Alhumdulillah, the finals are finally here! The wait must have been incredibly long for some, especially those who participated in the contest with their entries. We’ve been through five groups of semifinalists’, with voting done for each group to narrow it done for the finals. All voting for semifinalists is now closed.

Before we go on to the actual finalists, it’s important to let you know how much we valued each and every entry. It was humanly impossible to do justice to the beautiful poems mailed to us! Some were better than others in terms of creativity or the varied messages they carried… but really, all were heartwarming as they were about Ramadan, the best month of the year.

For the finals then, we’ve taken the top two most-voted poems from each semifinalists’ group through to the finals. Please note:

1. You’re now voting to decide the winner and two runners up (you have to cast just one vote though, to make that clear!)

2. Voting will be open for three days. Polls will close on 0000 hrs Pacific Standard Time on 8th September.

3. The winner and runners up will be announced on Eid day.

4. If you’ve missed reading the poems earlier or wish to recap, the finalists can be found below and also on their respective semifinalists’ pages here:  Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5

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A Journey to Ramadan
By: Simeitsa Stamoulas (Maryam Noor Stamoulas)

A Month of Mercy
is upon us.
And I remembered back
when I was young
about how I felt being able
to fast the whole month.
I thought, “How wonderful!
All the reward is in my grasp!”
I realized I should
plan for this blessed month.
So, I went in my room.
And I wrote a list.

I wrote,
I will pray my soul to rest.
I will fast with strength greater
than the one who wrestles men
down.
My remembrance will
only be of Allah.
And can’t forget the coming Eid
outfits…

I just kept on thinking how
I can just soak up this month
of reward.
And as I wrote, my father
entered my room.
“Oh Baba! I am preparing my
list for Ramadan. Come see
what I have written.”
My father examined every detail.
And when he looked up he smiled
then said, “Ya bunayyati (O my daughter),
these are all great things you have listed,
but I think you are missing something.”
I said, “Missing something? What do
you mean?”
He stopped for a while,
and asked me to come with him.

My father took my hand.
And we traveled into the city.
It is not something I experienced often.
And I observed the status of its condition.
I saw walks of life with no homes.
Children in rags that had seen better days
on some other child that had thrown them away.
I saw a dinner plate between a mother
and her four starve stricken children.
A plate only consisting of two
decomposed dates found
and split into four halves.

And then we stopped.
I looked at my father with tears saying,
“Where are we Baba?”
He held me close and wiped my trickles.
“Bunayatti, when I saw your list indeed I was
pleased, but Ramadan is not only
about you or I. It is about the people
around you who need you the most.
It is a second chance. It’s a reminder to mankind
that forgiveness is near.
It’s about self reflection, and unity.”

From then on I learned that Ramadan
was not about how many prayers I did.
The clothes I bought.
Or even the strength that
I had to fast.
It wasn’t what was sitting on the dinner
table, but who was sitting around it.
It was about us all gathering together
and crying out, “Ya Rabbana!
Your Mercy is as the river flows.
And Your Bounty has no limits!
Make this the month of great
treasures for them!”

It was the peace on their faces
after telling reciting the verse to them
“Verily, with every difficulty there is relief”(94:6).
It was Allah letting them know
He had never forgotten them
Nor had He left them not
even for a blink of an eye.

I say to you,
Ya ayyuhal Mu’minun(O you Believers)!
Don’t be missing something this Ramadan.

_______________________________________________________________

We are the Heirs

By: Mariam Arif

How beautiful the scent it brings,
A wave of calmness, an air of peace,
Our hearts are driven to the King of kings,
Our chances of paradise will increase.

It’s time to read His mighty words,
A single letter is ten times more,
I crave the prize, I reap rewards,
I need that heaven we all adore.

Refraining from food and drink is one,
To refrain from sin is greater still,
To teach us patience, to discipline,
Let’s see who has the greatest will.

And don’t forget Al-Qadr night,
When souls seek guidance and purify,
The winners pray and long recite,
For they were chosen by the All-High.

I raise my hands and close my eyes,
May God accept our fast and prayers,
By the end of this I want the prize,
Which God has promised, we are the heirs.

