Had one long, delightful day. The kids make it.

Bee, thanks for all the info and the links. I myself am something of an expert novice on employment law- out of necessity. Being black, female and Muslim can sometimes be a frustrating state but I always make sure I make my point and make it well. When the you-know-what hits the fan, I never mince my words. I get right to the point, collect all the information that I can use to my advantage and communicate it clearly. Leave an organisation if you have to but by GOD, leave in style. Thanks again.

Allah yarxamha.

Allah yarxamhu. He passed away in Ramadan..

I did not get in any way upset. It is hugely disappointing that that is their policy but I had no desire to get into a debate with him about it. One, I wanted to preserve the peace that I had acquired this Ramadan and didn't want to risk an argument. Two, my presence alone would have made this man consider his words and the organisation's policy. He was uncomfortable and his effort at confidence made him appear arrogant. He has not heard the last of me. While I was waiting at reception, I noticed that none of the Turks acknowledged me. None. Except for one man who walks in, glances at me, stops close to me and pointing at me with his car keys says to the receptionist, 'Why is she here?' Such bad mannered people! Orgilaqe, PM me that proposal but make it clear and concise. I can't handle bad communicators. Bee, I will write a letter once I've heard from them- should they bother. My word against his- how do you go to court with that anyway? Sis, thanks, I chose to be cool. When you keep calm you stay smart and can take control of a situation. Ngonge: I don't know why I have felt the need to share my stories this Ramadan- all I know is I needed to relate how we can be better Muslims with my meaningful experiences. I hope it was useful, I enjoyed sharing them. No doubt I will retreat into the palace after Ramadan. And then where will you be? Muadiid: Thanks. You can't tell how you'll handle a situation until you actually experience it. Nova: Thank you. I was offered a job last week(somewhere else) but I wanted to have the opportunity to contribute to this Muslim run place too which is I went. Their loss. I have become much more patient this Ramadan. The other day, minutes before the time to break fast I was challenged by a complete stranger who approached me in a shop and tried to demand answers and intimidate me(about my ethnicity and faith). I let him go easily as I could feel myself getting worked up and didn't want to jeopardise my fast- not for some rude man who wanted a reaction out of a Muslim. I have a feeling I will see him again. You have to pick your battles and your timing. The pen is mightier than the sword.

