Eid

The young lady across from me on the bus carefully held her henna-painted hand, allowing it to dry without smearing. I admired the intricate design in shades of brown on the back of her fingers and hand. “Is it Eid?” I asked.

“Yes, tomorrow.” I knew it was, but I wanted to acknowledge the young lady who was obviously proud of the design.

“It’s beautiful, ” I said. It really was an amazing work of art. Her eyes twinkled with anticipation for the upcoming festivities.

In last month, Muslim people have fasted from sunup to sundown. Today ends the time of worship, charity,  and self-reflection in Islam called Ramadan. Hundreds of Muslim men dressed in traditional cloth and holding prayer rugs filed from the basketball court as we passed this morning on the way to the subway station and church.

“You can come. My wife is cooking. There will be lots of people,” my Muslim coworker offered yesterday. He invited us to Eid, the festival of the breaking of the fast. It calls for new clothes and if you’re a pretty young lady, you might want your hands made beautiful with henna art.

Little India was relatively quiet this afternoon, the outfits bought, jewelry purchased, and the groceries sold to make the biryani, kebabs, curries, and sweets. We did see Muslim families, dressed in their best, gathering to celebrate.

I am a Christian. I try to understand and relate to the people about me. I pray that they might know Jesus. There is salvation in no other name (Acts 4:2).

Berniece