_____________________________________________________________

Qiyam Poem

By: Emad Hamdeh

In the day I struggle and sin while You watch me
Forgetting what I promised Thee
That I won’t do it again
I have come to realize that being far from You is disgrace
Now being near to You is the only place
I wish to be, please grant me my wish by Your Grace
All others closed their doors
You are The Most Generous, please open up Yours
Allah allow me to wake up at night
I have sinned much in the daylight
Please my heart needs to come to you in flight
My desire of sleep I shall fight
To prostrate to You in the nights peak
Complaining about my heart being so weak
Bless me and let that tear leak
Down this sinful mans cheek
Let my tongue ask for forgiveness, for all the evil it did speak
Let my arrogant nose
Go on the floor where peoples feet and toes
Walk, where it belongs my forehead goes
Let my prostration be lengthy and my tears plenty
My back is getting weak, as the sins on my shoulders are so hefty
Please Oh Allah let me be among those who are awake while others sleep

I carry heavy sins and the road to You is steep
They are holding me down and making me slip and fall
But Your name I will always call
Allow me to prostrate to You in the dark
As sins have left on my heart a great black mark
Allah I beg You not to leave me to myself
For clearly I cannot see
My sins have left me roaming blindly
Guide me to Your Light
I miss prostrating to You at night
Now I tear, because I fear
Not tasting the sweetness of being alone with You and so near
Oh Allah I haven’t prayed Qiyam in so long
Since the last time, I have done so much wrong
Oh Allah without You I can’t be strong
Being away from You I can no longer take
From the chains and yokes of my sins I want to break
Oh Allah grant me this request
Though of your servants I am so far from the best
Oh Allah I am so sinful compared to the rest
Please let me pass this test
Oh Allah don’t deprive me of standing between Your Hands
A place a sinner like me never stands
My sins are enough to cover the lands
Let me be pleased with Your decree
Whatever happened was meant to be
Whatever I missed was not meant for me
My only strength and courage is through Thee
Accept from me my prayer
Oh Allah my heart aches
Being alone with You brings back great memories
Remembering those days takes
My heart into different states
Oh Allah my heart misses You so much that it is about to fall and break
The thought of how much I disobeyed You makes me quiver and shake
Oh my Lord, please give me my wish and inspire
Me to do good so I may be saved from the fire
Oh Allah I can no longer speak
My heart misses You so much it has become weak
Oh Allah How Revered You are
You are so near, but I chose to be far
Allow me another chance to be close to You
To drop another tear while prostrating before You
My sins covered my heart with a dark thick layer

Remove it with Your Light
Allow me to come back and stand before You at night
Return to my heart its sight
For it is weak and losing the fight
Help me as You are my only Power and Might
La Hawla wala Quwata illa Billah

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A Mother’s Last Words
By: Hadiyah Stephens
Compare, if you will, two flowers the same
Except one is vibrant and fresh, the other crumpled and plain
They lay in my hand, one in each palm
And looking at them, I experience a strange calm

My mind goes back in time, I begin to reflect
And I realise I have a lot to correct
I ask myself, ‘when was the last time you prayed?’
‘And when was the last time you freely gave aid?’

I sit down then, right there on the grass
I start crying, the tears come fast
I don’t know what made me feel this way
So sad, so helpless, so full of dismay

I stare down bleakly at my balled-up fist
I feel confused, surely there’s something I’ve missed
Something is wrong, there’s something I should know
I struggle to remember, my confusion grows

I grow frustrated, I clutch at the flowers
Then breaking through my rage, a sound that empowers
I hear my mother’s gentle voice, so near, so treasured
And my tears run freely as her last words, I remember

She died in the month of Ramadan, the very last night
And even though she was in pain, her face was lit with light
She clasped my hand and brought me near
And whispered to me, her voice frail, yet clear

She told me of Ramadan, her favourite month of the year
And of how everyday she would spread hope and cheer
I remembered vaguely of her always being away from home
Always in Ramadan, she would go out alone

She told me of what Ramadan brings
Peace, Forgiveness, Happiness, Blessings
She told me to make sure others know
She grasped my hand tight and begged me to go

She told me to continue on after her death
She was staring at me as she drew her last breath
Then she died with the Shahadah echoing on her pale lips
And in her features I could see the toll of many hardships

I didn’t carry on her work
I refused to acknowledge her last words
I closed myself off from the whole of Islam
I had left the straight path for the path of harm

And as I stood there with the flowers in my hands
I recalled a story my mother had taught me from our homeland
Three dates she gave me after Iftar
She asked me to identify their differences, I thought it bizarre

I did as she asked, I examined all three
And when I was finished she asked for my decree
I told her the truth, one was fresh, one dried
And the last was cracked, brittle and split down the side

She smiled as if pleased and gathered me close
She then asked me how the rest of the lesson goes
I look up at her, uncomprehending, confused
She smiled again, picked up some dates, just two

One was the fresh one, the other was the dried
I gave no response to my mothers wide questioning eyes
The fresh date represents a true Muslim’
‘The dry one is a disbeliever, instead’

She pauses before picking up the last date; she waited for a reaction
Then she holds up the last date, the one which was hardened
She waits for a little longer then she slowly tells me
This one represents a Kuffar and a hypocrite, do you see?

