Photos from Boston.com
Ramadan in its most American form -- a table setting in Massachusetts does justice to my experience of iftaar-breaking as a prolongued Thanksgiving (turkey-as-optional).
Just before where she was and where she will be, the girl with the heart stitched onto her dress is a breath of stillness at the center of such blurringly active spirituality.
My favorite prayer mat as a little girl was my green slim mat which had come from a shopping trip in Mecca. Mother was in her abaya and a strand of curled hair had slipped out. The heat had made her face red and moist. She was laughing with the prayer mats rolled under her arms. I tried climbing up to her lap, but slipped on layers of black silk. My father slipped a cold Pepsi (which we pronounced Bebsi) into my hand and the world was beautiful even if I couldn't reach my mother's lap.