The Garden of My Imaan (8 page)

Sniffles

M
om came into my room very, very early the first day of Ramadan. “Wake up,” she said in a cheery voice. “It’s your first suhur.”

“What time is it?” My head felt heavy and the light hurt my eyes.

“It’s almost 4:15. You can eat your suhur and catch a few more winks later if you like. Amma’s waiting downstairs with a nice big early breakfast. Hurry up and do your ablutions.”

“Mom, I don’t feel good.” I sneezed. “I don’t think I can do it today. I’ll fast tomorrow.”

“You’re the one who was clamoring to start right away. You made such a commotion about it the other day!”

“I’m just not used to waking up this early. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“Aliya!”

“I mean it, Mom. I’ll fast tomorrow, I promise. Please let me go back to sleep?”

The bus slowed for Carly’s stop and I bit into the breakfast bar Amma had thrust into my hand as I left. After Mom granted her permission, I had pulled the warm covers over my head and closed my eyes. I’d slept right through my alarm.

I missed suhur, I overslept, and now I was munching on a breakfast bar. Ramadan wasn’t off to a great start.

“Aren’t you supposed to be fasting?” Winnie asked.

“I didn’t make it. I’ll do it tomorrow.”

“Oh.” She sounded disappointed.

“I’ve got a really bad cold, okay? And when a person’s sick, they’re excused from fasting.” I sneezed into a tissue. “But I’m fasting just as soon as I shake this off.”

Carly sat down across the aisle from us. “I’ve got the best news!” she chirped. “Wait till you hear what it is!”

I looked out the window and acted as though I didn’t hear her.

“It turns out Ellen can’t come to my party!” she went on.

Whoop-de-doo. I still wasn’t ready to pretend that everything was okay.

“So you can come after all! That’s what I’m trying to tell you.”

I whirled around to face her. “First you didn’t want me to come, but now suddenly you do?”

“Please, pretty please? Say, yes? You
are
my friend. I swear.”

“I don’t know …”

“I really, really, really want you to come. We’re going to Le Tropez for manicures. Then we’ll get pizza. It’ll be a lot of fun.”

“I’ll check with Mom,” I said. “It’s Ramadan, but she
might
let me come.” It wasn’t exactly a great feeling to be an afterthought, but maybe it was better than not being invited at all.

We were talking near the picnic benches when Marwa approached. “Can I join you?” she asked.

No one spoke for a few seconds, and then Winnie said, “Sure.”

“I’m Marwa,” she said, stepping into our circle.

“We know,” Carly said. “Everyone told us about you.”

“And we’ve seen you around,” Leah added.

“You’re kind of hard to miss,” I said.

Marwa looked at me and then away.

“Do you like it here so far?” Madison asked.

“It’s okay,” Marwa said. “It’s pretty much the same as in Detroit.”

“You weren’t at lunch today.” I traced a large figure eight in the dirt with my shoe, avoiding her eyes.

“You ate lunch?” She looked surprised.

“Sure.” I knew why she was asking, but I didn’t want to admit it. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“It’s just that it’s Ramadan,” she said softly.

“So why aren’t you fasting?” Winnie asked me.

“I told you why,” I said under my breath.

“No, you didn’t,” Winnie insisted. “You just said you weren’t. You didn’t say why.”

“Hello?” I snapped. “The cold?”

“Anyway, I just came over to wish Aliya
Ramadan Mubrook
,” Marwa said.

“What’s that?” Madison asked.

“It means Happy Ramadan,” I said. “That’s what Muslims wish each other.”

“Happy? When you’re not eating all day?” Leah said. “That’s weird.”

“You say Happy Ramadan because it’s a happy time,” Marwa explained.

“I suppose you’re fasting?” I asked, but I knew the answer already.

Marwa nodded.
“Al humdu lillah,”
she said fervently. “Praise be to Allah. I’ve tried to do my best since I was ten.”

As soon as I got home from school, I went straight for my notebook, like a moth to a light bulb. There were brand new feelings inside me clamoring to come out. I didn’t care if writing them down was exactly right or wrong. And I didn’t care that I might be crying in a hole either. Writing to Allah just made me feel better somehow.

When the first fast ended at sundown, Amma had her iftar alone. Mom and Baba were still at work, Badi Amma was too old to fast, and I had chickened out. Amma bit into a plump California Medjool date and then she drank a glass of milk.

“That felt good!” She gave me a satisfied smile. “Eating a small amount at first helps prepare the stomach for a bigger meal after evening prayers.”

I asked her about the visit to the spa on Saturday.

“Why would it be a problem?” she asked.