Rather long but a lot can happen in 30 hours. Do read. The roof and the Night Very early morning on the 26th day of Ramadan and I'm trying to eat a rather delicious boiled egg for Suxuur(don't ask). The pain is intense, my wisdom tooth has left my mouth paralysed but painful and the flu has me in a perpetual fever. I hear a loud bang and wonder what in God's name that is. What it was was my neighbour's roof caving in. The leaking roof had woken her up from sleep and she had placed something under the leak. Unable to sleep, she sat where she was sleeping minutes before and watched the dripping ceiling in the darkness. Her son lay close to her. Suddenly the ceiling starts to groan and she just knows that that roof is coming down. She jumps up, rushes to her son- fast asleep, big-boned(bless him) and very asleep. She grabs him and rushes away from the direction of the noise stumbling with panic and her son's weight. Behind her the roof collapses and the debris follows her- just like in the movies. 7 am and I'm asleep. I've clocked up about 3 hours sleep. My neighbour arrives at my door. The roof fell, she says. What? I'm heaing her well enough but after days of sickness and lack of sleep, I need to sit down for the details before I do something girly. She smiles but it's the smile of a spooked woman. I go and survey the damage and God Almighty, it's spectacularly catastrophic. Most of the debris has landed on the spot where they were sleeping. If that leaking roof hadn't kept her up..She says she's lucky. I say, no, it wasn't their time to die. I give them keys to my house so they can come and go as they please. Her landlady does what landowners do best and refuses to fix the roof. She says my neighbour would have to pay for half the cost of the roof! I want to stay and support her but my very own landlady drags me away- mine is sweet and links arms with me. I'm worried about the neighbour, her livelihood also depends on the house where she lives. A selfish thought occurs to me and won't go away. It might be Laylatul Qadr and I'll have traumatised guests to accomodate tonight. My neighbour also needs advice and comfort. I absolutely have no problem with providing them with whatever they need but what about my spiritual time? I decide to tell her of the importance of The Night and tell her I need some time to be alone but that I'd return. I shower, close myself up in my room and engage in some intensive supplication and dua. Only half an hour. They spend the night at my place and my neighbour talks and talks and I try and comfort her. There are tears in her eyes- does she take the leap and leave the property and find somewhere else? Would her business be ruined? How would she feed her children- she was widowed at age 27? I do what I can and in the pauses, I pray for forgiveness, paradise, strength, the straight path, my mother, my father... Every moment of quietness I fill with prayer and supplication. I get to bed at midnight and have some quiet time to myself. It doesn't last long- the days of sickness and the lack of sleep work against me and pull me away from wakefulness. My eyes keep closing, I can't even concentrate. I pray one last concentrated prayer and sleep. Morning comes and I'm riddled with sadness. After a particularly good Ramadan I feel like I have fallen at the last hurdle. Grief floods me. I know that it wasn't necessarily the night but still I'm inconsolable. I force myself to leave the house. I have to attend an interview at an organisation- 2 separate interviews in less than a week. I thank God for the opportunities but my heart's heavy. I remember the dream I had the night before. I'm standing in a room without my hijab when a male relative enters the room. He pauses next to me but doesn't look my way- it's like he senses me there but walks away quickly. I pick up my hijab- it's baby pink, soft and the kind of thing I've never worn before. In the morning I wonder what that means. I have a brand new one just like the one from the dream but have not had the courage to wear it yet(too bright). The Interview At Reception, a lady sits next to me. She works there. She touches the back of my hand and says, 'This matters here', i.e the colour of skin. When doesn't it, I think. I thank her for the tip. The organisation was started by a Muslim man. I was hoping things would be diferent there. A man arrives and greets me. He stands so far away from me we could have had a ping-pong table between us and a game while we were at it. His body language is not welcoming and he starts listening in to the conversation of a couple of other people before I can even respond. I stand up, walk around the coffee table and because he has made me feel uncomfortable and I want to break the ice, I offer him my hand. He waves it away. Great, I think, the one time I offer my hand, I offer it to a Muslim who won't shake hands with me. Inside an office, he apologises and says, 'U understand- I'm Turkish'. I think he means he means 'I'm Muslim' but I just nod. me(smiling): I don't usually offer my hand and the one time I do.. him: u pick the wrong person me: I pick the right person way over his head He can't find my CV but he remembers bits and pieces from when he first saw it. I'm not comfortable, already I don't want the job. There follows a string of questions which are more personal than they should be. I answer them as I'm aware I'm challenging his perception of reality(always a treat) and watch his face closely. He then asks me a question...- blah, blah, unusual for a Muslim, don't u think? 'You must mean unusual for a Muslim woman'. I smile. He flusters and fumbles with his notebook. Yes, yes, of course, I mean Muslim woman. Well, why don't u ask what u mean to ask? I'm not hear to help u work through your perception of womanhood. Work on that in your own time. I don't answer the question and he drops that line of questioning. And then it gets more interesting: him: what is your experience of...(he spins his finger around his head) me: the hijab? I've never felt like my life was in danger as a result. Sure, soon after Sept the 11th, I wasn't people's favourite person in the world but.. interruption him: yes, yes, shortly after...mumble, mumble...stop. Bad intreviewing technique. Bad communication skills period. I wonder why for someone who won't shake hands, my hijab is such a big deal! I'm very curious.. him: so would it be a problem for you? me: the hijab? him:yes I know where this is going now. He's taking the long scenic route. me: what about it?(the hijab) Do u mean, would I take it off? him: yes me: ABSOLUTELY NOT. I shake my head very slowly and very gravely. He gets the point and looks down. Then he starts rambling on. From what I can gather, quiet company policy is to have wearers of hijabs remove them. U understand, he says, we have to be sensitive to sensitive people. I don't know if he's referring to secular Turks who run the organisation or others. I don't care. I want to wrap this baby up. him: my wife, she comes here and takes it off. When she leaves she wears it again. me: your wife works here? him: yes, a little. him: wearing it is a personal thing me: a VERY personal thing way over his head He rambles on some more....have to discuss with other colleagues etc.. I want to say don't bother but decide to save my feedback for when the process is complete. In writing. I walk to the door and he lets me go through first. I turn back to say good bye and he's already gone the other way and walking into another room. I may as well not have existed. I say good bye to his retreating back anyway. What happened to Turkish hospitality? The girl at reception says, 'See you again!' Maybe, I say smiling, meaning: Hell, No. I leave smiling. Somehow, the disappointment of the morning and the night before has disappeared. There are some choices that can barely be classified as choice for me and this is one of them. I remember the pink hijab in the dream. It will be coming out on Eid day. Eid Mubarak, boys and girls and hold fast to your faith. Don't forget the children!

