Maryam and the Long Day
Maryam was nine years old, and this Ramadan she was determined. “The whole day,” she announced at suhoor, eating her eggs bravely in the dark. “From Fajr to Maghrib. Just like Mama.”
Morning was easy. School was fine. But by afternoon, the day stretched out like a long, long road. Her stomach sang songs. Her mouth felt like a desert. And on the kitchen counter sat a bowl of soft, sweet dates — the dates for iftar — smelling of honey and sunshine.
“One tiny date,” whispered a voice in her head. “Nobody would know. Just one.” Maryam looked at the dates. Then she thought of why she was fasting at all: not for Mama, not for the neighbours — for Allah, who could see her even in an empty kitchen.
She filled a glass of water for her tired mother instead, and set the table beautifully. When the adhan finally sang out at sunset, Maryam’s first date tasted sweeter than every sweet she had ever eaten — because she had waited for it, for Allah’s sake.
Allah says in the Qur’an: “Indeed, Allah is with the patient.” (Surah al-Baqarah, 2:153)