I didn’t get it then but I sure get it now
I finally understand and will now make a vow
I called myself a Muslim while doing nothing at all
And now I will save myself from this head-long fall

Because that lesson my mum taught me so long ago
Was not just a lesson but a life echo
What she showed me using just three dates
Is really what we are all trying to create

With this simple lesson we can learn
What is the key we are all trying to earn
The key to Paradise is simple to get
Just try to be the fresh date in each set

I cradled the flowers as I ducked indoors
I have to apply what I learnt to my life and more
I filled up a vase and placed the flowers inside
And ran to make wudo with Allah as my guide

That prayer was a first for a very long time
I had just started my prayer when the clock began to chime
I was full of thankfulness, cheer and more too
I’d realised I was free of the wrong I’d been going through

When I sat and studied Islam that night
I felt like a new person, full of radiant light
I looked out of the window out of pure chance
And when I saw what I saw I felt like doing a dance

For hanging up there in the heavens, was an inspiring sight
Glimmering softly against the blackness of night
Moving slowly across the sky, slim and new
Was the brand new beautiful Ramadan Moon

Since my mother had died I hadn’t fasted a day
But the present was different, before I had been astray
But now I didn’t fear Ramadan like I had in the past
Now I gladly went around preparing for my fast

That night long ago, when my mother breathed her last
She had told me the secret to the blessed month of the fast
I had nodded, pretending to comprehend
I hadn’t, and now I must make my amends

I am proud to be a Muslim, let everyone know
The lesson taught to me by my Mum so long ago
Stay away from harms way, try to do right
Especially in Ramadan, the blessed month of light

A mother’s last words everyone should heed
Often a little advice is all that you need
Follow my mother’s lesson and pave your way clear
Build your Iman and make it sincere

Ramadan is not to be dreaded and feared
As many different things its not what it appears
Sure it’s about fasting all day
But it’s also about who you obey

Do good in Ramadan, be your best
As we all know, life’s only a test
Be a good Muslim, keep up the good deeds
And maybe one day, we shall all succeed

Peace, Sincerity, Forgiveness and more
This is what Ramadan brings to every Muslim’s door
Do what my Mum told me all those years past
“Treat every Ramadan as if it’s your last”
_____________________________________________________________

Welcome Ramadan
By: Syed Muneeb Shere

I wonder how you welcome Ramadan
Do you wait for it with open arms?
And when it comes, give it a welcome warm?
Or do you grumble and believe that harm
Is hunger to health or is thirst too hard?
And it fascinates me how you treat your fast
Do you wake up grumbling before dawn?
To eat a morsel, on your face a frown?
And then do you pray, with a sleepy brain
Your morning prayer, before the time is gone?

And do you sleep, through out the day?
Or does your fast get in your way
When you are told to do some work
Other than chatting, or gossiping, or play?
Does your fast stop when you lie?
Or does the fast pass as every normal day?
In entertainment, untruths and useless bray?
Is that how you treat Ramadan?

Or when fast is broken, do you eat your feed?
Without caring about those in need?
Is a day’s hunger not sufficient to make you heed
Or your heart yearns not towards a good deed?
Or does it not pain you, your every bad deed?
Is not Ramadan, enough to take lead?
Of your misguided selfish deeds?
Is that how you treat Ramadan?

And in the mosque, at the time of night
When is recited, the book of light
Do you spend the time in flight?
From your Lord and in useless fights?
Does not your conscience bite?
Your heart or is it too much still
To make you stir for the path which is right
Is that how you treat Ramadan?

Beware the month of forgiveness and mercy
Do you not take from the hell fright?
Or do you not wish to be pure and white
To rush towards your Lord and the guiding light?
Return before you reach the height
When time is over and your insight
Becomes frightfully clear and bright
O Man waste not your Ramadan
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Iftar Table Musings
By: Sohaib Baig

The medjool dates are ready, so is my glass of water
I sit with my watch
a million thoughts slide by
as quietly as the distant, setting sun
the day’s struggles
the thirst
the hunger
the tedious incomplete work
the forthcoming night
my eyes close, but my mind stays awake
my stomach growls, counting the time
as if it can be counted

