“And among His signs is that
He created for you mates from among yourselves
That you may dwell in tranquility with them
And He placed between you affection and mercy.
Indeed, in that are signs for people who reflect.”
—Qur’an (Ar-Room, 30:21)
On the afternoon of the third of October, Sarah sat opposite Kate on the swing on the back porch, Kate rocking it back and forth with one foot, the other folded next to her as she faced her older sister. Sarah sat with her arms folded across her chest, and her feet crossed at the ankle, facing the yard, trying to find comfort in the trees and grass, the untended garden, the coloring leaves. Anything but the world beyond the horizon. Anything other than what she refused to think about—the only thing her mind couldn’t forget. It was Kate’s idea of quality time. No wristwatches. No clocks. So that Sarah had no excuse to check the time, she had prayed Asr and Thuhr before coming outside.
“It’s a beautiful day,” Kate said with a sigh.
“No it isn’t,” Sarah said with a frown, glancing at the clustering of thick clouds in the sky. “It looks like it’s going to rain.”
“But it’s still beautiful.” Kate raised her face to the sky. “They look like bunches of cotton.”
Sarah shrugged. “Clouds always look like cotton.”
“Remember when we used to pull the cotton from our pillows to make dolls?”
She didn’t speak, her eyes narrowing as her mind grew distant.
“Mom used to get so upset with us.” Kate laughed. “Especially since we already had dolls. She said only poor girls make dolls.”
Kate turned to Sarah. “You remember that?”
“Barely.”
She sighed, shaking her head, a reflective grin on her face. “I remember it like it was yesterday.”
There was a long silence.
“Isn’t it strange?”
When Kate didn’t continue, Sarah drew in a deep breath and exhaled impatiently. “Isn’t what strange?”
“How we’re so grown up now?”
Sarah lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Not really. You can’t stay young forever.”
“I know. But I think it’s strange. I don’t feel like I’m forty-eight.” Kate paused. “Do you feel like you’re fifty?”
Sarah turned to Kate, trying to keep herself from glaring. Her age was the last thing she wanted to think about right then. “Yes.”
Kate laughed. “You do not.”
“Why is that so funny?”
“Because you’re acting like you’re two.”
Sarah turned from her sister and rolled her eyes.
“C’mon, Sarah. You know it’s true.”
“I don’t know anything anymore.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“No, you know it is true. After all, it’s why I’m here. Isn’t it?” Sarah met Kate’s eyes, accusing.
Kate smiled, shaking her head as she looked at her sister. “You’re not going to let it go, are you?”
Sarah narrowed her eyes and returned her gaze to the backyard. “I don’t have anything to let go of.”
“You can start with your pride.”
This time Sarah glared at Kate for a long time. Kate laughed and threw up her hands. “Hey, I’m just trying to help.”
“I’ve had enough of your help. Thank you very much.” Sarah’s nose flared as she turned away from her sister.
“The women’s shelter was necessary,” Kate said defensively.
“Like spreading my personal business?”
“I didn’t spread your business, Sarah. I shared it.”
“Same difference.”
Kate laughed. “Do you really think Nattie, Lorrie, and Toni give a care about your husband taking another wife?”
“Don’t trivialize this, Kate. You don’t have that right.”
“Well, somebody has to.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sarah said, staring at her sister with a look of disgust.
“It means it’s time you took a different perspective.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing this whole time?”
“Having a tantrum.”
Sarah shook her head, turning away from Kate.
“Admit it, Sarah. That’s all you’re doing. You haven’t even had one good laugh while you were here.”
“Tell me something funny, and I’ll laugh.”
“You.”
“What?” She looked at Kate with narrowed eyes.
“You.”
“Kate, just shut up. Okay?”
“I’m serious. You are funny.”
Fuming, Sarah said nothing, returning her narrowed eyes to the landscape in front of her.
“Look at me, I’m laughing.”
“Yes, I saw that.”
“But you’re not.”