...boy's moved on to Kuwait since... ..there's a post on that too.. ..boy'll probably be back in Cambodia before u find it..

Raami,I knew you would pick up on my subtle request to keep the flames of the Shiisha's duxul alive. Fan away mate, I tip well. Whataguywhataguy

Horrified at the thought of a white dress, a tuxedo, matching bridesmaids' gowns, look-alike malxiis and malxiisa, too sweet cake, greasy food, screechy music, bad dancing, pretence at not wanting to dance but dancing nonetheless, 24 carat gold weighing women down, guys leaning against walls and doors and lurking in corridors, fist-fights, hair-pulling, gossiping, pulling, getting pulled, getting high on xalwa and to top it all off.. getting stared at and being the centre of the waste of it all? Mayamayamayamaya. There are far less tortuous ways to spend an evening. I want to be in that smokey cafe in Marble Arch, partaking of Shiisha(does it come in strawberry?) watching some classy Italian football. It sounds far more alluring by comparison. And this is if I ever bother to wed. The old red card is getting worn out.

7 of 9 thank you sis. U have me smiling at the thought too even though the old mouth still hurts. Ouch. ....... The neighbour who has invited me to the country needs my help. It will only take a few minutes. Sure I say, let me pray at the Mosque first. I'd been in bed between fajr and duhr unable to shake off the sickness, unable to wake up, unable period. I drifted in and out thinking: get up and cook, get up and cook but I would slip back into darkness over and over. Now that I'm up but weak, I feel the need to do something good that doesn't involve effort and can only think of praying Asr at the Mosque. 'I'll meet you at...', I look at the clock, how long will I be at the Mosque? Before I can finish the sentence, she says, 'Can I come with u to the Mosque? I want to see it'. Well. Yeah, sure u can. Let's go. She jumps out of her chair smiling. We enter the Mosque and she walks around. I pray 2 rakahs. I see her looking at a poster of surah Yassin. It won't make sense to her. I finish praying. She's a Buddhist and has never been in a Mosque, It's all new to her. We walk to the front. Suddenly she says, 'Is that your god?' Whoa! What! 'No, no, no god..where?'. She's pointing. 'That's a chair'. I'm flabbergasted. The chair? 'No, she says', 'That!' and this time I realise she's pointing at the wall. 'No, that's script'. She's pointing at a framed poster that says Allah and has the other names of Allah on it too. Me: That says God. Allah. Allah is God. She: Allah. Me: Yes, Allah. Me: the most important thing in Islam is that there is only one God and we have no idols or pictures to worship. There is only Allah. You will never find images anywhere. We don't know what God looks like. She: Oooh Me: That script is Arabic. I grab a copy of the Quran that is on the chair and open it. Me: See, all this is Arabic. Every Muslim everywhere in the world must learn the alphabet and read this. Her eyes widen. She: everywhere? Me: yes, everywhere She: u can read this? Me: yes She: it looks difficult Me: once u learn, it isn't She: can the people pray anywhere? Me: yes, except when we pray in a group, then we have a leader and we pray behind him. I point to some prayer mats. She: and if new people join in, where do they go? Me: they join in at the back and keep making lines backwards She: this place is nice Me: this is where I pray every night. I really like it. We leave. ........ At the beginning of Ramadan I had suggested to 3 people that they visit the Mosque after having a brief discussion about Ramadan and Islam. 2 out of those 3 people have now seen it. I'm so pleased. The third person was a man who said he wants to convert to Islam one day. He has never been in a Mosque but had many Muslim friends from Tanzania and Kenya and had learned what he knew of Islam from them. When he talked about Hajj, he shook his head in awe and said, 'Man all those people in one place!' He was also attracted to the cleanliness expected of Muslims. I suggested he catch the Tarawih and meet some of the men at the Mosque. The guy used to work in a shop close to the Mosque and would see me coming back and forth and say, 'Been to the Mosque, huh?' and smile. He'd asked about the daily routine of Ramadan and wanted to know what I ate too. I said I'd bring him some food one day and he'd said, 'Don't forget me, please'. I have now lost him. He had said he'd found another job but I didn't realise he'd leave so quickly. I passed by with his promised food one night, early Ramadan and he was no longer there. I'm disappointed. All that guy needs is a little more encouragement and he would be one of us, inshallah. I hope he made it to the Mosque and found someone who welcomed him and inspired him into our diin. I pray. Amiin. Life's cool.

