Saud ibn Ishmael was an American Muslim. He was not born a Muslim, nor was his family or friends. To the contrary, he was brought up in the now expanded Bible Belt with the conservative values of any good American Christian. But something in his mind made a connection in his heart and made him accept Islam as his religious calling. Or so he tried to explain to his horrified family and friends when he was considering reciting the Shahada for the first time.
Yet, their understanding was no longer important, Saud ibn Ishmael had a new community. The surrendering of his will to the will of the Islamic god was more important than any consideration to family and friends. His new Islamic family comforted him in his new task to fully surrendering to and serving Allah.
And a good Muslim he was. He diligently practiced the pillars of his faith. He went to mosque daily, at night for he still had to work. In time that was not a problem since, his former work place fronded upon his ‘traditional Islamic clothing’. At least that was the slogan in the internet company where he brought his new cloths.
-You are representing the company- his boss told him as he requested that he must use a business suit to work. To which he prideful reply –I serve the will of god- just before he handed his notice. That show of faith garnered respect in the mosque and other Muslims gave him a new entry level job. That even qualified him for a good full blooded Muslim wife. Which he married almost immediately, and a good submissive Muslim wife she was.
But that was 10 years ago. Sporting a thick beard he continues to labor under a Muslim boss. Doing the same work under the same conditions and the same pay and benefits, going to mosque daily, all for the glory of Allah. Many would say that his life as a Muslim was dull. A constant repetition of prayer, work and family. No longer were there any adventures of big changes or achievements in his life. No big projects or important promotions or even big rewards. Those are for when you reach heaven. If he had lived the pious life a true devotee.
His life was a bit hard, especially in the financial aspect. His new job did not yield too much money and most his lifelong savings were long gone. Even his former Christian family cut him off from the inheritance his grandfather left when he died. Why should they give any resources to someone that turns his back on them?
Still Saud would practice alms and paying his one fifth for the mosque or some charity, there were not much left to save. He had now two daughters and a sickly son. They were in Muslim school learning what children of proper Muslim should learn. That education was draining the family’s resources because the overhead costs of education. Thankfully the Muslim community was helping him on the medical treatment, not expenses, of his son.
After everything was covered in his house hold it took him ten years to save enough to perform the Hajj. This brought him some grief at his home. He only had enough money for himself. –You are selfish Saud! Angrily but still in poised said his wife.
-The prophet commands it- he coldly replied
-But you will be almost for two month outside the country
-The prophet commands it- he coldly replied
-What will I do… who will earn your wages?
He was silent
- When will I go?
He remained silent.
The day he left for the pilgrimage the house was empty. His wife had left early to take the girls to school and the boy to his treatment. He gently closed the door after performing a blessing prayer.
Saud Hajj had begun.
What made Saud travel to the holy city of Mecca so long and hard was that he could only afford really cheat tickets. Some parts of the trek would require ground transportation. He would fly from the US to the UK there take a ferry to Spain. Busses would transport him to Granada and boats to the Kingdom of Morocco. Then a combination of trains, boats, cars and foot would make the majority of his travel.
He felt like ibn Battuta. All in all he would be almost three weeks of travel each way.
He was filled with a sense of accomplishment when he arrived to Mecca. The first time he beheld the Kabah he weep. But he will not be able to accomplish his Hajj. As he stood in Mount Arafat he saw something that was no seen in hundreds of years.
The terror in his eyes would have brought the Prophet back to life. For only the Prophet might be able to comfort him. For what he was beholding could only be a modern reenactment of the Prophet’s military invasion of the now Islamic City of Mecca.
As the tears run down his cheeks an army clad in white with the Red Greek cross approached the Holy city of Mecca…
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