This article is my submission to the blog challenge sponsored by Darlene Schacht , Author of The Mom Complex. Long-time readers of this blog may remember this post from August 2005. It’s one of my favorite “mom moments.”
Now where I live is not exactly the melting pot of America. After living here in this house for almost eight years, I’ve only seen one Muslim. It’s really too bad because it would be nice to have friends that don’t look like me or come from another country.
Anyway, there she was waiting with her little girl for the storytime to start. I had baby Lucy in the stroller, so I parked it next to her hoping to start a conversation. She was young, several years younger than I, with stylish eyeglasses. Her skin a beautiful olive next to my Irish complexion. And she wore the traditional Muslim hijab. Plus, she was wearing a long-sleeved blouse with slacks, most of the other women in the store wore shorts.
She peered into the stroller to admire Lucy and smiled at me. I smiled back.
Normally I don’t have a problem starting a conversation with another mother. There is so much to talk about with all the things we have in common, but this was different. Tougher. Maybe because she was with her husband. Maybe she was shy. Maybe because she was Muslim and I’m Christian.
What was she thinking? Did she want to talk to me?
I wish I had the chance to connect with her beyond our superficial conversation. I only had a chance to make a quick comment regarding the baby before I had to chase down my three-year-old getting into mischief. I guess there wasn’t much I could have said in such a short amount of time, but still it would have been nice to have made a friend.
I wanted her to know I wanted to talk with her. I think perhaps I was trying in my own way to make peace with the only person I could share peace with.
I’ll probably never see her again. I wish I knew her name.
I remember meeting a woman once in a store. I felt an immediate connection with her, in fact I knew that if I only had a few hours more we’d likely be best friends. Like you, my time was cut short. Ugh. Heaven with its endless time will be wonderful, won’t it?
Yes, and as a child I remember thinking I would get bored there with all of eternity to fill. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around it all, but no longer concerned I’ll be with nothing to do. Thanks for stopping by my little blog.
I visited you through CW Online. That was a lovely story. I often have those moments where I feel prompted to say something- sometimes they pass before I have a chance to say anything.
Such incidents had occurred to me too, when we wished we did talk with the people we want. But, since I live in Malaysia, which is a multi-racial country, I have lots of friends who are Muslim, Buddhists as well as Hindus. I’m a Catholic. We still have lots of fun, making jokes and hanging out. Religion is not a barrier.
Josette, thanks for your comment. Religion wasn’t the problem. It was the wild toddler I was trying to tame.