Originally posted by sheherazade: Oh my Allah. I'm too sick(physically) to respond to this. When I said the above, I was referring to an actual illness that I was already suffering from before I read this- I was physically unable to type or concentrate and contribute. The comment had nothing to do with the hypotethical situtation presented. I can see how it was easily as seen as such though. Blame it on the high temperature. Once again the mention of the "f" word. Boring. I'm surprised by some of the reactions here. When it comes to the crunch, Somalis won't even accept their own people if they belong to a certain clan without a terrible fuss! How dainty the hypothetical responses are. It's bringing out the best in some. I'm not convinced. Just because he's been punished doesn't mean he's repented, does it? Perhaps all he regrets is that he got caught. Someone suggested the guy marry into a family that doesn't know about his violent past. Sorry bro. That's just unacceptable. What he has done is no small matter. Taking another life and raping! We're all at the mercy of Allah's final judgement, muderers or no but we can't make decisions like this based on the little information provided: if that was all I knew of a man's story, the initial advice to anyone would be a very clear no but I would want to know more. As Muslims we have to work with what facts we know (assuming he has admitted to the crimes) and the little that is presented here is not doing the guy any favours. The men are always responding to questions directed at the women, what's the big deal?

Oh my Allah. I'm too sick(physically) to respond to this.

The job's mine now. Looking forward to the challenge, alhamdullilah. I hope there's kheyr in it for me. My food giving efforts have been hampered by a very painful awkward wisdom tooth- I can't swallow, my left cheek is swollen, my gums are sore and the area around the tooth has festered. I also have a cold virus which has me feverish and has turned my throat sore and swollen. It could make a grown woman cry. Today: Iftar: a dot of food, 1 litre of water, 500mg Amoxycillin. Dinner: rice, force-fed through aching mouth, 1/2 litre water, 2*500mg Paracetemol. Midnight Snack: 500mg Amoxycillin Suxuur: 2*500mg Paracetemol and whatever fits through my jaw and is below the pain threshold that time of morning. But I'm happy. Alhamdullilah. I'm going to celebrate by cooking and sharing as soon as I'm a little better- my body has a right over me too and it's screaming for attention. Keep giving. U never know if u'll be well enough or alive tomorrow.

Friday 9:30 am, inshallah, I have a meeting with a woman with a name that could be pronounced in more than one way(which version to pick!). I feel nothing other than curiosity and hope of course. No negative voices or apprehension. I'm taking it as it comes. I'm more concerned that she gets it done and over with in time for me to head for the Jumca prayers. We're getting a lot of Jumcas this Ramadan! I've picked up a cold virus and am not at my best- sweaty and less sharp. I'll let u know how it goes, inshallah.

Good husband ku ye. So relevant.

A good read. I read this once many months ago and could read it again and again. Thanks.

Fiance', thanks. It's not mine till it's mine, u know. I'm grateful that I've been made the offer at least- that alone gives me pleasure. It's great that you gave out food to the needy in your vicinity. Everybody understands the language of food. Baashi, taking food to the Mosque is a great thing. I can never get to the Mosque before Iftar(although it is walkable), deliver food and return home to break my fast. I've been put off having to do it, instead I've taken food that I cook with me on the way to Taraweeh, stopped at someone's home and delivered food. You have me thinking, only laziness has prevented me from delivering food to the Mosque. I've been taking food to a non-Muslim whom I know needs it rather than offering it as someone's Iftar at the Mosque. Is one better than the other? I've swayed one way. God knows. Should I crank it up and do both? Now that my health has improved and there's only a few days left, it seems like a good plan. I think I've just talked myself into it. LOL. ...... Only minutes after reading that email and creating this thread, a woman I don't know but with whom I always exchange smiles and greetings said, 'Here this is for you' and hands me fruit. Wow, I feel like I have unleashed a food-giving chain reaction into the neighbourhood and like I am receiving signs of encouragement from God to keep giving- 2 food offerings in one day! Too cute. We said our goodbyes, I walked away but stopped to look back at her, the moment was too sweet to let go of. She was still smiling to herself. Bye!! I said one more time. Her smile deepened. Bye!! she said. And I walked home with Suxuur. One of these days, inshallah, she's going to get some good old-fashioned Somali food delivered to her door.