“Tell me something I don’t know.”
“That that’s funny.”
Sarah lifted her eyebrows and shook her head impatiently. “What?”
“I’m laughing and you’re not.” Kate laughed.
“I don’t get the joke.”
“Don’t you think it should be the other way around?”
“Not really,” Sarah said sarcastically. “You’re not the one whose husband is off throwing away over twenty-six years to marry someone else—as we speak.”
Kate chuckled as she rocked the bench. “Now, that is funny.”
“Why’s that funny?” Sarah said, her voice void of energy or patience.
Kate was silent momentarily before she met her sister’s gaze. “Because I’m not the one who’s had a husband at all.”
Sarah felt bad suddenly, realizing her mistake. But she couldn’t dwell on it. After all, she had reason to be upset. Kate should understand that.
“I’m sorry, Kate. I’m just distracted right now.”
“I know. I know.” Kate nodded, pursing her lips. “And I am too.”
“Why?” Sarah said sincerely.
“Because I really do find it funny how everything happened.”
“How what’s happened?”
“Everything.”
“Like what?”
“Me. You. Everybody.”
Sarah was silent, listening.
“You know,” Kate said squinting her eyes in deep thought, “at first I was really upset how everything turned out. With the Syrian I was telling you about. But now I’m beginning to understand that prayer you told me to say.”
“Istikhaarah?”
“Is that what it’s called? The one in the little book I borrowed last year?”
“Yes.”
“Well, yeah. That’s it.”
Sarah studied her sister’s face intently, noticing for the first time the sorrow and pain in her eyes. Kate was battling a lot herself, and Sarah had been too absorbed in self-pity to notice.
“The part where you ask God to remove it from you if it’s bad for you and then you say, ‘And make me satisfied with that.’”
Sarah nodded.
“I kept thinking about that part for a long time. I could see how God could take it away from me if it’s bad.” Kate laughed. “That’s what I was afraid of. But,” she said with a shake of the head, “I didn’t get how I could be satisfied with that, you know, with how much I wanted it.”
Kate chuckled. “But you know what?”
“What?”
“That’s the sign you were telling me about.”
“What sign?”
“That God would give to show me what to do.”
Sarah furrowed her brows, confused.
“Being satisfied with it,” Kate said with a smile. “And I am.” She shrugged. “I’m not happy about it. But I’m content that we weren’t meant for each other.”
Sarah’s eyebrows rose and she smiled weakly, remembering how Kate was willing to do anything to make the marriage happen. “Now, that is a sign.”
“Yeah, I know.”
They were silent.
“And you, too,” Kate said.
“Me?”
“Yes. How it was a sign for me with you.”
Sarah shook her head. “With me?”
“I never said it,” Kate said, “but I asked God to forgive me for, you know, everything our family did after you became Muslim. And I asked Him to bring us together and make us sisters and friends again.”
Sarah’s eyes widened. “You did?”
“Yes.” Kate laughed. “And He did it all at once.”
“Did what all at once?”
“Gave me the sign and brought us together.”
Sarah nodded, reflecting on what her sister had said.
“You know, if I didn’t go through that, I couldn’t help you right now. You realize that?”
She looked at Kate, a smile tugging at her mouth. “No, I didn’t realize that.”
“If I didn’t meet him, I’d never have understood that kind of marriage, you know?”
Sarah nodded.
“Seeing you go through all this, I’m like, thank God it didn’t work. I can’t imagine a woman hurting like you are right now, especially me being the cause of it.”
Sarah smiled and looked distantly at the yard, appreciating her sister more than she ever had.
“But I have to admit,” Kate said, “I don’t feel too bad.”
Sarah grinned. “Really?”
“Yeah, really.” Kate shrugged. “Because I know I was doing the right thing.” She laughed then added, “For once.”
Sarah couldn’t argue with that.
“But you know what?”
She smiled unexpectedly. “What?”
“And I understand the most important reason God gave me the sign He did.”
