AbezAbez Is... 50% White, 50 % Pakistani, Muslim Hijab-wearing type female, Daughter of Momma, Sister of Owlie Wife of HF, Momma of Khalid, a special little boy with Autism, and Iman, a special little girl with especially big hair, Writer, Graphic Designer, Editor, Freelancer, Blogger, Inhaler of Chocolate
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Prometheus, who buts brains to blog about Autism

Socrates, a blogger with Asperger's

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Monday, December 27, 2004

ready, aim, FIRE!

It’s only 2 am, not three, but I’m entertaining crazy thoughts anyway. I’m just an hour ahead of schedule, that’s all.

I wanted to blog about Christmas in my house (as celebrated by my Christian Momma) and all the things that go with it, all the small ironies and oddities of having the Christmas tree on one side of the room and the rack of prayer rugs on the other. Yeah, we have a tree. And it has an ‘angel’ on top and presents underneath. If this were any other Muslim house, and if our mother was any religion other than Christian, there would be no valid reason or excuse to have Christmas. But since she is, and we do, I sometimes feel like we might be being misunderstood.

I don’t advocate celebrating Christmas for non-Christians. If you don’t think that Jesus was the son of God and that Dec. 25th was the day that said Saviour of mankind, Lord of Lords, King of Kings, was born to redeem us all, then don’t celebrate it. So what if there are gifts. Give them on Eid. Or any other day for no reason. So the decorations are pretty, who said you can’t decorate your house any other day. Maybe you find the sentiment nice? Appreciate your family every other day of the year if it’s really about appreciation.

The Christmas tree is a hand-me-down from English Druids, who worshipped nature and attempted to indulge in magic both black and white, for whom the evergreen tree had special powers for the reason that every other tree ‘died’ in winter but this one still lived. Even the Bible advocates (In Jeremiah) that we ‘be not like those who decorate and worship trees.’

The holly decorations on the window are pagan superstitions based on holly warding away evil spirits and therefore preventing them from entering your home. I’m not sure who came up with the whole kissing under the mistletoe idea, but I am pretty sure that unlike God, Santa cannot ‘see you when you’re sleeping’ and ‘know when you’re awake’ or ‘know when you’ve been bad or good.’ (so be good for goodness sake) Jolly or not, he’s not omnipotent. St. Nicholas may or may not have been a perfectly nice man a long time ago who died and knows nothing about what’s going on right now.

My mother, my Christian mother, knows all of these things but celebrates Christmas anyway because for her it is a cultural holiday. We help her out because she is our mother, and because she wakes us up for Sahoor in Ramadan and comes with us on Eid prayers to hug us after the dua is over. Whether or not this makes sense, the party isn’t for Christmas, it’s for her.

Like I said, it’s 2 am and I wasted the last three hours on my layout. I’ve picked form over content. Someone shoot me.

With a pump-action rifle.

Loaded with Godiva chocolates.

(This half-baked blog brought to you by Sleep-No, recommended by 9 out of ten doctors to cause mental fuzziness)

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