(This post was written a couple of years ago and is dedicated to all mothers who’ve ever tried to write a check...)

So, it’s really busy business being a mommy. Whenever someone asks me what I do, I answer, “I’m ‘just’ a mother.’ And then I explain that being a mommy is busy business, but I rack my brains to remember why it’s a busy business… Can’t I do more with my time? (Answer is yes, but when I can’t….)

So, this is why I can’t do much more with my time….

Today I came to write a check for a bill that arrived in the mail. I sit down and start writing the check. Baby is hungry. I get up and put an egg to boil, come back and entertain her a bit to get her to forget her hunger. I run off and find another working pen, and start writing check again. Older daughter finally agrees to use bathroom. I get up to help her.

The egg is ready by the time we’re finished in the bathroom. I cool it down under cold water, and put it for Baby to eat. A couple of minutes later, Baby decides it’s nasty and lobs it over the side of her high chair. Big Baby (older daughter) decides she wants an egg too, and I hear the sound of an egg cracking in the kitchen. I run to save the egg and my kitchen and pour some milk for Baby. I retrieve the egg, let her drink milk, and give her some egg to try again. I sit down and finish writing the check, but the envelope isn’t the right size, so I get up to get another envelope.

I run to the kitchen to make an omelet that I’m convinced won’t be eaten by Big Baby, run back and clean up the once again lobbed over side of high chair egg (stupid me), and address the new envelope. I take down Baby, wash her, place her on the floor (upset of course, because she’s sleepy). And I finish the envelope!!! I run, make the omelet and run back to stamp the envelope. Alhamdulillah, it’s done and waiting to be mailed tomorrow.

By the way, much to my delight and surprise, the 11 pm omelet gets eaten by a hungry 2 1/2 year old Big Baby. yay! And thirty minutes after I put my mind to getting this item off my to-do list, it’s finally done. Mission accomplished!

Fatima Abdallah

Fatima lives in Northern Virginia with her husband and two daughters.  She is currently a full-time mother and part-time youth worker with MAS Youth.

Teaching responsibility is not random or finite. And as much as we wish, it is not even tangible. It is the evolution of the building of the character and the guiding of the being that is your child. Perhaps “teaching” is the wrong word to begin with. It starts with that first spark of interest in the toddler mimicking what you do. He or she sees you sweep and wants to do the same…or to wipe the table or to fold the laundry. The child wants to do it because he / she loves you and wants to be more like you. From this viewpoint it is logical that we should then make “chores” a natural progression for the child like learning to walk, talk and hold a spoon. We should not impose our desires on that child because we are overworked and need the house perfect 24 hours a day. It is more logical to say, my child although 18 months, wants to clean the kitchen floor after I cook. So I will show him how I do that when I cook. My child, although 2 years old, wants to sweep. So I will show him how I do that. In this way when that child is five or six years old and you are a little tired, they will offer,” Mom you don’t have to clean the floor after you cook. Remember when I was a baby, you showed me how. I can do that for you.” And they will be so very proud of themselves and you will enjoy a mixture of relief and relaxation.

I have tried charts and rewards but I have found that all the “work” I did encouraging their musings as toddlers and infants is what really shines through. This is my fifth pregnancy and I am neither miserable nor very sick but my two oldest, now seven and nine, recognize that sometimes I need to nap. Daily without coercion, I hear, “Mom you go rest now while I do the dishes.” Or,”I will watch my little brother so that you can relax.” Or, “Mom I will make the lunches so we can go to the playground”. My home as a whole is not perfect, but they offer to help and try their best to clean up after themselves and split the responsibility or encourage their five year old sister to help out.

And with that I had an epiphany, you can not teach responsibility. You have to encourage the sparks of light throughout your child’s existence from their earliest show of interest in “helping out” and continue that tempered and enjoyable expression. You will see it progress as they evolve into their own and it will be natural…in harmony with their character and the flow of your lives together.

Cordelia Gaffar
Cordelia Gaffar is a mom for peace, justice and honor amongst humanity. She is blessed with two boys and two girls and lives outside Shenandoah Valley in West Virginia’s Eastern Panhandle.

