A New Friend and Sister in Islam

I met Zarinah Awad at the first Muslim community event that I attended as a new Muslimah. She is as black as I am white and as outgoing as I was shy and apprehensive during those first months as a new Muslim. I remember getting my plate of food from a kind brother and then searching for a place to sit among the many sisters chattering away at the tables at the north end of the masjid courtyard. It was Zarinah who saw me standing there uncertainly holding my plate of food. She beckoned to me to come join her at the table she was presiding over as if she were a Queen...such was the respect and love I immediately noticed the other sisters directing to her.

I sat down and then introduced myself. The sisters nodded to me and said their names.. so many and foreign sounding... I just knew I would not remember their names and was certain I would mispronounce their names if I tried to speak them. The buzz of their lively talk resumed and I picked up my fork and began to eat while trying to catch the quick responses amid the laughter and young children coming up to mothers wanting a soft cheek kissed or a reassuring pat. Suddenly my left arm was jerked. I raised my head to see the sisters staring at me disapprovingly! The sister who had pulled on my abeya sleeve hissed, "Don't eat with your left hand!"

I quickly dropped the piece of flat bread as if it were a heated stone that burned my hand. The sisters were looking at the bread as if it were a snake or something worse. I gulped and hunched my shoulders... wishing I could disappear. I knew I had made some breach of etiquette, but didn't know what or why. I sat quietly with my hands folded in my lap and struggled within myself.. Should I get up and leave? Should I ask why? I remained seated like a wooden statue and let the conversations roll over me as I silently said du'aa asking Allah to help me somehow to fit into this new community. It was like being at the United Nations...so many races and cultures and nationalities represented around this table and among the community gathered in the courtyard.

The Adan sounded and everywhere my new Muslim brothers and sisters began hurrying to dump their plates in the large waste bins. Sister Zarinah paused by my side and told me to come with her to do wudu and prepare for the evening prayer. I followed Zarinah to the large women's rest room and watched as the sisters performed wu'du. I held back as I was not skilled at this yet and was worried I might make another mistake and look more foolish to these sisters. I went into a toilet stall, shut the door, and remained there until the room got quiet. I peeked out and saw that the room was empty. I quickly performed wu'du and then hurried to the steep stairway that led to the prayer room upstairs.

Quickly I mounted the stairs and reached the circular hallway that surrounded the prayer room. I caught my breath at the beauty and simplicity of the room...white walls, round columns embedded with cobalt blue stones and gold trimming Huge crystal chandlers hanging from the center of the circular room and soft velvety blue carpeting covering the circular walkway and prayer room. I could see the rows of sisters standing in the back of the room behind the children and the men at the front of the room. I quickened my steps and saw Zarinah motioning to me to come and stand next to her... shoulder to shoulder we stood waiting for the Imam to begin prayer.

My heart thudded in my chest. I had never prayed in community, only at home in the special prayer corner of my bedroom. At home I had index cards printed to help me pray correctly. I had only memorized Al Fatihah and did not yet know the other words to the prayer. I was often slow and many times did my prayer incorrectly, confusing the number of Raka and the prayer motions. I also had difficulty getting up and down from the floor.

I had been injured while on duty as a police officer many years before and my spine had arthritis making bending and getting up and down difficult. Standing here in line with so many sisters, I did not have a table to help me rise from the floor. I did not know what to do. Stay or leave? I stayed..... such was my great desire to finally pray with other Muslims in the masjid.

I followed along with the sisters, watching Sis Zarinah's motions and was okay until I tried to get up from the floor. I got stuck! I could feel the sisters' eyes upon me. I spoke softly saying I could not get up. Immediately some of the sisters began to hiss at me to be silent. I was close to tears when suddenly Sis Zarinah motioned to two sisters to come to my aid. Immediately there was a chair placed behind me and Sister Zarinah's smile eased my embarrassment.

When prayer ended, I sat quietly with bowed head as the sisters left the prayer room to meet up with children and husbands back in the courtyard. It had been a difficult evening for me.... trying to belong and feeling like a stranger with everything I was experiencing new and I being so awkward. As I sat in my chair saying du'aa, a sense of peace descended upon me. Sure, I had made many mistakes this evening. but I had also made a new friend. One who I knew would guide me rightly and be patient with me. I thanked Allah for giving me my first Muslim sister friend... my sister in Islam.