“You mean being satisfied with how it turned out?”
“Yes.”
“What’s that?”
“If I didn’t see my sign, I wouldn’t recognize yours.”
Sarah’s brows furrowed. “Mine?”
“Your sign.”
“What sign?”
“You prayed that same prayer, right, before deciding on divorce?”
Sarah laughed. “A zillion times.”
“Then you have your sign.”
A grin trailed on Sarah’s face as she looked at her sister with eyes squinted in puzzlement. “What sign?”
“You’re not satisfied. So you need to go back.”
That night, Sarah couldn’t sleep. The king-size bed on which she slept felt too big, too suffocating tonight. She had taken some of Kate’s sleep aid, prescription sleep aid, and still, her eyes wouldn’t remain shut. Her eyes burned with the desire, the need, to rest. But she couldn’t. Her body wouldn’t let her.
Or perhaps it was her mind.
She thought of Ismael being officially married to Alika, and she found herself engulfed in despair. And panic. She pulled the covers over her head, cursing herself for even caring. Why should she? She was finished with him. Two more months, and that was it.
An image of Kate smiling at her on the swing flashed in her mind as she told Sarah of her so-called “sign.”
“You’re not satisfied. So you need to go back.”
Sarah turned on her other side, forcing her eyes shut until they hurt. And still, the whisper of Kate’s words were in her mind. And the realization settled in her heart.
Kate was right.
Sarah thought of Alika again, and she threw the blanket from herself and sat up, her energy leaving her in that motion. And humility and helplessness taking its place. Her shoulders slouched, and she hung her head.
Defeated.
Beaten by her own guilt. And faith.
Slowly, she turned her body until her feet felt the soft of the carpet. A second later, she sighed and stood, dragging herself to the bathroom, knowing what she had to do. Needed to do. If she were to survive this night. If she were to survive the rest of her life.
In the bathroom, the cool water of wudhoo’ calmed her anger. Though she knew little could be done about the deadweight of sadness in her chest. It would be a fact of life from then on. A silent truth, an undercurrent in her new life.
She wished Kate had not seen the sign. Then she could ignore it. Pretend it wasn’t there.
But even as she thought this, Sarah knew Allah would have returned her home anyway. Her family needed her. Aminah. Sulayman.
And Ismael.
She needed herself too. She simply wasn’t herself as long as she remained a self-appointed refugee in Kate’s home.
Sunday. Kate had confirmed a ticket home for her the day after tomorrow. Two days after she was officially a co-wife.
Ugh. The very thought was depressing.
But Sarah submitted. Had long since submitted that it would be a reality of her life. Even as her mind refused to accept she had.
No, polygamy was not her preference. But, she realized, neither was avoiding it her choice. She had thought it was. She imagined that she could say what she did or did not want. And, technically, she could. But that didn’t mean she could decree anything in that regard.
Allah decreed and none could decree over Him.
Who was she to question the decree of Allah?
She had fought this for years, had loathed the very thought. At that moment, she felt ashamed. And she should feel ashamed, she reflected as she completed her ablution. Because it was indeed a shame how she thought herself better, deserving of better, than being “divided in half.”
Who did she think she was?
In reality, she was but an impoverished, destitute slave of Allah. If she had known who she was truly, she would have been so grateful to have even been graced with Islam at all. So grateful that it would not matter what her husband did, or did not do. So grateful that she would be willing to eat crumbs from the hands of peasants if it meant the preservation of her soul. Her faith.
“I do not care in which situation I wake,” the famous companion ‘Umar Ibn al-Khattab had said. “For I do not know what is good for me.”
What of Sarah, who could not hope for the wisdom and faith of the one of whom Satan himself was afraid? Oh, how she did not want this to be good for her! She was repulsed at the very idea.
Yet, like a whisper, she was reminded of the Words of her Lord. It may be that you dislike a thing which is good for you, and that you like a thing which is bad for you. And Allah knows while you do not know.