What is time, but a hideous distraction
An anchor pulling us back to this gargantuan world,
cutting it into small, edible bits
but there really is no time – only timelessness
for this is not really a world – only an evanescing phase
our souls are on an eternal journey,
created from long before, headed for something much greater
we have to weave our way
maneuver past this world’s tight fist
stamp out our cold, befuddled shivers
open our eyes for the first time, truly
then bask in the tranquil openness, and warmness
inside rivers with no banks and valleys with no peaks
under a sun with endless streams of light
and gaze at our Lord
freely, peacefully, unendingly
and all alone.

we all have been marauding around
like uninvited guests, though we were invited
eating the forbidden fruit, hiding behind leaves
few, if ever, see through the deftly-woven branches
and notice the rays of light and Mercy
streaming, encompassing our nomadic worlds
giving life to our automated lives
He offers us forgiveness
all these Ramadans, all these Prayers
all this Qur’an, all these Qiyams
but we deftly press the snooze button

how far we are from Him,
yet how close He is to us.

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Untitled Poem
By: Hind El-Ayoubi

It’s the feeling I can’t explain

The way that it made me forget my pain

With every breath that I take

Never in my life have I ever been more awake

The way it made its presence known

Sent a chill down to my bone

As I look up and ask God to witness this miraculous time of the year

Reassurance accompanied me with tears

Ramadan how I’ve counted down the days

Until you came and cleared up the haze

The month of mercy and forgiveness it is

Puts me in an unworldly state of bliss

The Quran which was revealed on this day

To understand it all and live by it for this I pray

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The Maghreb Moment: A Ramadan Poem
By: Adem Carroll

It is within you. And it comes again

Between us—

The sweet, mysterious breath of

Springtime rain;

The inner heat of secret light

Like the green within the flame.

No fear, no paperwork or mountaintop,

No borders stop this Ramadan;

Witness the heart’s uncertain trek towards waking

Through seasons, sands– small wandering child with drum.

Come home, my heart, this evening

As loved ones gather in the kitchen warm with steam;

Our loving mother is the cook

And God is He who sent the Book to wake us from this dream.

In need we find the treasure:

Beyond consuming or consumed,

We may drink the green life here

Before we are entombed.

In the desert, “ain,” the word for eye, oasis is the same—

But as one will empty one will fill.

Yet now these evenings out of the darkness comes

All life to share the source in peace…

And the drums are still.

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Ramadan Oh Ramadan
By: Zuha Mirza

Ramadan oh Ramadan how I miss thee

You come for one month and leave us for an 11 month spree

You bring us both blessings and control from the shaytaan,

But eventually leave us, anticipating next year’s Ramadan.

Ramadan oh Ramadan how I miss thee

Waking up with tired eyes for suhoor and some tea

Frying samosas and filling up our plates in time for iftaar with glee

The sweet and savory taste of the kajoor

Keeps me filled from iftar to suhoor

Ramadan oh Ramadan how I miss thee

Taraweeh and ibadaah, I perform with Allah’s decree

I make dua with immense faith and concentration

Hoping this Ramadan’s fasts will be accepted without any hesitation

Ramadan oh Ramadan how I miss thee

I hope to meet you this year, so I can welcome you contently

Ramadan oh Ramadan how I miss thee

I hope I can meet you the next year, so I can keep fasts in honor of HE

Ramadan oh Ramadan how I LOVE thee

That I keep missing you, even when you’re not here with me

_______________________________________________________________________

Where hope lies
By: Miriam Islam

Engulfed in the blackness of despair, drowning with deeds beyond repair

The sinner walks a lonely path

A desperate effort to heal the wounded aftermath

Chased by the demons of desire

The dunya led him closer to the fire

The glitter of pleasures and death never pending

Threw him into sins never ending.

So great is the shame, marred with emotions unnamed

How can he dare to call upon his lord again?

With a heavy heart and eyes downcast

Dreams of carefree days go past

A time when it was so easy to raise up hands and freely request

Innocent pleas and simple decisions, praying Allah would ease the rest.

Requesting from his Lord most high, most bountiful

Who made all good things seem possible, and the evil unthinkable.

So when did the light of goodness fade into darkness?

Was it through the extinguish of the conscience

Or did it diminish with the weak voice of reason

When overshadowed by the shout of Satan?

So the sinner walks a lonely path,

No longer seeking wrong or right, only hoping for a ray of light.

A light of purpose, a light of redemption

A lamp of guidance, leading to the road of salvation.

A way to repent for the time unspent

For the obligations unfulfilled and the book unread

The deeds which rendered the weak heart dead.

So what can revive the stricken heart?

Allah set a month apart.

A time of healing, a time of hope

A time when everyone can grasp a lifeline boat.

Drifting to Allah’s mercy, escaping to the plains of tranquillity

Wherein lies a night, better than a thousand nights.

Containing beauty and power concealed from sight.

