Posts Tagged ‘friends’

No Ordinary Plain Jane

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No Ordinary Plain Jane

It was on one occasion that I remember her sitting across the table from me with a stern gaze. She traced her fingers along the rim of her mug as she spoke, “I’m just a plain Jane, you know? I don’t think I’m Muslim enough to wear hijab”. Muslim enough, I thought. “I don’t get what you mean,” I glanced at her as I tilted my head, puzzled. “I mean, I’m not worthy enough and that I’m not practicing enough…” she replied. I paused to formulate a precise response but all I could say was, “You’re no ordinary plain Jane.” She smiled her signature smile of humility and shook her head.

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Sticks and Stones

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Sticks and Stones

I first met Ayesha when we were both in elementary school. Our families had met at the masjid, and as Allah willed, we found out they lived on the street right next to us. Although Ayesha was a year older than I was, and we were in none of the same classes, we still played like close friends. Whether it was chasing each other on hot summer afternoons during an exhilarating game of freeze-tag, or playing with pink Barbies in her cluttered but cozy bedroom, we always had a good time.

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Moments of Time

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Moments of Time

I’ve decided, I’m going to do it. Not that it’s a decision I really need to weigh the pros and cons of, because really there are only pros. And I know that — I always knew it — just something within held me back, and I regret that I haven’t made this decision earlier. But, the important part is, I’ve decided and I’m going to do it. It’s been so long overdue, it really has. But I can finally breathe now, almost like a very, very large weight has been lifted from my chest. Alhamdullilah! I can’t help but smile, and it’s one of those full large smiles that literally takes up my whole face.

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A Friend’s Correspondence: If Ever a Heart Could Fly

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A Friend’s Correspondence: If Ever a Heart Could Fly

What do you see when you look back on your youth? Are any of your memories recorded? The following submission from F—– (she asked that we keep her and her friends’ names anonymous) is a relic of her sixteen year-old self. It is a study of youth and friendship, of language and writing, and a tribute to the love of hijab…

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Lifting Weights

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Lifting Weights

… I was amazed at how quickly my friend recognized the shirt was not covering me in terms of what is properly required in Islam. I had known that she understood the terms of hijab, but I did not think she would immediately recognize the shirt was not covering me properly…

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