Sarah felt humbled and humiliated at once.
She dragged her feet to the bedroom, arms and face wet in wudhoo’, knowing already it would be a long night, the longest night of her life. But she would spend it in prayer. Otherwise, she feared for herself. And her dreams.
It was as if she could feel Satan flowing through her veins as her emotions swung like a pendulum in a windstorm.
As she dressed in her prayer garment, she recalled her arrogance. Her insecurity. Her cruelty. And her heart fell in regret.
She had avoided Nusaybah, barred her from her home, and life. Unless she needed her ends clipped or could use a make-up artist for an event. All because Nusaybah had done what the Mothers of Believers had centuries ago.
Already the tears were forming before her hands were raised above her shoulders in submission, in surrender. To her Lord.
Oh, how she had avoided polygamy like a plague, had kept the mention of it from her home. Had treated it like a sin.
And now, she had the same disease.
Dr. Faith had made that clear to her.
Sarah had trusted Faith, as a counselor. A friend. Never had she imagined Faith would become a grim reflection of the ignorance, the heartlessness of her own face.
Would Aminah suffer for the sins of her mother? Would Aminah lose out on the happiest moment in her life because Sarah had sent forth an evil deed, only to have it come back at her?
The earth was created round, she once heard, so anything you throw out comes back to you.
As she recited, she was struck by the implications of that reality. For when you stand on the round earth and throw something, it comes back. And strikes you in the back.
Sarah praised Allah, regret suffocating her, knowing then what her supplication in her sajdah would be. Though a month, or even a day, before, she would never have dreamed she would ask Allah to open her heart to polygamy. To make her love it. Embrace it. And…
Join her and Alika’s hearts as sisters loving each other for His sake.
She cried, begging Allah’s forgiveness, hoping He would not decree Aminah suffer for her sin. Or make Ismael’s heart turn away from her on account of it.
Oh, how ungrateful she was! How ungrateful was the human soul. How true were Allah’s Words when He spoke of human’s ungratefulness in His Book.
Cursed is man! How ungrateful he is!
From what did He create him?
From a sperm-drop He created him and set him in due proportion
Then He made the Path easy for him
Then He causes him to die, and places him in his grave.
Then when He wills, He will resurrect him
Nay, but man has not done what He commanded him
Who had Sarah been when Allah chose her? When he had simply turned her heart to Islam?
She had been, even in human estimation, of the most ignorant and astray of creation. She had seen in color distinction and distinction in Whiteness. Each Sunday she had worshipped an image of her own face, never questioning her resemblance to her god. She had looked down her nose at blackness and Black people, never questioning her superiority and her ancestors’ right to enslave them. She counted the meager crumbs her people threw from their table as favors to them, even as the superior race had not even inferior sense. The sense to realize that God bestowed favors and granted rights. And it was a sin to withhold or deny them to others.
Then one day, she woke and decided she had no Creator. And had, in essence, designated herself in his place. She decided good and bad, right and wrong. And continued to look down her nose, thinking herself superior.
Where would she be now if He had left her on the path she had chosen? What would she do if He hadn’t graced her with Islam? Hadn’t brought Ishmael Morgan into her life?
It was a simple question. “Do you believe in God?”
She had no humility then. No sense. None to realize the power of God even in the gathering itself. It was Ismael who taught her. Held her hand. And she remembered thinking she could never show her gratefulness to God for him.
Oh, how her arrogance plagued her still. Her conceit. She still looked down her nose, not at color, but circumstance. Hadn’t she counted herself as better? Better because her husband was married to only her? An honor, a distinction. And those below, the likes of Nusaybah, had to be kept at a distance or else they disrupt her due.
What now, would be her case in this world, in the Hereafter, if the Turner of Hearts would turn her heart away from Him? Where would her honor be then? Her distinction? And what would be her worth?
She would be neither whole nor divided. She would be nothing at all.