A time to walk through a new door and emerge with vows of “no more”

And so the sinner walks a lonely path

Towards renewal and amendments for the past.

Through doors of repentance and levels of submission

Allah’s mercy leads him to the doors of admission

The promise of two gardens for taqwa for a lord unseen

In the prevention of a fearful deed.

For O son of Adam if your sins reached the sky

But you called on your lord just one time

You would be forgiven as if you had never turned to transgression.

So never despair of the mercy of Ar Rahman, turn the key in Ramadan.

Reignite the former glory of Eemaan.

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Missed out on all the action? Check out: Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 |The Finals

Calling all Muslim kids- Do you love the wonderful month of Ramadan? Would you share your joy with Muslims around the world? Here is how- send in a craft or a puzzle, a photograph or a story about Ramadan or  Eid ul Fitr. Be as creative as you can be. Tell us what makes this time of the year so special for you.

Make sure you send in pictures of the finished craft with directions.

For puzzles- send us the answers too.

Give us some background about your photograph ie why you think it is special, what camera did you use?

Here is a nasheed for inspiration.

Click here to view the embedded video.

We will vote for the best post in each category and the winners will have their posts published on Muslim Matters.

Last day for sending in your submission will be September 5^th, inshaAllah. We realize there isn’t that much time left, but the same goes for the month of Ramadan : ) .  This contest is open to all Muslim kids  under the age of 14, all over the world (MM staffers’ families are encouraged to participate too).

EMAIL entries to art[@]muslimmatters.org

** Announcement **

The Ramadan Poetry Contest closes at 1800 GMT TODAY (21st August, 2010 – 10th of Ramadan in many places!). Due to the overwhelming number of entries we’ve received, masha’Allah, we will be quite strict about the deadline. So please make sure your entry is in by the stated time! JazakumAllah khair.

***

Welcome to the another edition of MuslimMatters.org’s regular Islamic Art feature. If you want to see your work on MM, then either email us your images to art[@]muslimmatters[.]org or submit them to our Flickr group.

Click on the images below to view the original.

The best, by Fouad EA. Calligraphy Tuluth style.

Freedom, by SameePanda. Aerosol Paints on MDF. The mural was designed to represent Spiritual Freedom/Freedom of the Heart and Soul, hence the quote of Ibn Taymiyyah to add emphasis on what Freedom means from an Islamic perspective.

Khayrul Waaritheen, Best of Inheritors, by Zayd Depaor.

Istanbul, by Nushmia Khan. Studying abroad in Istanbul for me was one of the most spiritual experiences I've had. I was able to understand the true essence of my religion, as put by the Prophet Muhammad (s) - Nothing will help you on the day of judgment except a sound heart.

Islamic Center of North Virginia, by Saad Malik. Beautiful Masjid in Virginia.

Humaira, by Aznin Taridi.

Ramadan 2010, by Swamibu.

Visit the MuslimMatters Flickr group to view the other entries…

—
Note: all the images presented in our Islamic Art feature are copyrighted to the original producers. Do not reproduce them without seeking their prior consent.

** Announcement, 29/08/2010 **

***

It has been two years since our last Ramadan competition. In 2008, we were blessed to receive many wonderful short stories written by our talented readers. This time, we’d like the inspiration to flow in the form of poetry.

• Theme: The beautiful month of Ramadan – and all the precious things associated with it, i.e., Qur’an, fasting, self-sacrifice, charity, the Nights of Power, and much, much more.
• Style: Traditional, abstract, rhyming, non-rhyming, spoken word, haiku, iambic pentameter… anything goes. As long as it’s poetic and inspirational.
• Format: Poems may be submitted as either standard text, imagery (i.e., a poem on an image background), or as a video (max. duration: 3 minutes).
• Submission details: Entries should be submitted to art[@]muslimmatters.org with the subject: “Ramadan Poetry Contest”, between the 1st and 10th day of Ramadan, inclusive (according to the MM calendar). Videos entries should be first uploaded to YouTube, and the link emailed to the above address. The video description should include the line: “Submission to MuslimMatters.org’s Ramadan 2010 Poetry Contest: http://art.muslimmatters.org”, and “MuslimMatters Ramadan Poetry Contest” as a tag.
• Voting: Submissions that conform with MM rules will be published on MuslimMatters between 11th-20th Ramadan, where readers will be allowed to vote for their favourite entries. The winners will then be picked from the ‘favourited’ pool by a panel of MM judges.
• Prizes:  A cash prize (USD) will be given to the winner, and the same amount donated in their name to charity; a reward for dunya, and a reward for akhira:
  • 1st place: $250 to winner, and $250 to charity.
  • 2nd place: $100 to winner, and $100 to charity.
  • 3rd place: $50 to winner, and $50 to charity.
• Winners will be announced on Eid-ul-Fitr, insha’Allah.