“I don’t know … I just thought …”

“It sounds like a lot of fun. Do you think Carly would mind if I came too?” She winked at me and started clearing the iftar table.

“I’m sorry, Amma,” I said.

Amma set the dishes back down. “Sorry for what, Meri Jaan?”

“For being a big chicken today.”

“Is that what you were?” She sat next to me. “I thought you were sick with a nasty cold.”

“Well, it was really hard to wake up at four in the morning,” I admitted. “But I’ve been thinking about it all day and I am definitely fasting tomorrow.”

“Looks like you’ve done some talking to yourself, hmm?”

“Sort of.”

“And you’ve made some decisions? Some good ones?”

“I think so.”

“
Shabaash
! Well done! You are moving in the right direction, Meri Jaan,” Amma said. “And if these aren’t baby steps to success, I don’t know what is.”

“So I’m off the hook with Allah?”

“You were never on the hook with anyone,” my grandmother told me. “Especially not Allah.”

First / Second Fast

T
he next morning, I was up and out of bed as soon as I felt Mom’s hand on my shoulder. I ran to the bathroom to make my ablutions.

I washed my hands, the right one first, then the left, rinsed my mouth and nose, and splashed water on my face. Next, I washed my arms to the elbows, passed a wet hand over my hair, a wet finger in my ear, inside and out, and finished up with my feet, first the right one and then the left.

Amma was waiting with a big breakfast. She made me eat a whole roti with delicious egg curry so I’d be well fortified for the day ahead. After suhur, I laid my prayer rug down facing in the direction of the holy
Kaaba
. I raised both my hands to my ears and began. “Allahu Akbar …”

Before I left for school, Amma assured me that I should go ahead and break my fast if I felt light-headed.

“Are you sure I’m allowed?” I asked.

“Ramadan isn’t a punishment,” Amma reminded me. “Only a challenge to be met, Meri Jaan.”

“I am going to meet the challenge.” I tried to sound confident, but it was comforting to know that there was a way out.

My mind was on a silvery crescent moon as I walked to the bus stop. The air was chilly and my fingers were numb. My early breakfast was now a distant memory. Amma always said people feel the cold the most when they are the hungriest—and I was freezing!

“Darn!” I muttered. I fumbled in my pockets for my mittens, but I couldn’t find them.

“You said darn,” Zayd piped up. “You’re not supposed to use swear words when you’re fasting!”

“Darn is not a swear word, idiot!”

“You said idiot! You’re not supposed to say that either!” Zayd dangled his lunch box in my face. “Amma packed me Doritos.”

I pushed the lunch box away.

“Now you’re getting mad,” he sang. “You’re not supposed to get mad when you’re fasting.”

I was ready to punch him, but just then Winnie came running with Adam in tow.

“Save me from this pest!” I moaned.

“You said pest!” growled Zayd.

Winnie set her backpack down beside mine. “Tch tch!” She wagged a finger at Zayd in mock anger before turning to me. “Why did I just do that?”

“He’s being his usual obnoxious little self,” I explained.

With Adam to keep him company, Zayd’s attention got diverted and he left me alone. Thankfully I turned back to Winnie.

“I’m fasting,” I announced, hoping it didn’t sound too much like bragging.

“Cool! I’m impressed,” she said, popping her gum. “Hey, can you chew gum while you’re fasting?”

I shook my head.

“Weird!”

“It’s not that weird,” I said. “Amma says it’s all a matter of self-discipline.”

“I guess it’s like staying away from cookies and chips when you’re supposed to be dieting.”

“Where’s the stupid bus?” Zayd shouted. “I’m cold!”

“Yeah,” Adam yelled.

“Quit it!” I snapped. “It’ll be here when it gets here. Sheesh!”

“She said sheesh,” Zayd told Adam. “She’s not supposed to talk like that when she’s fasting.”

It was pointless to argue, so I turned away from him. The nip in the air made my nose cold and like my brother, I longed for the warmth of the bus. I searched the sky for the Ramadan moon no longer there.

“A moon with a happy mouth,” I said, half to myself.

“Huh?” Winnie squinted skyward. “What? Where?”

“It was in the sky last night,” I said. “It signaled the start of Ramadan, sort of with a smile.”

“Weird,” Winnie said and popped her gum. She blew on her hands and stamped her feet.

“Brr! Where
is
the bus? It’s sure taking its—”

“Hey, everybody! I can see it. It’s coming!” shouted Zayd.

By snack time I was starving. Winnie ripped open a bag of chips and a tangy smell rushed out. Immediately, my mouth watered. Fasting was going to be a lot harder at school, surrounded by everyone’s food.