O You Who turns hearts, make my heart firm upon Your religion! Make me amongst Your grateful slaves. Make me amongst Your grateful slaves. O Allah, I beg you, I ask you, I plead
O Allah, Ash-Shakoor! Make me amongst your grateful slaves.
Preserve me, O Allah. Preserve my husband. Preserve Sulayman. Preserve Aminah. And, O Allah, Most Merciful,
the Most Kind, Hearer of all prayers, Knower of the hearts, preserve Alika. Let not the actions of people discourage her.
Let not the sins of my hands turn her away from You!
For she turned to You, accepted Your religion, submitted to You. Forgive her. Forgive her, O Most-Forgiving! Forgive her husband, our husband! Forgive me. And join all our hearts in love and mercy for Your sake. Bless for us our family, and make us righteous servants, and pardon us as You have pardoned those before us.
And remove from me, from her, from us all, anything that will keep us from being under Your shade. For on that Day, O Allah, there will be no shade but Yours. And join us—me, Aminah, Sulayman, and Ismael. And Alika. Join us in Jannah Fir-Daws to dwell as a family forever, rejoicing in the pleasure of seeing Your Face.
And O Allah, O You Who guides, I implore you,
I beg You, for You hear and accept prayers,
Guide my sister Kate to Islam.
Sarah woke from her nap after Fajr, which was really her night’s rest, when it was just past noon. She walked downstairs to eat breakfast and saw her luggage by the door. She creased her forehead, placing her hands on her hips. She wasn’t leaving until tomorrow.
“I figured you’d want to pack early,” Kate said, walking into the foyer just then, folding her arms. “We have a busy day.”
“I appreciate it,” Sarah said, shaking her head and feeling bad that her sister had gone through the trouble. “But I could’ve done it myself.”
“I know,” Kate said with a wave of her hand. “But hey, today’s your pamper day, and how can you pamper yourself if you’re packing bags?”
“I can do it when we get home.”
“Actually,” she said, “we’re not going anywhere.”
Sarah creased her forehead in confusion. “I thought…”
“Why not stay home and pamper yourself? Otherwise you’ll wash it all off before we leave the salon.”
She laughed. “I see your point.”
“Well, we’ll get started around five, so let’s eat.”
At seven o’clock that evening Sarah looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror in Kate’s dressing room and saw that playing “dress up” today had paid off. Kate had bought her a black spaghetti strap dress, something Sarah hadn’t worn in years. And the facial and make-up job made her look ten years younger, at least that’s what she wanted to believe as she smiled at herself. She wore Kate’s diamond stud earrings and white gold necklace with a diamond pendant.
“Wow, Sarah,” Kate said looking at her, still wearing a loose long sleeved shirt and a pair of baggy jeans. “You really look stunning.” She sighed and shook her head. “You mind if I take a picture?”
Sarah stared at her as if she had lost her mind. “Of course I mind. Now, get dressed so we can have dinner.”
“I just don’t want to lose this moment. It’s been years since I’ve seen you like this.”
“Oh, please,” she said with a grin. “You can take a picture in your mind.”
“Problem is, that kind doesn’t develop so well.”
“Well, the answer is no.” Sarah sighed as she stared at her sister, smiling.
“Thanks so much for having me,” Sarah said.
Kate waved her hand. “It was fun.”
Sarah laughed. “Yeah right.”
“It was.”
“Can you please go get dressed before it’s tomorrow already, and we miss our dinner together?”
Kate laughed. “Looks like somebody’s hungry.”
“Well, you would be too if you’ve starved yourself like I have.”
“Yeah, I suppose. But then I wouldn’t be too antsy because I’d get to look like you do in that dress.”
Sarah laughed. “Miss Keeping Fit, thanks. But I know I have a long way to go before I deserve a compliment like that.”
“You’re too hard on yourself, you know that?”
“Can you hurry up, please?”
“The food isn’t even here. So what’s the rush?”
“What?” Sarah’s eyes widened. “You ordered out?”
