I keep track of the story of my life through two things: Ramadan, and another global recurring event that I prefer not to disclose here out of embarrassment. I have a weak memory and often forget important occasions, to which my wife and mother can both attest. The recollection I have of my childhood and early years is quite limited, and it does not seem to get any better as I move along. However, I know where I was and what I did every Ramadan since 1994. I often recall events and important incidents by thinking about the two Ramadan months between which it occurred. It may sound funny, or even silly, but for some reason this is how I remember things. Spending the first few Ramadans -that I can remember- in the city of the prophet - peace be upon him- and in Makkah, I learned to love the month, absolutely love it. We would pray taraweeh either in the masjid of the prophet (المسجد النبوي) or in Quba’ masjid (مسجد قباء) behind Sheikh Alhuthaify or Sheikh Mohammad Ayoub during our years in Medinah, and in masjid al-Haram (المسجد الحرام) behind Sheikh AlSudays or Sh AlShureim when we lived in Makkah. Those continue to be my favourite memories. I hope they are what I am left with in my later years.
The first time I led taraweeh was in December of 1999, at our village home in Kafr-Hawar, Syria, with my extended family. I was 14 years old. I started out my first rak’ah of taraweh by forgetting to read Surat Al-fatihah, but my father was patient, as were the other members of my family, and the rest is now history. By watching my teachers and scholars, I learned what it meant to dedicate yourself to Allah during the month. It was like they stamped themselves with that “Waqf-وقف” stamp you find on donated Qurans. I envied the bliss and ease I could sense they felt, despite their long hours and packed schedules.
In October 2003, the old masjid of our village, which was built in the early 1900s, needed an Imam. The great Imam, Ibrahim Al-Ghalayeeni from Qatana, sent his students to educate the people of the west Damascus suburbs, a population that had lost its religion and literacy through decades of persecution and colonization. Amongst his students was the great scholar, Sheikh Muhyideen Al-Qadiry, who came to our village, initiated the building of this masjid and taught in it for a number of years before he left to the village of Qar’oun (قرعون) in Lebanon where he did the same. May Allah have mercy on him, he did not leave our village until he had prepared a scholar from his students to run the masjid, Sheikh Abdullah Haleemah. He is the father and teacher of my teacher, Sh. Yaseen Haleemah, may Allah preserve him, who ran the masjid after his father. The masjid was built by the elders. My grandfather participated in building it as a child, and later memorized the Quran in it at the hands of Sheikh Muhyideen before he left.
However, in the year 2000, a new and bigger masjid was built in the center of the village, and it became the main masjid. An imam was appointed to run it, and the old masjid was forgotten. So, in October of 2003 the old masjid needed an imam to run the Ramadan program. The choice landed on an ignorant and vain 18-year-old boy to fulfill the role. I stayed imam of that blessed little Masjid for 10 Ramadans. It is there where I learned most of what I know today. I tear up every time I think about it, and I have even had to take multiple breaks while trying to write this piece. The people who prayed there were all over 80, the elders of the village who once upon a time helped build it and grew up in it. To them, I was my grandfather’s son and Sh. Yaseen’s student; most of them did not know my father, and because they loved my grandfather and my teacher who assigned me the task, they supported me. They put up with all my mistakes, bad manners, scattered speeches, and high-pitched voice. It was their patience and grandfather-like love that nurtured my spirit and allowed me to grow. Our masjid was a funny sight. There was me, twenty five men over 80 years old, and then one hundred kids, under 15. Nothing in between. The old men loved seeing the place filled with their great grandchildren and were patient with our lack of holy-space etiquette. Every year there was one less of them standing in line. Before I left in 2013, I buried the last of them. May Allah have mercy on them all and reward them for what they did for us.
From that year on, I became known for Ramadan, and my identity was forever connected to the blessed month; an honour I am grateful for. My teachers taught me how to plan out the month, run taraweeh, and fill in all available times with Quran teaching and lecture series to take advantage of every moment and enjoy it at the same time. For ten years, we ran a Ramadan program that brought youth from all over the region. After a decade, there are people who still message me whenever Ramadan comes around, reminiscing about the good old days. Since I left Syria in 2013, I have prayed two Ramadans at home with my family, 4 at LMM, 2 with the MAC centers, and 4 at Wellness. Through the will of Allah, a fifth Ramadan is upon us.
It is in Ramadan that I witnessed my own transformation and change, and that of others as well. The relationships we build in the month are special, and the memories can last a lifetime. As Allah opens the gates of heaven, closes the gates of hellfire, removes those who distract us, and calls upon us to return to him, something in the world changes. If you know what I am talking about, then you know, and if you have not experienced this yet, I ask Allah that you do this year. It is the closest thing I can think of to magic.
Make this year’s Ramadan a special one. Dedicate yourself to mending that which is between you and Allah. Repent and return to Him; open your heart to Allah as he opens the doors of paradise to you. I cannot guarantee that this month will fix you, but it will get you started on a path that will begin your healing process. It will leave you with memories and relationships that you will cherish for life. Ramadan will give you as much as you are willing to give it.
Ramadan is the time for great things to happen, meaningful changes to occur, and critical decisions to be made. The Prophet’s first battle, Badr, was in Ramadan, and the final triumph of reclaiming Makkah, was also in Ramadan. Make the intention and plan for this year to be different, for it to be the Ramadan that will change your life and put you back on the right path. I do that every year, and it still works. May Allah grant us the blessing of reaching Ramadan, the ability to please Him throughout the holy month, and for it to be our defining moment in this life, Ameen. I look forward to sharing this Ramadan -in sha Allah- with you all soon.