You know there’s a special day marked on the calendar when the city of Ramallah is full of children and teenage boys selling flowers, the old florist making bouquets, and most people carrying a gift with them.
Indeed, a special day on the calendar looks as a day like this does.
Yesterday in the Middle East was mother’s day. I’m a firm believer that we don’t need certain days to celebrate certain people in our lives – that people should be celebrated everyday – but nonetheless, mother’s day was upon us.
As I was walking to class yesterday, I overheard three girls climbing the stairs ahead of me talking about their mothers. One was leading the conversation.
“She always has people over. Like give me a break!”
“I see,” said the other girl.
“So what did you do?” said another one.
“She makes me clean and do the dishes and make coffee…as if I don’t have important things to do! I’m like ‘Mama…”
By this point, they had already parted to a different direction, their voices fading.
I won’t lie and say I don’t occasionally say the same exact phrase the girl did. I do, but then I take it back. Just watching our parents – our mothers – and seeing what they do. It’s work we can’t even begin to think we can handle. Yet our mothers do it. They try to bring out the best of us because we are a part of them.
In Islam, a common phrase is that “Paradise is under the feet of mothers.” Prophet Muhammad (PBUH) even said, “Your mother. Your mother. Your mother. Your father,” putting the mother in such a high rank.
I don’t think it’s too bad to have a “mother’s day” or a “father’s day” or a whatever day. In the age we’re in, perhaps we need a reminder of the people in our lives. It sucks we need a single day on a calendar to remind us, but perhaps, for some of us, this one day can change our perspectives thus changing an aspect in our lives. Perhaps it allows us to remember to show great gratitude to whomever it is we’re celebrating.