This stream I sit next to - does it realize where it is going?  Does it realize where it came from? Does it matter to it? 

 It is flowing right here, right now - so much energy, such force, such determination!  All in one direction - blind faith; no arguments.  It sees the rocks in the middle, the trees that grow inside the stream, all acting as obstacles, but it does not allow itself to stop herself.  She just flows with such grace, such beauty, such purity, such val ore!

 As it flows, it creates energy, power,  a roar  - a declaration to itself and the universe - “Come on!  This way!”  From the highest of the mountain tops to its destiny, it just flows.  It does not even stop to rest or even reflect if it is going the right way.

 When the time comes to turn, it does, when the time comes to merge into something bigger, it will, when time tells it to flow alone with grander, it does.   Until then flow, just flow.

 And the marvel: as it flows with such intensity, such power, such steadfastness, it does not disturb the trees that grow around its banks even though the branches are just two feet above water, fortunate enough to witness the stream’s strength.  It does not disturb the animals that drink from it, it just flows.  It does not matter if it is day or night, sunny or cloudy, if people are around or not, it just flows - keeps going -  much more powerful than my little energizer bunny!

 I hear so much thunder, yet I am dry.  I don’t feel the rain, yet.  Will the thunder effect the river?

 Absolutely not - then why am I not like it? Can I be like it?  Can I flow the flow until my time comes to merge with something bigger?

 O Allah, help me just flow.  Help me in the midst of all the beauty, temptations, thunder, storms, help me just flow - towards You and You alone, ameen. 

Warda Faraz is a mother of 3 daughters and lives in Wyoming. She loves to spend time reading, gardening, and cooking

When I was a kid, my dad used to take my brother and me on long hikes through the woods and cow fields near our home. We called it the Cow Hike. We would set out after dinner to give my mother some peaceful time alone. We would find wild raspberries and moo at the cows. During the summer it was one of our favorite activities. What was strange about the Cow Hike was that every single time we went we would somehow get separated from my father. What was even stranger, though, was that we would often see him behind trees and such. Just for a fleeting moment we catch a glimpse of him. We would call out, but somehow he never would hear us. So, we would be forced to find our way home on our own. Yet as we approached civilization, he would reappear.

One night during dinner when I was a teenager, we were talking about old times and the Cow Hike. As I was thinking back, it hit me. I asked him, “You were hiding on purpose, weren’t you?” He smiled. My dad was testing us. He was hiding on purpose to see if we could find our way home without him. I was so shocked and angry, I didn’t speak to him at all the rest of the evening. The next day at school, I told my sad story of a cruel father to my friends.

Now, though, when I think about what he did and those long hikes, I find myself laughing and even grateful. The Cow Hike was a great bonding experience for my brother and me. We learned our way around those woods and fields. We learned to rely on one another. We learned not to be afraid when we thought we were lost.

I wonder what I’m doing now that will become my kids’ Cow Hike.

Laura Brown
Laura Brown is a stay at home mom of two little ones. She happily holds the title of CFO (Chief Financial Officer) of her family. She blogs about her money-saving ways at Blessings in Bargains.

Alhamdulillah, my meetings with the teachers at the four schools all went well. But there was one school that stood out, just as I hoped and prayed one would. At this particular school, after chatting with the teachers, one teacher pulled me aside in the hallway. “I like you,” she started. “I like you a lot. I want to know more about the teaching methods you were talking about.”

I followed her into her room, where we engaged in a discussion that lasted over an hour. We found ourselves finishing each other’s sentences and repeating, “I know!”, “exactly”, and “absolutely!”. The principal would pop her head in every 15 minutes or so, wink at us and flash a great, big smile. At her last “drop by” she interrupted us by saying something along the lines of, “I knew you would be a perfect fit here.” Since I know I can talk for days on end, I chose that moment to thank the teacher that I quickly grew so fond of, we said our goodbyes, and I walked out her class with the principal. On my way out with the principal, she stopped several times to introduce me to staff members. The way she was introducing and talking about me to the staff members made me feel like a celebrity!

