Asalamualaykum wa rahmatullahi wa barakatu everyone,
I hope you are all having a fruitful Ramadan. I’m off social media to take advantage of this blessed time but I popped back on to share this reflection which I think some of you may resonate with.
Yesterday, we went to our local masjid and as we walked into the sister’s section the salaah had already begun, the Imam was reciting, there was a wonderful atmosphere, filled with peace and serenity.
But just as I was about to join the jama’ah with my kiddos I was swiftly told I had to go upstairs since this area was for women without children.
I didn’t mind, and off we headed upstairs. But as soon as we reached the top of the stairs, I almost felt like I was in a different masjid. The atmosphere was totally different.
I wasn’t met with silence but with the sound of a crying baby, the smell of bottled milk and a sight of scattered baby bags.
As I made my way further into the room, I walked past a woman trying to settle her child before the next rakaah began, another scrambling to find things to keep her toddler busy and another who just looked worried; I’m guessing she was hoping her baby would sleep through the salaah.
And it dawned on me. That even though I didn’t know these women, and they didn’t know each other; we were connected.
We didn’t have to say anything but the struggle voiced itself.
I didn’t know where she was from, but I had a good idea of what was going through her mind.
And I’m pretty sure we all had a pack of baby wipes in our bag somewhere.
You see, when Ramadan comes, we as mother’s often voluntarily put ourself at the back of the queue. We facilitate everyone else’s ibadaah, be it ensuring our children read more Qur’an, to making sure our husband’s clothes are ready for taraweeh, to cooking up a gourmet iftaar.
And while that is wonderful, and a path to seek reward, sometimes we need to just put everything aside….just for a few moments, and think about nothing and no one, except for ourselves. Because these precious moments give us the momentum to then give back to those around us.
Aside from that, I noticed something just as wonderful. Our common struggle resulted in a non judgemental atmosphere.
You see, I understood why the sister was there….and that was far dearer to me than caring if her child was in her pyjamas.
Sisters didn’t get mad when a random toddler tugged at their khimar…they were used to it.
Noone seemed to point fingers when a child was disruptive – there were no stern looks.
My dua for you my dear sister is that you benefitted from those few moments of peace…may Allah reward you in abundance for all your beautiful effort, Ameen.
And if you ever run out of baby wipes? I have plenty…don’t worry.