I remember the day you were born. My first grandchild. What a novelty! You were beautiful and cuddly. At age one, you were a happy child. At two, you were witty, expressive and as loving as a two-year-old could be. At three, you changed. The doctor said it was autism.
Read moreA Prayer to End the Nightmare
A bomb goes off in my neighborhood. I sit stunned and horrified, as the news flashes on my computer screen. My husband had just gone out to mail a letter. Dear God. Let him be o.k. I reach out to call him. No answer. Maybe he didn’t hear the phone ring.
Read morePOST HAJJ: So What's The Point of It
“Just landed,” a text from my son, as we got off the exit for Kennedy Airport. Alhamdulillah! I clutched the bouquet of flowers—a far cry from the garlands of roses that every one of the twenty-plus relatives drapes around a Hajji walking off the plane at airports in Pakistan. I had hurriedly picked up the bouquet
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