Needless to say, I knew that this was the school that was right for me. As I was talking to my husband about it, I almost started to think twice. This was the farthest of the four schools. Was I making the right decisions? “Don’t let one or two miles change your feelings.” My husband warned me. He was right. All four schools were within five miles from my house. Inshallah I did make the right decision, and inshallah Allah will continue to guide me and bring me to people who will not only see beyond my hijab but see and understand the hijab and its deep meanings as well.

Part I

Part II

Third, as wives of Islamic workers and students, women who understand the significance of Islamic knowledge and work, are able to make personal sacrifices on its path, and also be truly supportive to their husbands, and their children’s role in it. How many husbands who are students of knowledge or busy in dawa cannot communicate their struggles and discuss their experiences and learnings with their wives because their wives simply don’t have even the Islamic vocabulary to understand such discussions? Yet, I have seen the amazing example of some brothers who took the time to help get their wives ‘on board’ and make personal sacrifices to help their wives’ Islamic education and development. Such an investment has long-lasting effects in both worlds, and reveals deep sincerity for the cause of Islam. A woman who shares the path of knowledge and service with her husband is able to relate to him and provide support at a different level, because of her deep personal appreciation for such a path…because she shares that path. This doesn’t mean both men and women have to be doing the exact same things at the exact same level, but it means both should at least share the path at whatever capacity they each are able to in accordance with their life circumstances.

Fourth, we see in the Seerah of the Rasool (saw) and our Islamic history importance given to the education of our sisters. Just as the Prophet (saw) set aside a time to teach the women in his community each week, the women of our communities should also be encouraged in learning and given time for education and development. I have unfortunately witnessed wives prohibited from even online Islamic courses, and yet encouraged and allowed to spend hours window-shopping at the mall, by brothers who are themselves busy with Islamic work. What type of wife, mother, and more importantly, slave of Allah, does that produce? When this inherent contradiction is reversed in our communities, I have strong hope we will see great changes insha Allah, not only in the women themselves but on a large social scale. As the old saying goes “the hand that rocks the cradle, is the hand that rules the world.” The generation of the Tabi’een were developed by the mothers who were Sahabiat. Dr. Mohammad Ammara mentions in his book, “At-Tahreer Al-Islami lil Mar’a” (The Islamic Liberation of the Woman) that no less than 1000 Sahabiat were developed, educated and trained in the madrasa of the Prophet Muhammad (saw). Subhan Allah, how much he (saw) cared for our sisters to study and develop! Furthermore, Islamic History shows us that we never saw a rise in our global position as an ummah, that did not also reflect a rise in the great women that helped carry the amana (trust) of serving this deen. Today, we live at a time where the generation of the next Islamic awakening and revival is being developed, and our choices and attitudes will have an unmistakable impact on the generation produced.

When our sisters are encouraged and supported in learning the way that Mariam(as) was, at a community level, we will start to see the casual conversations of our women transition from personal hygiene tips, recipes, sales at the mall, back-biting, complaining, and story-telling of one’s’ family to conversations that reflect a mind and heart that is thoroughly concerned and busy with the priorities of the Muslim community, bettering the conditions of their societies and humanity at large, and other beneficial matters. This doesn’t mean one can’t joke and relax with their sisters. It simply means, beneficial speech would become the rule, not the exception just as the education and Islamic development of our sisters would become the rule, not the exception. While alhamdulilah, signs of progress in this area have appeared, we still have, as an ummah, much room for improvement. So when we remember the honored place of Mariam(as) in Paradise, and reflect on her example to all women, let us never forget, that she started as a student.

Muslema Purmul

Muslema Purmul is a student at the Women’s College of Islamic Law at Al-Azhar University in Cairo. She and her husband have been pursuing Islamic studies overseas for the last four years. Originally from San Diego, Calif., Muslema and her husband spend their summers teaching at the Islamic American University and visiting MAS chapters across the country, providing lectures and training.

My mother watches my son while I’m at work. Last week, when I picked him up, she handed me a small gift bag. “What’s this?” I asked. There was no special occasion, and so if it was something she had bought for me while shopping, it didn’t need to be in a gift bag with tissue paper. “Just a simple gift,” she replied. I kissed her goodbye, thanked her, and was on my way.

