My daughter screamed when we left the park. She was four. The afternoon had been perfect. She had been on the swings for forty minutes. She had found a stick she was certain was magical. She had made … read more

My daughter asked me something at breakfast that I was not ready for. She had been studying the Seerah in her Islamic studies class. She came home and sat across from me with a look I recognized &mdas … read more

My nephew was six years old when he came to his mother with a question that stopped her cold. He had just finished his Quran lesson. He had been learning Surah Al-Ikhlas. His teacher had told him that … read more

My son refused to pray Maghrib. He was eight. He had been praying with us since he was five. He knew the rak'ahs. He knew the words. He could do it perfectly. But that evening he looked at me from the … read more

My daughter corrected me at Fajr. She was nine. We were praying together. I recited the basmala before Al-Fatiha, and she touched my arm after we finished. "Baba, your ghunnah on the meem was too shor … read more