Excerpt: Just when I was worried that my son was becoming a Catholic, we got invited to a party celebrating Diwali — the festival of lights that signifies victory of good over evil — at our secular Hindu neighbor’s house. Zayd was uncharacteristically quiet for most of it, but when the food arrived, he looked over at his friend — the neighbor’s child — and said: “Karthik, you need to say Shukrun Lillah before you eat.”
I was one proud papa witnessing that moment. “He remembers a Muslim prayer of gratitude,” I thought to myself.
My pride was interrupted by Zayd’s rising voice. He was insisting that Karthik say Shukrun Lillah. Karthik’s parents shot my wife and me a look that to me said, “We thought you weren’t those kind of Muslims.” My wife shot me a look that said, “You’re the religion guy — handle this.”
I blurted out: “Karthik doesn’t have to say Shukrun Lillah, love. We say Shukrun Lillah for Karthik. I want you to go back to your plate and close your eyes and think of your food and Karthik and everything and everybody you love and say Shukrun Lillah — you’re thanking God for all of it. How does that sound?”
Zayd, remarkably, thought it sounded good. My wife gave me a “not bad” look.
Ismailimail 