In the rush and commotion of putting my son in his carseat, I had placed the gift bag close to the door, on the floor, along with his diaper bag. During my 45 minute commute home, I kept attempting to reach over to the gift bag, with no avail. What could the simple gift be?

Of course when I drove into the garage, my son started fussing, causing me to forget about the gift bag for a few minutes. I took him out, leaving the gift bag in the car, took him into the house and started his nap time routine: diaper change, bottle of milk, shut the blinds, and put him into his crib with a blanket and pacifier. As I closed his bedroom door, I remembered the gift bag. I ran back to the garage, took out the bag and ran back into the house.

Sitting on the couch, I carefully removed the tissue paper and pulled out the “simple gift.” It was beyond simple. In my hands, I held a Quran and a Dua’a book tied together with a home-made ribbon. I lightly touched the Quran with the tips of my fingers as thought I have never touched one before. Of course I have a number of Qurans and Islalmic books in my home, but something about this one was different. It was a gift. And not just any gift. It was the holiest and most meaningful gift someone can give or receive. It’s the kind of gift that should be used on a daily basis and yet my busy life had been too busy for the past couple months. I opened the dua’a book and started reading from it. Two hours had passed when I finished reading the last page and my son started to wake up from his nap. I placed the book down next to the Quran and as I stood up I felt a renewed energy and a feeling of great accomplishment- even though I hadn’t started any of the house chores.

Since then, I get excited whenever my son is sleeping and I have time for myself so that I can read from the Quran or from the dua’a book. Subhanallah, it took a “simple gift”- another Quran in the house- to get me reading from it again. Our lives can be so hectic sometimes, but the importance of putting out time in the day to read from the Quran is so important. Insha’allah this simple gift of mine will remind me to do just that, each day.

Hoda Kwaik

Hoda Kwaik is a wife and a mother to a stillborn daughter in heaven and a one year old son. She is an elementary school teacher in public school and lives in Virginia.

Not a linguist myself, I come from a family of linguists. Perhaps that is why I appreciate the power of language not only in conveying information but in shaping one’s mind. Like all multi-lingual children, I grew up realizing that certain words in one of my languages did not have a translation or equivalent in another one. This conveyed to me not just a deficiency in vocabulary, but a void of ideas. That the Urdu word “nazar” has no English equivalent meant to me that it must be only South Asians who believe in the jinxing affect of an envious evil eye. That Hindi has no commonly used words for “thank you” or “please” meant to me that perhaps Indians weren’t so concerned about manners- though I realized later it’s that the culture demands manners and respect in deed, not simply in words. This is a commonly accepted linguistic phenomenon - that a culture will only create a word for concept it contains, and will not have words for concepts unknown to its people. The words we use and the languages we learn define our world.

The way we have been raising our daughter, we have not used a lot of “religious terms.” We don’t talk about barakah or hasanaat. We don’t talk about angels and good and bad deeds. We don’t even use the words Islam or Muslim a lot, partly because I don’t want her growing up thinking of the world as some sort of Muslim - non-Muslim dichotomy. We focus on the idea of tawhid - that Allah (swt) has created everything, is All-Knowing and All-Powerful, and out of gratefulness to Allah (I even try not to use a personal pronoun because using “He” confuses her) we strive to please Allah and follow Allah’s guidance. All the other things are simply means of conveying the same idea, means of simplifying the abstractions. They are secondary to the core message of Allah (swt) - who doesn’t need angels, books, or anything else to convey Islam or to judge us and hold us accountable.

I recently sat down with my daughter to explain some of the shorter surahs in the Qur’an in greater detail. When she was a bit younger, I would simply give her the gist of the meanings. Now that she is older, I’ve started to explain more of the terminology and specific words she is reciting. While reviewing surat al-Maun, I paused at the word “deen.” I realized that this was the first time I was to define this word for her. What I said at that point would very possibly stick with her for the rest of her life as the fundamental meaning of a term that is arguably one of the most important in my life. I couldn’t use “religion” because it’s not really accurate, and then I’d have to define that word too. I couldn’t just talk about Islam, because Allah (swt) talks about people who are not Muslims also having a “deen.” How could I convey this concept - a way of life that people choose to live by, one of which is Islam that has been described to us by Allah in the Qur’an and through the Prophet Muhammad (saws)? The way of life that determines our every action, our thoughts, behavior and relationships.

