Blessings

Grace

Author: Woman

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The first day of Ramadan arrived with a quiet dawn 🌅. The morning unfurled more beautifully when I received your GIFs 😌, the simple exchange was wrapped in the tenderness of thoughtfulness.

Work called 🤓, as it always does, but today it moved at a rhythm I could manage. A steady flow, not a flood and for that, I was truly grateful.

Even as the world 🌎 moved at its usual pace, there was a sense of ease, an unspoken grace in each task. Alhumdulillah, the day was not too heavy upon my shoulders though, in a twist of irony, the one day I chose to fast was the day I found myself with a leisurely, unhurried lunch.

But sustenance comes in many forms and today, my nourishment arrived not just in the promise of iftaar, but in you. Your mind, your heart, your brilliant creativity.

Each incredible idea 💡 made me smile, the secret heart gloves, the way they come together as we do, forming something whole such a tender and wonderful thought. And then, just when I thought I had seen the peak of your ingenuity, you unveiled the bubblegram trial frames. Amidst my hunger I read it as "bubblegum" 🫧 lol. But each detail, tickled me funny, down to the way you labelled "woman" as number one because a) she has to be priority right? and b) glad it was not 4 - no room for polygamy here ; just one heart, one love, a singular devotion 😂

Honestly your intelligence astounds me. How effortlessly you create, how naturally brilliance flows from you. It is a joy to witness.

These small moments, these tokens of your mind and heart give me an undeniable lift, a quiet happiness that lingers long after the moment has passed. ☺️

A day with even a whisper of you in it is becoming a better one.

And by the Lord's mighty grace, though fasting and work filled the hours, the day unfolded just right. I arrived home with fifteen minutes to spare, enough to bow in prayer, to weave together the threads of Zuhr and Asr, leaving me feeling content.

And then, the long-awaited moment of iftaar. A feast laid before me; two samosas, two spring rolls, salmon, golden roast potatoes, and the sweet flakiness of an apple turnover. Each bite, a reward. Each flavour, a gratitude. Alhumdulillah for the fullness of the stomach, but more so for the fullness of the heart.

Ramadan carries a love I can never quite put into words, yet I feel it in every moment. I feel compelled to share a snapshot.

There is a beauty in Ramadan that goes beyond the fast, beyond the iftaar table and food that break our hunger. It is in the togetherness, the suhoor highs.

Suhoor in our home is its own kind of magic, a blend of drowsy eyes, hurried bites, and uncontrollable laughter that somehow always manages to slip into the quiet hours before dawn.

And of course, it always ends the same way: with our parents shaking their heads, telling us off for making too much noise at such an ungodly hour. "Eat quickly, focus on your food, stop laughing so much you'll disturb the neighbours. What is wrong with you? You are meant to be grown ups!" they say, but their voices carry that familiar mix of sternness and affection. It is a rhythm we have perfected our mischief, their reminders, the shared understanding that this is just how suhoor always goes.

I never take it for granted, because time is fleeting, and I never truly know if next year will bring us all back to this same table, laughing, passing plates, filling our hands and hearts in the same way.

That thought lingers in the back of my mind, making each moment all the more precious. It is why I hold onto the little things in life.

Ramadan teaches me to appreciate what is here, right now, in front of me. It reminds me that while I long for the sweetness of past years, I must savour the present, for it, too, will one day be a memory. And so, I love Ramadan not just for its spiritual weight, not just for the way it resets my soul, but for the way it gathers us, even if only for a fleeting moment in time, around the same table, beneath the same sky, bound by something far greater than hunger.

And now, before the night settles fully, I write to you.

A pause before I turn the pages of the Qur'an and I stand in the stillness of night to pray Isha to feel fully complete. A quiet end to a day marked by blessings, by small joys, by the presence of you in the corners of my thoughts.

Subhanallah, Alhumdullilah, Allahu Akbar. 🤲🏻