Please make sure to read and comply with the following terms and conditions:

• One submission allowed per entrant.
• The poem must be original, and not previously published.
• Entrants must have permission to use the text, images and/or sounds (as relevant) included in their submission. For example, no ripping off nasheed artists, or stealing pictures from Google images! Please respect the work of others.
• By entering the contest, the entrant gives MuslimMatters.org permission to reproduce their submission.
• All material should be suitable for “family-viewing”; offensive or obscene content will obviously not be permitted.
• In the case of imagery, any featured male and/or female subjects should be covered according to proper Islamic guidelines.
• The video soundtrack must not include musical instrumentation. Voice-only please.
• MuslimMatters reserves the right to not publish any submitted material, and to change any aspect of the contest at any time, at our own discretion.

Now you’ve read the rules, get working on your poem! We look forward to your submissions. Make sure to spread the word.

We are pleased to announce that MuslimMatters.org has once again been nominated for a Brass Crescent Award – however this year we are up for both “Best Blog” and “Best Group Blog“, masha’Allah!

JazakumAllah khair to all those who put the site forward during the nomination round. Please now visit the site to submit your votes. Polls close end of day Friday, November 27, 2009 – 9 pm (Fri) PST, 12 am (Sat) EST, 5 am (Sat) GMT.

Just a quick note to let you know that the final voting round is now open on the BCAs 2008. You may notice that we have been nominated under the “Best Group Blog” category, alhamdulillah. JazakumAllah khair to all those who nominated us! Polls close on the 19th December.

Congratulations Sr. Bint AbdelHamid who won the Reader’s Poll for Best Ramadan Story, beating the 2nd place (two stories tied: Of Love & Parents and Cancer in Ramadan) by 5 votes. As you can see from the final vote count, the race was extremely tight among the top 4.

As winner of the Reader’s Poll, Sr. Bint AbdelHamid will receive $100 CASH.

JazakumAllahkhair to all the writers, and all the readers who took the time to read the stories and vote for the best.

Until next time…

*Poll ends midnight a week from now, midnight of Saturday, 10/25/2009*
This week, MM has been dominated by the announcement of the winners of the Ramadan Short Story Contest ’08, as voted for by the staff and shayookh.

But now, as AbuAbdAllah had suggested in one of his comments, it is time to express YOUR opinion about who you think should have clinched first prize, by taking part in our readers poll! We urge you to vote with responsibility, i.e. the authors deserve that you read their stories before casting your vote. So, please try reading all stories before casting your vote. In fact, that is one of the purposes of creating this poll, the opportunity for these great stories to be read!

First, a reminder of the six finalists:

“Of Love, Parents, and Ramadhaan” by Sadia
“A Word in Passing” by Bint AbdelHamid
“Whomsoever Allah Guides…” by Amira Khan
“Cancer in Ramadan” by Khaled elMassri
“Sadaqah” by Azra Tashfeen
“Look, it’s a Giant Bubble in Louisiana!” by Shirien Elamawy

So, which Ramadan Short Story did you like the best? Vote now using the widget below (please make sure to use the scroll bars to see the full list). The most popular entry will win a cool hundred dollars!

[memedex: pollid#488141#450#450]

Now, the final of the winning 6 stories (don’t worry, we’ll be putting up some of the others in the future, insha’Allah)…  Congratulations to sister Shirien Elamawy (of EgyptianGumbo.com), for her submission. Although it may seem a little outdated (the hurricane is over after all, alHamdulillaah, keep in mind that certain things never get older – certainly not reminders of Allah’s blessings upon His Slaves.

Very, the reminder benefits the believer, so O believers, take benefit from this inspiring story!

As a runner-up, sister Shirien wins a free single adult’s registration to this year’s Texas Da’wah Convention!

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Giant Bubble Appears in Louisiana – Amazing!! By Shirien Elamawy

You’re probably reading this wondering why someone would write a whole article about a giant bubble. “Surely I have better things to do with my time than read about a bubble,” you say to yourself. Well, while a bubble did appear in Louisiana — It’s wasn’t exactly made of soap.If I had titled this article, “Ramadan reflections from Hurricane Gustav” you wouldn’t have been very interested and instead would have probably already made your way to YouTube to watch videos of skateboarding dogs. The bubble I’m referring to is both a blessing and a hardship from Allah. Having no electricity could have been one of the best blessings Allah had given the Muslims here in Louisiana, but was also a huge test.