Kate stared at her sister with her forehead creased. “You thought I would cook for you?” She laughed out loud, and Sarah felt her cheeks go warm.
“Sorry,” Sarah said, smiling from embarrassment. “I just assumed.”
“Trust me, you would be sorry if I did cook.”
“Well, as hungry as I am, I doubt it.”
Kate glanced at her wristwatch. “The delivery should’ve been here by now.” She bit her lower lip and shrugged. “I guess I can get dressed while we wait.” She looked at Sarah. “And you… Maybe you should stay upstairs until the delivery guy leaves.”
Sarah laughed. “You think?”
Kate grinned. “Well, don’t blame me for thinking a—”
The doorbell rang.
“Speak of the devil!” Kate turned, glancing at Sarah for a moment. “I guess I can’t ask you to answer that while I get dressed, huh?”
“Ha, ha, ha,” Sarah said. “I’ll stay up here—with the door closed until you come for me.”
Kate nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” She closed the dressing room door and disappeared into the hall.
Alone in the room, Sarah sighed. Looking at her reflection, she wished she hadn’t agreed to a “pamper day” as a way to cheer up. It was depressing. But she couldn’t tell Kate that. To Kate, clothes determined your mood, and she imagined that an elegant dress would lift Sarah’s spirits, or at least boost her self-esteem. But as an image of herself stared back at her, she was saddened. What did any of this mean if she couldn’t share it with Ismael? Why look beautiful if he couldn’t appreciate it?
Yes, she heard Kate’s mantra. Look beautiful for yourself. Blah, blah, blah. Whatever. Sarah supposed she should just go ahead and live alone for the rest of her life just to convince herself that Kate was right. Look beautiful for yourself. Sarah didn’t know how to do that. For twenty-six years she never had to. Ismael had always been smiling back at her and telling her, a look of wonderment in his eyes, “You look…amazing.” How was she supposed to forget all of that, sitting in a ballroom dress across from her sister?
Sarah shook her head, trying to gather the strength to put on an appreciative face before her little sister. Sarah couldn’t ruin tonight, not after her steady stream of depression, with no laughter. Kate deserved at least that much. She had to be a good sport.
Sarah lifted her gaze to her reflection and smiled, surprising herself with how easy, and therapeutic it was. She smiled again, this time turning her head the other way. MashaAllaah, she thought. I don’t look bad. She laughed, placing a hand on her hip, gaining confidence with that movement. Oh yeah, she could pretend tonight. And have fun doing it.
Kate knocked at the door.
“Come in!”
Sarah kept her hand poised on one hip, and she smiled at herself. “I don’t look bad,” she said with a playful grin. She turned to her sister, but a dozen roses grazed her nose instead. She stared at them in confusion.
“You didn’t have to,” she told Kate.
“I know, but I wanted to.”
Sarah’s eyes widened as the roses were lowered and she found herself looking into the eyes of her husband.
“Ismael?”
He smiled at her. “You’re right. You don’t look bad.” He paused as his eyes stared at her in wonderment. You look….amazing.”
She stared at him, still recovering from shock.
“How…?”
“Surprise!” Kate sang out, peeking her head into the door.
Sarah stared at the roses, at Kate, then at her husband. Then she felt her eyes fill with tears as she shook her head, locking her gaze with Ismael’s.
“Will you come back with me?”
Sarah started to speak but couldn’t. Instead, she nodded.
“Let me load the car,” Kate said.
“Will you come back to me?”
Tears slipped down Sarah’s cheeks and she nodded again. “Yes, I will.”
Ismael exhaled, pulling his wife into an embrace. A second later, she felt his shoulders tremble, and they were crying in each other’s arms.
“I love you, Sarah,” he moaned into her hair. “I was scared I’d lost you forever.”
“And I thought I lost you,” she said into his shirt.
“Please tell me you won’t leave me again.”
“I won’t,” she promised. “Allah help me, I won’t punish myself like that again.”