The Rug

Elizabeth looked at the recently arrived package. It was an Islamic prayer rug. Yusuuf had one for his daily prayers. This was to be hers.

She took a sharp breath inward. She knew there were going to be cultural adjustments, this was the nature of dating a foreign man. And she knew the arrival of this item was a sign that Yusuuf wanted her to take it seriously. She took the package inside, placing it into the bedroom she shared with Yusuuf. She unfurled it. It was blue, with a silver pattern roughly in the shape of a mosque.

She sat down on the bed, playing with her hands. On her bedside table was the Quran, which Yusuuf gifted to her a month ago. He'd expected her to read it religiously. And she was trying, although religious study had always been beyond her.

She sighed, looking at the rug. What to say. How to say it. Finally, she went to the rug, kneeling on it and placing her head on the carpet, emptying her mind. Finally, she felt another presence. It was Emily, who liked to talk now.

"Mommy," she said perkily. Elizabeth chuckled, giving her oldest daughter a hug.

"Hey sweet pea. I thought you were napping," Elizabeth said uncomfortably. Emily looked at the rug. "It's a prayer rug. To pray."

"Pray?" Emily said. At this age, almost everything was confusing.

"To God ... well, Allah, who is our God," Elizabeth explained. She'd never said it like that, she realized.

"All - Ah?" Emily said.

"Yes. You'll understand one day. You just put your head down like this, and you just pray. For us. For Mommy and Daddy."

"Daddy!" Emily said happily. She loved Yusuuf.

"Yes." Elizabeth put her head down, and Emily did too. And this time the words did come.