“These are great! Want one?” she offered.

“No thanks. I’m fasting, remember?”

“Oops, sorry! I forgot!”

“It’s okay … no big deal.” I couldn’t look away. I watched as she finished the whole bag and licked red crumbs from her fingertips.

Mrs. Doyle said I could go back to the classroom and use the computer during lunch. I tried to keep my mind on a game about the water cycle, but I kept letting the little water droplets get eaten up by ravenous creatures. Gobble, gobble. The game wasn’t helping at all. Hot and crisp French fries, pizza, and fudge brownies popped into my mind with every gobble.

In spite of the chilly weather, I decided to go outside for the rest of the lunch period. When I passed the empty cafeteria, the lingering smells of lunch drifted out the door. I
inhaled deeply, and pressed down on my stomach to kill the growling.

The cold air made me catch my breath. I saw Marwa at the picnic bench with Maggie and Sarah. Her hijab was fastened neatly and securely and I supposed her ears were a lot warmer than mine right now.

They saw me and waved. I went over.

“Winnie said you’re fasting today,” Marwa said.

I nodded. “I stayed in the classroom during lunch.”

“Me too. I did some work for Mr. Gallagher.”

“How are you holding up so far?” I asked.

“Fine,” she answered. “Al humdu lillah. And you?”

“Great, just great. It’s a breeze.”

“I don’t know how you two can do it,” Maggie said. “I could never go without food and water for a whole day.”

“Me neither,” added Sarah.

“Marwa invited us to her house for”—Maggie turned to Marwa—”what’s it called again?”

Marwa smiled. “Iftar. It’s the breaking of the fast.”

“Are you going then?” I asked.

Maggie shook her head. “I can’t.”

“I’m not 100 percent sure yet,” Sarah said.

I pulled my hood up. “I’m freezing. I better keep walking to warm up.” I told them goodbye and headed toward the other side of the playground, where Winnie, Madison, Leah, and Carly stood.

“It’s about time,” Winnie announced. “Where’ve you been? You’ve been gone for ages.”

“I was at the computer while you were eating, and then I stopped to talk to Marwa.”

“You’re getting pretty cozy with her, aren’t you?” Carly asked.

“I was just being nice.”

“You didn’t give me an answer,” Carly said.

“I did too,” I said. “I told you I was just talking with her.”

“I mean about my party. You didn’t tell me if you are coming or not. If you’re not, then I need to ask someone else.”

My mind had been so preoccupied with food that I’d completely forgotten about the party. Mom had said I could go, even though she’d made it clear that she thought a spa was too frivolous for someone my age. Badi Amma said it sounded like fun once I explained to her what a manicure was.

“Yeah,” I said. “I’m coming.”

Later that afternoon, I passed Marwa in the hall. I was so hungry, I thought I was going to faint.

“Math’s next,” she said cheerily.

“Whoop-dee-doo,” I said under my breath. Hadn’t she figured out by now how much I hated math?

“You’re pretty grouchy today,” she observed.

She was right, of course, but when she said it, I felt even
grouchier. “I guess not everybody can be like you.”

I dragged my feet into the classroom and slumped into my seat. I glared at my math book, wishing it was a big sandwich … or even a stale breakfast bar. Ramadan was supposed to teach a person about patience and compassion and remind them about people who have a lot less food to eat, but so far it was only reminding me about how hungry I was.

My stomach growled so loudly on the bus that I couldn’t think straight. Winnie chattered on and on, but her words were a big blur until she asked if I was hungry. I nodded my head. I was ravenous.

“Me too,” she said. “Here.” She thrust a yellow bag in my face. I breathed in the oniony smell.

“Thanks,” I said, and popped a crisp golden ring in my mouth. A Funyun had never tasted so good.

“More?” Winnie held out the bag again.

“Sure.” I was just about to toss another one into my mouth when Winnie screeched. “Wait! Aren’t you supposed to be fasting?”

I froze. The golden ring was an inch away from my tongue. My heart jumped into my mouth and I dropped the Funyun like a hot potato. I had forgotten! I had really and truly forgotten!

Zayd spun around in his seat. “You
ate
?”

The rumbling in my stomach was shocked into silence.

“Uh-oh! You made a big boo-boo, right?” Winnie said. “What are you going to do?”

I had no idea. I’d been so good all day. I’d gotten up right on time that morning. I’d avoided the cafeteria during lunch, turned away from Pringles and Hershey Bars and Doritos during recess, and walked past the water fountain in the afternoon. Now, just an hour or so shy of sunset, I had gone and ruined everything.

“I don’t know!” I groaned. “I’ll ask my grandmother.”