^^^I don't care either. I get lost in the sound.

I am heading home when I stop to say a few words to a neighbour. The few words turn into a long talk. I need to get home and fix something for Iftar but it is obvious she needs to talk so I stay and stay. At some point I sneak a look at the clock and a whole hour has passed. I start to make a move. I'm not too concerned, she has brought up one serious subject matter(amongst the others) and there was no way I could have left without feeling like a mean hag. At the door, I am rewarded for my patience. She invites me to her house in the country. U will never catch me saying no to something like that. No sirree. I thank her saying it would be nice. I try and think what I could possibly rustle up in the short time I have left before sunset. My mind draws a blank. Come on, think. Nope. Nada. I get to my door and the next door neighbour sees me. Yesterday, I'd bought some food and had shared some with her. She hadn't looked very comfortable as I'd given her the larger portion. Still she accepted it eventually. Now she returns from inside the house and in her hand she is carrying the plate I gave her the food in yesterday. On the plate is my answer- food. She hands it to me and I'm delighted. She has no idea she has answered my prayers and provided me with Iftar. I thank her. Joy, oh joy, oh joy. And so I wanted to recommend giving food. Lately, I've been making an extra effort to give food in.. Appreciation The Iman's wife teases me about the bottle of water I carry to the Mosque. Every time I sneak away to have a few sips, she catches me at it, laughs, points her finger at me and everybody looks my way! But I like her and love the Mosque and want to show some appreciation. I take her some food one day. She takes a deep smell of the food, smiles and thanks me. The teasing stops. Charity I won't talk about my charitable efforts lest they be depreciated in value but what have u done recently? How are your neighbours? Who are they, even? Anybody old and frail, handicapped or plain poor around your neck of the woods? Think, think, there's bound to be someone. Are you wasting food this Ramadan- throwing away excess? Why, when there's bound to be someone who could benefit from the food? Who'll say no to some rice and curry? Pack the left-overs and knock on someone's door. Go on. What about the homeless guy you pass by everyday? Oh, you're worried what he'll do with the money- he'll smoke it, shoot it, snort it, drink it, right? Well, maybe. Maybe he does, just like you know Jack at work smokes and shoots and snorts and drinks. You share your biscuits with Jack and make a cup of tea for him don't you? But who's more likely to be hungry? Not Jack. So don't fly past the homeless guy, give him your half-eaten crisp packet, the untouched left-over sandwich or that drink you haven't finished. If you have food waiting for you at home, why take more back with you? Give it to someone who'll appreciate it more. Ajr Take a whole load of dates with you to work or school if there are other Muslims there. Be the designated date person. Let them come to you for dates, better still offer it yourself. There is ajr in it. If your colleague has no one to cook for him/her back home and you do, why not bring some of last night's food along for him/her? More ajr. Cook extra on a Sunday(only one more left!) and take enough for all those of you at work/school(reasonable number). Let Afur be on you next Monday. Go on. Get cooking. Surprise I pass by a little boy sitting by himself and offer him a snack. I hold it out to him but he is hesitant. I move closer. Here, take it. Eat. He takes it and I look back to see him push his shoulders back in preparation for the feast. He descends. Kodak moment. I'm thoroughly enjoying sharing my food. I'm doing it consciously and now that I am, the opportunity to give presents itself constantly. It's like deciding to buy a Nissan(you Somali, you!) and seeing it everywhere you go from then on. Who knew there were so many Nissans on the road? Who knew there so many opportunities in which to share food with those outside my home? ......... I have just read an email from someone who yesterday talked about me to a lady who he says now wants to hire me. A job offer. Just like that. Things like that don't happen to me. I'd like to think it's because I've been giving that I'm now getting. I am totally shocked by the email, my jaw dropped and I read it over and over. Even he's excited for me and he's only met me once. The job he says has my name written all over it and the woman is excited about meeting me. Now, does it get any easier than that? What a fabulous Ramadan this has been. I owe it to all to Allah.