In the end, I asked Allah (swt) for guidance and I described it as just that, but in almost-4-year-old words. “Oh… okay!” she says. Does that mean she got it? Does that mean I explained it so much that she just stopped listening? Did she even listen at all? I suppose I did the best I could do. And then I think - perhaps she’ll come back to me in ten years and define it for me, based on her experiences, ideas, and connection to Allah (swt). She may just teach me a thing or two and change MY worldview… she already has!

Bhawana Kamil
Bhawana Kamil lives in Santa Clara, CA with her husband and daughter. She teaches Ethics at San Jose State University, and is the president of the Bay Area chapter of the Muslim American Society - but only on the side. Her real job is watching (and hopefully helping) her little girl grow up!

Of all the women mentioned in the Quran, only Mariam (as) was mentioned by name, repeatedly, and even a surah was named after her. She, who Allah chose above all the women in the world (Al-Imran:42) and in Paradise (Saheeh Hadith from Hakim’s Al-Mustadrak), she, whose fame rose above all other women in history, honored for her virtue, she who faced her tests with courage and conviction, is Islam’s ideal of womanhood.

Indeed it is necessary for both women and men to reflect upon lessons from her life. I will look at Mariam’s role in seeking knowledge, her spirituality, her concern and contribution to the dawaa of Islam, her mother and her own motherhood, her character, and finally some general lessons that we take from her story in the Quran. May Allah(swt) help our sisters to become like Mariam(as) and help our brothers to encourage and aid the development of sisters who ‘wanna be like Mariam.’

Our first lesson: Mariam was an honored student of knowledge. Allah (swt) says about her, “He made her grow in a good manner and put her under the care of Zakariya. Every time he entered al-Mihrab to visit her…” (Al-Imran: 37) Al-Qurtubi explains in his tafseer that the word “Kaffala” translated as “care” means more than guardianship. Rather, he and the scholars of deen would teach her the revelation of Allah (swt) in the masjid when she was young. The scholars would even compete to teach her, as she was a bright student and she was also the first female to be taught in the masjid.

When she grew older, they made a separate room for her described as al-Mihrab. Sheikh Abdel Kareem Zaidan explains that al-Mihrab is a special room or an elevated place. Tafsir al-Qaasimi mentions the opinion that al-Mihrab is the best and most honored place to sit in a gathering, and as such, al-Mihrab is the most honored place in the masjid. Thus, Mariam was an honored student, taught by a prophet, Zakariya (as), and the scholars of deen. There are many opinions describing why, but it suffices for us here to say, the best woman who walked this earth, in her young years, was someone who studied her religion, someone who had a connection with the revelation, and someone who impressed even her teachers.

Many times sisters are discouraged from pursuing studies that would be beneficial for themselves and the Muslim community. They are told that their greatest role in life is their role as wife and mother, so they shouldn’t focus so much on their Islamic education or otherwise. There is an inherent contradiction in this viewpoint.

First, while these roles are extremely significant, other opinions provide a more comprehensive approach to the “most important role.” Dr. Jamal Badawi’s “Gender Equity in Islam” discusses the spiritual equality of both women and men, and what is deemed “the best” according to the Quran: O mankind! We created you from a single (pair) of a male and a female, and made you into nations and tribes, that you may know each other. Verily the most honored of you in the sight of Allah is (one who is) the most righteous of you. And Allah has full knowledge and is well acquanted (with all things). (49:13) These verses point to the role that both women and men play as devout servants of Allah which may take different forms at different stages in life for both.

