Standing in line at taraweeh, the mind makes a quick mental catalogue - that girl's forearms are showing, that aunty's feet are uncovered, that lady's scarf is slipping. Ugh, don't they know it's Ramadan and their salah probably isn't valid now?
The angels on their shoulders write a detailed catalogue - that girl just gave away her entire week's salary in sadaqah secretly, that aunty's heart has been cleansed of all grudges, that lady's children have the best adab and akhlaaq out of everyone in the masjid. Their beauty is magnified in the Sight of Allah and the angels who ascend to witness their Lord's slaves in worship.
The angels on our shoulders write down an even longer list - today, you lost your temper; today, you spoke harshly to someone and drove them away from the masjid; today, your recitation of the Quran did not go deeper than your throat; today, you assumed that your 'knowledge' made you an intellectual, that it made your actions impeccable, that Allah has guaranteed the acceptance of your deeds simply because you (think you) know more about the Deen than everyone else.
Today, the person we were judging - however silently - may well enter Jannah long before we even smell its fragrance.