpreter stayed in Indianapolis with Jim and Roberta Graham, whose son was stationed at Fort Phoenix in Afghanistan.

On March 8, after a long and grueling journey, Hakim Wardak carried his 16-month old son, Qudrat Ullah, to surgery at Riley Hospital for Children. As Hakim, who came from a refugee camp and knew absolutely no English, nervously waited, doctors reversed blood vessels in his son?s heart and moved them to their proper place. Hours later, the doctors emerged triumphant, expecting that once healed, with the help of donated vaccines, the boy would live a healthy life.

Qudrat and Hakim stayed in Indiana for two months, during which time they became Hoosier superstars. They were our personalized Afghani Ambassadors. To Hoosiers at large, they created a connection to a misunderstood and exotic sounding region, and to a complicated battle that has us feeling utterly helpless.

For years, we have watched events unfold in Afghanistan from an insurmountable distance. Many Hoosiers, like most Americans, had previously known little, if anything, about the country, its people, or their religion. Their first introduction to it centered around violence. They have stood helplessly (and in some cases futilely protested) as son, daughter, wife, husband, and parents have been shipped off to this mysterious sounding nether world. They have felt confused, removed, and impotent. Their only solace, whatever their political beliefs, has been to support the soldiers in whatever little way possible. But supporting the troops, of course, is only one side of the coin. Most Americans had yet to find a way to support the Afghans themselves.

So when little Qudrat Ullah appeared on the scene, Hoosiers of all backgrounds finally felt a sense of empowerment. There was a heightened feeling that they could cross nationalistic boundaries and reach out to fellow brothers and sisters across the world, despite the turmoil that has separated our countries and, by extension, compartmentalized and misrepresented our beliefs. Hoosiers began to form a personal connection with two individuals who were previously part of a collective, unknown 'Other.'

For months, Hoosiers followed the story of baby Qudrat, reading about him in the papers and watching him on the news, discussing his story in churches and synagogues, council meetings and school buildings. For some, this sense of connection to him and his family was the first of its type that involved no war, no politics, and no comparisons. Even those who previously had little interest in Afghan affairs came under Qudrat?s spell, thus becoming more curious about his background. During a presentation on Muslim Americans that I gave at my grandmother?s church, an elderly lady raised her hand and said, ?I?ve been keeping up about this little Qudrat fellow. I don?t normally read the news, but he?s so adorable, isn?t he? And I found that after these presentations, I?ve understood the stories better, like how his Dad prays on his knees.? Here several older ladies broke in and exclaimed, ?Oh yes, I saw that, too!? They then said, ?We pray for them. His father seems so very nice, and his mother must be so worried.? Thousands of Hoosiers were directly affected by the fragile heart of this angelic little boy.

To me, though, Qudrat represented something a little different. To me, he represented the unadulterated spirit of Islam, cleared of sectarianism and biting cynicism. He so clearly reflected the nur of his Creator. Qudrat came here as a Muslim untainted by all the shackles that can darken our hearts. I saw him as the purified core that lives in each of us, that has perhaps been veiled by fear and pain. He refreshed my life with the type of spiritual understanding that cannot be spread by legalistic rulings or intellectual debates, but rather only when an inner yearning for purity beholds a clear manifestation of Allah subhanahu wa ta'ala. Qudrat not only educated all of us supposedly wiser adults about the openness with which we should meet all people, but ingrained the fact that all humans were formed from the same soul, and therefore share a substance that transcends religious creeds and cultural identities. Throughout history, man has woven a sticky web of sectarianism, elitism, nationalism, judgment, hypocrisy, and emptied legalism that constantly threatens to subvert the reflection of ar-Raheem's Divine Nur that is latent in each of us, Muslim and non-Muslim alike.

Or perhaps it was just tragically refreshing to see my neighbors show such impartial love and acceptance to deserving Muslims.

After staying for an extra month due to a chicken pox scare, making rounds and befriending lifelong devotees, Qudrat and Hakim were escorted back to their village by eight Indianapolis Star reporters. By the time of the departure, the reporters were family friends. Before boarding, Lt. Gov. Becky Skillman named Qudrat, Hakim, and his interpreter as honorary Hoosiers. Hakim said that he was interested in immigrating to the United States, and his interpreter joked to an interested audience that ?Someday going to be probably governor of Indiana.? Hoosiers watched Qudrat's hosts and adopted American grandparents give him a tearful farewell, and we were amazed at how different the active, bright-eyed, newly robust little boy looked than when he first arrived in his father's arms, abnormally small and vulnerable. Yet even then, his entrancing smile immediately subjected every onlooker to a rank of servitude.

During the flight, American Airlines Attendant Karen Surber gave a history of the baby?s journey over the public address system, and the plane erupted in applause.

Qudrat returned to his mother, Tashbara, and up to 140 Afghan families at the Polycharki Refugee Camp who cheered and showered metallic confetti upon Qudrat and his entourage. Qudrat had gained six pounds. He was happy and alert, with a strong prognosis for life. His mother had hung dozens of pictures of her baby?s journey on her home?s mud wall and shared her thanks with everyone.

Two days later, while laying on the earthen floor of his parents? tent, Qudrat?s heart began to race, and he passed away.

Qudrat's journey came to an unexpected end. No one knows what went wrong and we likely never will. All we know is that, for reasons beyond our understanding, Allah ta'ala chose to bring this blessed soul closer to Him. Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhir raji-oon.
Even though our friend has left, our love for him endures. Upon finding out about his death, reporters had to take an unprecedented break in their briefing as men and women alike began to shed tears. The newspaper filled with pictures of Sergeants and Guardsmen breaking down in Afghanistan, reeling with the loss. An Indianapolis Star article titled, ?U.S. Soldiers Aim to Make Peace With Their Grief? reported about the death that was straining overseas troops and bringing ?even the toughest-looking soldiers to tears.? Soldiers overseas lighted candles and held vigils. At a memorial held inside the chapel at Camp Phoenix, Army Lt. Col. Hall explained that why Qudrat died is not the most important question, but that ?The bigger question is: What is the meaning of his life? His short life made a difference that is way out of proportion to his size and the length of his days. Let us be thankful for a little boy with a big smile who inspired us to look beyond ourselves and to give of ourselves to make this a better world for the next generation of Qudrats.?

Hundreds of Hoosiers also packed into local Indiana churches for memorials the following Sunday.

Reporter Diana Penner wrote in the Sunday paper, ?I?ve been a working journalist for 25 years and have covered many, many sad stories. There have been times when tears have come to my eyes. But I have never felt the physical pain that seared me when I heard, in a news conference, that Qudrat was dead. Nor have I witnessed journalists break down, sobbing, halting a news conference in its tracks.

I was one of them.
The tears still come. And, I expect, they will, now and then, for the rest of my life.
Because, like so many other people, I loved Qudrat.?

I pray that Allah swt will surround Qudrat and his family with a storm of His Almighty, Merciful Compassion, and will fill us with the intelligence to honor and learn from the events of this short, yet powerful, life.

Footnote: Tax-deductible donations can be made to the Gift of Life fund with checks payable to District 6560 World Community Service Foundation, P.O. Box 6381, Fishers, IN 46038, with a notation of "Gift of Life" in the memo field.

For questions about the foundation and the Gift of Life fund, call Karin Blue at (317) 462-3434.

Donations for Qudrat and his family can be sent to the "Qudrat Family Fund" in care of Forum Credit Union, 11580 USA Parkway, Fishers, IN 46038, Attention: Monte Thacker or Andrew Spirrison.

It is likely that coverage of this story will allow the Rotary Club to address needed surgeries in Jordan, Egypt, and Iraq.