I tend to lean toward this semantic approach in understanding what is the best role for a Muslim woman, because it covers her entire lifespan, and includes women who never were able to get married, or have children, and concretely describes her goal as seeking Allah’s pleasure, while her contributions to her family are from her means of achieving her goal. Scholars who use the former semantic approach equally stress the importance of our sisters’ education. Therfore, it puzzles me when the excuse of the woman’s family obligations is used to completely neglect her Islamic education and development.

Second, we see in the life of Mariam, the pinnacle of motherhood and womanhood, that before she was a mother, she was a student, and a an exceptional one at that. Before mothers can give good tarbiyah–training and education to their children–they have to receive it. Seeking knowledge is a crucial component of a balanced tarbiyah. The community only grows stronger when our sisters are educated. In the words of El Hajj Malik Ash-Shabazz (Malcom X), “Educate a man and you educate one person; Educate a woman and you educate and liberate an entire generation!” We also notice that the best of men in her time, Zakariya(as) a Prophet and the scholars of the masjid took the time to teach her. May Allah(swt) multiply the rewards for the imams and shuyukh of our time who continue this legacy of teaching the sisters. While there are those who refuse to teach women completely, this does not reflect the attitude of Zakariya (as) and the shuyukh of his time nor the sunnah of the Rasool (saw) which will be discussed later. (to be continued in Part II on Thursday)

Muslema Purmul

Muslema Purmul is a student at the Women’s College of Islamic Law at Al-Azhar University in Cairo. She and her husband have been pursuing Islamic studies overseas for the last four years. Originally from San Diego, Calif., Muslema and her husband spend their summers teaching at the Islamic American University and visiting MAS chapters across the country, providing lectures and training.

Read this sad story of an inheritance predicament and learn a lesson. When my husband’s father died more than thirty years ago, the inheritance was divided among his wife and three sons. (There are no daughters) My husband’s mother died a few years after that, and her inheritance was divided among the three sons. I say “divided,” but the inheritances were not actually physically divided; rather they were divided on a paper that the sons wrote themselves. It was something like this: one third of an orchard to each son, half of a certain shop to one son and a third of another shop to another son, and so on. The properties had been evaluated, and they were divided so that each of the three sons received the same value. But it stopped there. The properties were not sold so that the money could be divided, and the brothers did not buy one another out so that each would hold full title to certain land or real estates.

Thus the inheritances remained divided on paper only. Mustafa, the eldest brother, was of the opinion that the orchard should stay whole and not be cut into three pieces, yet none of the brothers had enough money to buy the others’ shares. There were various shops and apartments that were also divided into shares on the paper, and these also remained undivided in fact. Ahmad, the middle brother, has, over the years, wanted his shares sold so that he could use the money for other purposes. Muhammad (my husband), the youngest brother, has been in Saudi Arabia for most of this time, and he has been content to leave the matter to Mustafa.

All three brothers are now in their 70’s and have grandchildren and nearly great-grandchildren. We travelled to Turkey last summer, and the situation turned from bad to worse. Ahmad is now not speaking to Mustafa and refuses any communication with him. Mustafa is perplexed and still says that the time is not right for selling many of the properties because the economy is so bad, although he is about ready to throw up his hands and let Ahmad do whatever he wants. Experts were called in to re-evaluate all of the inheritances, and a paper was drawn up and signed by the three brothers.

Now Ahmad is very angry and repudiates this division and says he was mistaken to sign anything. He has gone to court and sued Mustafa and Muhammad. We were recently informed that Ahmad lost the case, but we don’t know if he will appeal or open a new case or let the matter rest.

I feel sick thinking of it, and I wonder if our children and grandchildren will become embroiled in the mess. How much worse can it get? A lot. What if the properties have to be divided, not among the sons, but among the sons’ children or even among the sons’ grandchildren as generations pass away? The whole bunch might be at each other’s throats. When we are told, time and again, to resolve inheritance issues immediately after the deceased has been buried, why do some people not heed this? I suppose they think that they will never quarrel, and that they will all live happily ever after, side by side. It doesn’t happen.

Susan Akyurt
Susan Akyurt has lived in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia with her husband for the last 31 years. She has four daughters, one living near her in Jeddah and three living in the DC metropolitan area. She loves reading, writing and corresponding with her family.