Religion Reflects

My friend leans forward and whispers
"What will you hang upon your tree?"
And I knit my eyebrows and frown down
at my incomplete piece of classwork
concentrating on distributive property.
Then I turn to her with a smile
and remind her, "Christmas isn't for me."

I watch her as her eyes reflect
deep, questioning wonder
as she remembers.
I loved the way she loved to dream
and the way she awed over
our different religions.

Then suddenly she points down at my paper
on equation number twelve
and I watch as playful laughter
reflects within her eyes
"You got that one wrong," she grins.

I groan and change my answer
75 to 73. And think about
how much I hated arithmetic.
My friend smiles and says
"At least tomorrow's Saturday,"

After school, I pray Dhuhr,
followed by reading the Qur'an,
and finish up my homework from
My Middle School.
I spend some of my time reading and writing
and flipping through the pages of my dreams.

Saturday passes with phone calls from my friends
and on Sunday I step into the mosque,
into another world;
into my Islamic school.
I marvel at how different things are here
and how I live,

two different lives that blend into one.

On Monday there is school again.
With a sigh I slump into arithmetic
next to my friend.
She laughs at my dismay and says
"Cheer up! It's Monday!"

I look at her like she's crazy.
Doesn't Monday mean more homework?

Then I find out why
she is so happy it's Monday -
It's two more days 'til Christmas.
"I hope you have a wonderful time," I say to her,
and I really do,
because in last year's Eid and Ramadan
she had hoped the same for me.

Nahida Chowdhury, 13