Growing up, I so desperately wanted to celebrate Christmas. I always felt like I was missing out on the best holiday of the year.

In elementary school, I dragged my parents to my Christmas concerts at school. My class performed an annual holiday concert and I sang "Jingle Bell Rock", "Have A Holly Jolly Christmas" and other numbers.

Every year, I begged my parents for a Christmas tree. Instead, my mom redeemed us by decorating our fake palm tree with Christmas lights. It was no real Christmas tree. At least she tried...

I even put out cookies for Santa hoping that he'd come to my house. I truly believed in the "Miracle on 34th Street". I went as far as dialing a 976 Santa North Pole dial a message hotline ten times a day. I left many messages with my gift wish list. Like this one:
"Hello Santa, can you please get me a Cabbage Patch doll and a stroller?"
Click

Repeat this message 10x a day with some toy variation from a commercial I had seen earlier.

I never did receive my cabbage patch doll, stroller and all of the other toys from my wish list.
Unbeknownst to me, I was getting charged a hefty price tag for each call. By the end of the month, my parents got a $800 bill from the phone company. So many parents were slapped with the same bill that the phone company had no choice but to waive the charges.

"Santa" was naughty to so many of us. We all got duped.

But what I really wanted was a full blown Christmas experience, from going to church to celebrating evening Christmas mass to singing "Silent Night" to opening gifts around the tree.
One Christmas Eve, God answered my prayers. On that day, my poor sister had a terrible accident where she fell off the swings and broke several teeth. I never wished it on her, it just happened. She had to be rushed to the emergency room and I needed an emergency caretaker.

My Filipino Catholic neighbors- Bob, Flora and their two sons, Arti and Jamshed, were getting ready to head out for Christmas Eve mass. I knocked on their door and I became their adopted brown Muslim daughter for the night.

I sat with Bob and Flora on the pews in a massive dimly lit church. It was my first time being in a church and I was awestruck by the life size Jesus on the cross and the vastness of the room. I happily sang "Silent Night" and other Christmas carols with the other worshipers. I felt like I was in a Christmas movie special.

Bob and Flora were repeatedly asked questions about me like- "who was I, what was I doing there?" I stuck out like a sore thumb in the crowd. They rehashed the story to their friends.
We left mass and I went to Bob and Flora's house to continue the Christmas festivities. I was relieved that my parents and little sister weren't back from the ER yet.

At the house, I sat with the others around a real Christmas tree, ate Filipino food, sang songs and exchanged gifts. I even scored a Polly Pocket toy. One item off my Christmas wish list. I was the happiest kid in the room. Bob and Flora did better than the 976 hotline Santa.

I still remember that day like it was yesterday. My gracious neighbors made me feel so welcome and included. They answered my never ending questions throughout the night. I truly felt like I was a part of their family.

That night my wish was granted and I got my full Christmas experience. But on that unforgettable night, I got even more. I learned the meaning behind "Love thy neighbor as love thyself". I felt the spirit of Christmas.

Thank you Flora and Bob for teaching this Muslim girl the real essence of Christmas.

​And to all you, I wish you a happy and peaceful holiday season.

​I was picked up by the Uber driver.

I wasn't in a talking mood. But there was something so gentle about him, so spiritual. He asked me where I was visiting from. I told him SF.

Theo, my driver, was originally from Sierra Leonne. We talked about Africa and exchanged some stories. I asked him how he liked living in Phoenix. He talked about the brutal heat. And then he talked about the other stuff.

Like when passengers refuse to ride with him because they wanted someone who spoke "English" (Theo spoke better English than me) or the times when he was called a monkey. That hurt him the most.

I asked Theo how he handled the hurt. He said he was so close to lashing back but he just focused on doing his job...to make the interaction into a positive experience. And by the end of each interaction, the customers were in tears, asking him for forgiveness. He said if he lashed back, he'd continue the cycle and there would be no end.

I asked Theo if he's able to change hearts and minds. He told me about how in his day job at the bank, he made a friend of that customer who called him a monkey. He was able to get him to reconcile with his family who stopped talking to him years ago.

​Push me and I'll push you right back never works. Push me and I'll pick you up does.

An older gentleman wearing a military veteran's cap stood behind me in the checkout aisle.

I looked at him. And he looked at me.

He reached for his head and tipped his hat.