Last week, starting exactly with the first day of Ramadan, 1.4 million people were without power, and many still are. In the beginning of this whole ordeal, I knew this was a test from Allah. “I’m going to sooo pass this test, inshaAllah,” I told myself. And as the first two days went by, I smiled, unaware of what it would be like for the rest of the week.Now, I don’t know how many of you know what it’s like to go without electricity for that long, but let me set the scene for you:

1. No light
2. No air conditioning in hot/humid weather
3. Everything in the refrigerator has about 2-3 days before it’s thrown out
4. Most, if not all the stores are not open, including grocery stores
5. Few gas stations were open and running on generators which caused people to wait in a half mile long line to fill their tanks
6. There were no cell phone signals for a few days
7. No internet
8. No TV to watch the news and know what’s going on in the outside world
9. No cooking anything but barbeque

Now, so far I’ve listed things that all seem negative in their nature. And although they are definite hardships, wallahi there is another side that very few people tend see or talk about in this situation.

This is the reality of what Ramadan is like for Muslims living in Louisiana so far:

First, we have plenty of time to read Quran. No one has work or school due to the downed trees all over the city and the lack of electricity. The avenues that were use to distract us from the worship of Allah have now been taken away from us. We can no longer spend hours on the computer, talking on the phone or watching TV.

Muslims and even non-Muslims are starting to appreciate the blessings of Allah so much more. Allah ‘azza wa jal says in surat Ibrahim “Wa in ta3ddu na3mit Allahi la tuhsuha, innal insaana la thalummun kaffar.”There was never a time I loved electricity and yearned for it like I did in those days. I loved it more than a fat kid loved his cake — and even more, walhamdulillah. And I, like a lot of you, was waiting for the iman bubble of going to the masjid everyday for taraweeh to help my iman rise from the low that it was in. I was just waiting for something new to happen so that I can start anew. But Allah ‘az wa jal had something else written. Taraweeh was done in our homes. One of our masajid had been damaged by the storm. Both of our main masajid did not have electricity. Therefore, I was told brothers were praying in the dark, and the sisters were asked not to come. I still, to this day, have not gone to one iftaar or one taraweeh prayer in the masjid this Ramadan. Wallahul musta’an.

I could be telling you this to babble, but since I’ve gotten my electricity back, Alhamdulillah after a week, I decided to try to continue using my time for the worship of Allah. I kind of actually miss how it was. Every day that passes the more I get distracted with my school work among other things. So what’s my point?

You’ve waited for Ramadan to become a better Muslim and to raise your iman.  But what if may Allah forbid, Allah sent a “Gustav” to you? And remember, you don’t have the internet to listen to your lectures; all you have is to read Quran by candle light in the middle of the night. You shouldn’t depend on anything other than yourself and Allah to become a better Muslim. Acknowledge tests as they come to you, and be determined to pass them no matter what Allah puts in your path to test your truthfulness and iman.

When Muslim Matters put up their “Ramadan Story Contest” I really didn’t think to submit anything, and for the record this isn’t for the contest. But as I was going through the tests Allah has put in our path, I knew I had a story — but didn’t know how to tell it. I mean, let’s face it — many people don’t care what happens in another part of the world so long as they are not directly affected. Allah gave us here in Louisiana a chance to remember what our brothers and sisters in Iraq and other parts of the world are going through. While non-muslims complained about not having electricity, we shed tears remembering our brothers and sisters we’ve forgotten.

This is your chance not to forget.

I’d like to request that you help the relief process here in Louisiana by donating through ICNA relief. Many people already knows that I work in public relations, but subhanallah, I neither work with ICNA relief nor do they know of me writing this article. I know personally many of those who work with ICNA relief here in Louisiana, some of them are even in the photos ICNA put on their website. They were in the front lines during hurricane Katrina, and I can testify to the amazing job they did and are still doing. And now, subhanallah they are asking for more donations.Barak Allahu feekom.

Any may Allah shower you all with his blessings and mercy, ameen.

*Duff roll*

Without further ado, I present to you… the one… the only… GRAND PRIZE WINNER of MuslimMatter’s Short Story Contest ’08: Sister Azra Tashfeen of Qabeelat Hayl, Columbus, Ohio!1st prize package includes: $150 Cash + Book: “Towards Understanding Our Religion – collected articles from al-Basheer, the magazine” edited by Sheikh Jamal Zarabozo + 1 Free AlMaghrib Registration.

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Sadaqah - Azra Tashfeen

Bismillah.