7 of 9, just sitting next to me would be a treat, whadyatalkinabout? Thanks all. More.. The 13 year old girl shakes her hand in pain and a ring flashes . A hang-nail, I wonder. A light-bulb appears above my head. Let me see. I can't really see what's causing her pain but that's not the point. She's wearing 2 rings; a ring kind of girl, it seems. I try and slip one off but it's too tight. No matter. The other one slips off easily enough. I try it on my little finger, it fits but no ring ever looks good there. I move it to my ring finger and it stops two-thirds of the way down. I know what to aim for now. Thank you, I say and slip it back on a finger different to the one I removed it from. It fits there too. I have all I need to know. She reminds me of the photo, says she likes what I'm wearing. I promise again. We pray. In other news.. There is another little girl at the Mosque whom I can't get through to. She's about 8, delicate, shy and fairy-like. She says hello shyly sometimes and runs off before I can squeeze her. Clever kid. Today I'm walking into the Mosque when I hear, 'Asalaaaaaamu Aleeeeeyykuuuumm' sail past me. I look behind me and to the right but it's too late, the voice is flying past me and is to my left. I look that way and it's the delicate girl! A man passing by stops and laughs with me. I greet her too. She's smiling widely, has a finger in her mouth and she twirls once. The crisps have had an effect. And that ladies and gentlemen is how u get a fairy to talk to you.

Raula, what's the book called?

I use 5 of those all the time and one another I hear from my father but I've never picked it up.

I'm sorry to bring the tone down but is there a prize? U can't have a Musaabaqa without a gold bar as one of the prizes, now can you? Hint, hint..

I'm glad you enjoyed it. Thanks one and all. I did what every self-respecting big sis should and brought the girl junk food! There are other kids there too so I ended up taking a plastic bag of crisps. When the prayers were complete, I dug in the bag and started giving the crisps out. There was momentary confusion. For us? I put a bag in one girl's hand and she stood there looking at the crisps. I gave her one more and asked her to give it to a boy who was too far away from me. She woke up from her trance and ran toward him with the crisps. From my right I hear a stampede of small bare feet heading my way. They have seen the crisps! 3 children come to an abrupt halt next to me, heels on fire. I laugh. I dig in and give more crisps out but two boys remain 'uncrisped'. Oh. No. I hadn't realised there were that many kids around. The two look at me with long faces. I don't like giving children money so I don't. Next time, I say, next time. But kids don't want to hear next time, they want to hear crisps crunching in their mouths here and now. Eid. Another promise. ..... Today I was looking at some knick-knacks at a stall and a ring caught my eye(not treasure-like). It's deep green, has flecks of gold and alternating crescents and stars. It's cheap, it's kitsch. I want it! I try it on but it doesn't fit on my ring finger. I move it to my little finger and it looks pathetic there. My little finger can't carry it off. It would suit someone with smaller hands I think. The little girl comes to mind- it would be a perfect Eid present for her. Then I think of the other girls, what about them and the boys? Now that I have the thought, I can't let it go. I will have to find something cheap and cheerful for the regulars at the Taraweeh and give it to them maybe on the 28th night. I can't wait until Eid day- too many kids, mashaAllah. ..... She follows me out of the Mosque, away from the eyes of the others and in the darkness hands me what looks like a book. A book? A book! A book. For me? Thank you. A book I tell you; the kind that has squares and squares and squares with Mickey and Mini Mouse rollerblading on the cover, all primary colours and big eyes. I stop by a neighbour's. Their 9 year old girl spots the book. She finds a pen and starts to write my name on the cover. U gotta love girls. I must fill the book with stories.

Sareeda, it has been interesting for me. Yesterday she told me that she has been judging me and is fighting it. Well, what's new? I'm not taking it personally. She can't get over how I pray at a certain time or keep myself hungry. She finds it regimental and thinks it robs man of will. We had another discussion. I have choice, I told her, to follow Islam or not to. No one is holding a gun to my head. She says she finds me intelligent i.e she can't work out how someone who comes across as intellignet would do what I do. I also sense she thinks I need saving as though from a cult. This is probably the first time she has come into contact properly with a Muslim. She's struggling with it but has told me she has decided not to judge me anymore. Maybe her heart will open up some more. She has taken me into her confidence probably because I do not judge her openly. She has told me that she has decided to dress modestly. That she is sure she needs to this and that she wants to dress more like me but not all the way. Good for her. She is obviously going through a spiritual cleansing. I can't imagine her telling the other people she knows that she has decided to dress modestly and has given up on many of her negative excesses. She finds comfort in telling me as she knows I won't scoff. It is interesting to be privy to another person's spiritual journey. Mostly we don't talk about it amongst ourselves but we should. It might help someone. Also, the more we talk about something to someone else, the clearer it becomes in our own minds.