​I wished I could tip "mine" first.
#chivalry #service

​There is a profound tradition in the Islamic faith for when a person is laid to rest.
​
"It is recommended that the those near the grave put three handfuls of dust on it, saying with the first: 'From it did We create you' with the second: 'To it shall We return you' and with the third: 'And from it shall We bring you forth another time' [20:55] Quran
"Then dust should be very gradually and gently poured over him until the grave is filled and even..."

There is a spiritual bond with this earth, regardless of which faith you believe in.

I used to be so uncomfortable dining alone. I'd ask the waitress to seat me in a corner of the restaurant. I tried to look like I was a piece of furniture, so that I wouldn't be noticeable to others. Sometimes, I'd pull out a book and eat while reading. Or I'd get lost on my phone with aimless scrolling, while rushing a fork into my mouth. Each meal became an activity of mindless eating.

I've come to enjoy dining alone. I now ask to be seated at the communal table or counter. The more I do it, the more I learn about myself and others.

Here are the lessons I've learned:

1. I force myself to get out of my comfort zone. I initiate the conversation with the person next to me and it starts with a hello. The first hello leads into some of the best conversations about life and experiences.

2. The person next to me is feeling just as uncomfortable. She/he is feeling just as awkward. I've realized that you'll be the hero of the day if you break the ice first.

3. I get to share food and try different things on the menu. I'm building community through eating. I also ask for recommendations on what's good. The best part is that I savor my meal and enjoy every morsel.

4. I always get a spot in those impossible to reserve restaurants with 4000 plus Yelp reviews. There's always a spot available for 1.

5. I discover new things about myself and realize that I'm not so boring after all. When we're constantly surrounded by the familiar, we get into a rut. We become more judgmental and self critical. When you put yourself in a new surrounding with new people, you surprise yourself. That you still have the candle burning in you.

This all has taught me the important lesson of becoming more comfortable with being alone. 
While I cherish company, there will be times when I won't have any.

​In the end, if you can't enjoy your own company, then who will?

When I found out that my favorite author was coming to San Francisco for a lecture to promote her new book, I was thrilled. I read her first book 17 years ago and I've been her ardent fan since.  She is a class act. I looked up to her; I admired her outspoken courage and fierce boldness. 

Since she was a role model to me, I dreamt that I would get twenty minutes with her where I would have a conversation about her work for my podcast.  This event would be the perfect chance to make this ask.  I counted the days leading up to it.

On the day of the lecture, I forgot to bring my copy of her new book.  When I found out that she would be signing books afterwards, I got hopeful that I could get my golden opportunity and make the request.  So I decided that I would purchase another copy of her book.

The book sale was closed ten minutes before the lecture would begin.  I left the lecture 40 minutes early so that I could quickly buy a new copy of her book and be first in line to get her autograph.  I paced back and forth waiting for the lecture to end, even coming close to the auditorium door, attempting to eavesdrop at the rest of her talk.  All of the ushers knew why I was in line and they wished me luck.  I planned the whole conversation in my head and how I'd make the request. 

I was indeed first in line.  I was so excited, I had an adrenaline rush.  Everyone rushed out of the auditorium hurriedly so that they can get their spot.

I was nervous when she came in and took her seat at the table.  I mustered the courage, came up to her, told her that I was her biggest fan and that I would love to schedule twenty minutes with her for a conversation in my podcast.  I had my contact information in hand, just in case. 

She said, "No, it's not possible" and said "Next".  I felt like the wind just pushed me out of line.  And that was it. It was over.

That moment felt like a dream crashing into pieces.  I was so bummed.  Rejection feels yucky. Especially from someone you put on a pedestal. 

After some reflection, I understood a new lesson.  I was so focused on the end goal that I forgot to enjoy the moment and feel the joy of just being there in the same room as her.  I was so intent on being first in line that I missed half of the program. 

This experience taught me the importance of radical presence.  "Life isn't a matter of milestones but of moments".  It was a reminder to live in the moment fully and to enjoy the journey rather than focusing on the destination.

In the end, my favorite author still managed to teach me a valuable lesson.

I witnessed something so beautiful tonight.

Two Sikh Indians, two Muslim Pakistanis and one American broke down borders and connected hearts.  They showed the world in how we, as humans, are meant to live- to appreciate, celebrate and love each other.  To respect each other and to promote peace.

Borders are only lines, they can't divide hearts.

What an honor to hold our your hands and to give of yourself.

What a blessing to be accepted.

Each moment is a gift of giving and receiving.

#Alhumdolillah