It was the first night of Ramadan in Columbus, Ohio.  I listened with awe as the melodious voice of Sheikh Abdelkarim echoed through the ISNA convention prayer hall.  My younger siblings were beside me taking turns to pray, struggling not to fall asleep.  When it was over, I felt a sense of accomplishment descending upon me, satisfied that I had just prayed all twenty raka’at.  After all, Ramadan was about increasing in one’s worship, praying nawafil, reading more Quran, and staying up at night making dhikr, right?  Or so I thought.

As we waited for the men in my family to join us, my mom and siblings sat down exhausted and thirsty.  Around us, all the restaurants were closed and there were no water fountains in sight. My mom asked me to go search for a drink, anything at all, and said she would wait until I returned.  I left upon her request with three little ones tagging along.  “Behave!” my mom admonished them.

We walked and walked through the main hall of the convention center, passing by the crowds of people still pouring out of the prayer hall.  Nothing.  No sign of water, juice, pop, coffee, nothing.  Finally, my little brother spotted a vending machine in a corner so I immediately pulled out a five dollar bill and waited for the people in front me to finish.  They were a group of brothers, bearded ones, who seemed to be struggling to get their choice of soda.  “Is it jammed?” I inquired.  Apparently, all the drinks were sold out.  Just when my siblings felt relieved to finally be able to quench their thirst, my insides melted in having to explain that the machine was empty. Poor kids.

“So which is the magic button?”  One of the brothers asked just as a Nestle’s Iced Tea popped out from the machine.  It seemed that Iced Tea was the only bottle in stock.  When the guys moved away, I quickly helped my little brother straighten the five dollar bill and insert it into the machine.  It didn’t go.  I attempted once more, but still no luck.”It’s only taking change,” one of the brothers turned around to say.  When I opened my wallet, however, all I had was a quarter, a penny, and some foreign currency.  So for the second time, I looked down at my little siblings and gently explained that I didn’t have enough change, thus could not purchase a drink.  The two girls clung tightly to my abaya as I tried to sift through my purse, keep my hijab on straight, and re-explain the concept of “SOLD OUT” to my seven year-old brother.

Before I could even zip my purse shut, however, the brothers began pulling out nickels and dimes from their pockets and held it out before me.  “No, no! JazakumAllahu kheir, no it’s okay!” I persistently refused.  But upon looking at the three innocent little faces around me, I slowly extended my hand, cupped, so they can drop the change in it.  Those brothers must have thought I was a mother of three kids, desperately seeking to feed her children.  Immediately, my siblings rushed to insert the coins in the machine, one nickel at a time, shrieking, “I want to put the big one in!” “That’s not fair, he already got a turn!” “Can I keep one?!”  The generous men kept producing coins until they were assured the machine read $1.50.  I hit the last button on the machine, and at last, out came the much waited for Iced Tea.  But by the time I turned around to thank the brothers, they were gone.

I was highly embarrassed.  For the first time in my life, I felt what it was like to be on the receiving end of charity.  The idea of not being able to afford something had never even occurred to me in the past.  Yet, now a matter of a few nickels and dimes made a world of difference.  And though I didn’t want to take their sadaqah, I felt compelled to accept it because there were six other people depending on me to satisfy their thirst.I went home that night awe-struck.  If this was how needy I felt for one moment in time, what then of the thousands, millions of children who will wait for food every sunset of every day this month but won’t receive any?  What then of the parents whose hearts are crushed because they will return home to their families with nothing to feed them?  I will not pretend to understand the suffering they face.  But that night, just for one moment, I believe I got a taste of what it might be like to genuinely be in need of something, as simple as a drink of water, as cheap as $1.50.It is likely that I will never find out who those good-hearted brothers were.  Yet, the charitable act they showed towards me and my siblings will remain etched in our faith forever.  Their kindness illuminated a deeper meaning to Ramadan than prayer and fasting.  It is to rekindle that sense of human compassion that is so much a part of our fitrah, that we as Muslims should care for others as we do for our own families.  It is that of giving, spending from one’s wealth, and doing so without attaching a “You owe me” price tag to it.

Allah SWT says in Surah Insan, “And they [the pious people who will enter Jannah] give food, out of love for Him, to the poor, the orphan, and the captive [saying] “We feed you seeking only the Pleasure of Allah; we neither want from you reward nor thanks.” (76:8-9).

Dear brothers and sisters, Ramadan is the month of sharing with others.  Give, give, and give more; do not underestimate the potential of even the most trivial quantity, even if it be nickels, dimes, and a couple quarters.For the brothers who moistened the mouths of seven thirsty people, may Allah SWT provide them with an endless supply of drink from the river of Al-Kawthar. Ameen!