Baheera´s Story

It all started once upon a time back in 1996.

Before I start I must explain that on the whole my parents and family are very open-minded, non racist and understanding people.
I was chosen to study in Morocco as a Rotary Exchange Student, my going to Morocco was a freak accident  anyway, I would of been more likely to go to Belgium. But, I'm convinced God had me go there for a purpose.
Once there, I, a born and bred cradle Catholic of Hippie parents who had a new age lifestyle. I saw for the first time a real Islamic society, I actually interacted with Muslims, I heard the Azhan for the first time my first night there and I can say with absolute conviction that it was then that I knew I was to be a Muslim. I sat there on my host families porch listening to the azhan for the Maghrib prayers and it sent chills through every bone in my body, I felt like I knew what it was he was saying even though I did not. During my stay in Morocco, I observed quietly and fought internally with my self, determined to say the rosary and read the little bible I brought with me, some times I did, most times I didn't. I also had numerous discussions about Islam with my host dad.
I came back, all of a sudden I was back in this country, It was pretty shocking for a few
days, It was a shock to see girls in shorts and tube tops in the mall and Churches at every corner, I was so used to seeing hijabi's, Mosques and hearing the Azhan. I missed that. For a time being I forgot about Islam but one evening in Barnes & Noble I came across the religion section and bought a cheap, small paperback English version of the Quran. I read a little, yawned and put it away. The version I obtained was written in the same English as the King James Bible, I could hardly understand a word and it was even set out like the Bible. How dull!! where was the mystery, the magic? where was the shiver down my spine? no where!! I felt angry, I felt like it was a lost cause.later, One evening as I surfed on the web I looked up some pages on Islam and came across the email discussion group of SIS-NET, I secretly joined and was overjoyed when I got e-mail from sisters discussing Islam so passionately. I introduced myself and asked for any information available and I got plenty. One I remember fondly is the "package post" I printed it off, read it secretly. It contained all the information I would need on islam, including how to pray. I read it and read it again. I tried to pray, I got out one of the decorative scarves I bought in Morocco washed myself for Wudu, made a huge water mess in the bathroom and did what I saw my host sister do when she would pray and as I did, I read along. It felt magical, it felt great, I felt like I suddenly had all
this new energy. I finally felt like I could possibly feel some connection to God.
A little later, I accidently left one of my books laying around in the kitchen and my mom, found it, asked me if I was a "Muslim" and why was I reading this book, I denied everything and said that I was just reading it for knowledge. I  felt really embarrassed inside but angry that I couldn't just come out with it.
From then on, went to the bookstore and read other books on Islam and tried hard to read my little version of the Quran. I found some parts quite interesting, especially The Opening, Al-Fatiha, I found it so interesting. there was no talk of saints, the trinity or Mary as the Mother of God.
I then made my Shahada, alone, just me and God one late night. It was a hard choice but I knew deep down I could never feel this way about Roman Catholicism. I was very scared and very apprehensive. After a while I felt such incredible urgency to tell my mom, I was 16 and in a few short hours my world was about to turn upside-down and inside out! I was told in no uncertain terms that I was ignorant, immature, I was forbidden to follow Islam until i was 21, a adult and that I broke my moms heart. I was promptly put back into Catholic religious education and made to take my Confirmation. In one class the teacher told us that it was our choice to take the confirmation and that if you don't want to become a full-fledged member of the Catholic Church to leave and withdraw from the class, deep inside I wanted to run. I couldn't. During the ceremony, I felt empty, sad and felt like this wasn't who I was supposed to become. as the Priest put the Chrisim oil on my forehead and it dripped into my eyes, I felt like I wanted to cry, but I smiled and tried to look happy for my family as they took pictures. I never went back to Church after that.
Here is where my story takes a twist. After awhile I felt so hopeless, I couldn't wait until i was 21 to practice Islam, that's such a long way away. I decided that if I was ever to gain any acceptance in the eyes of my mom I would have to do what the educated person does and research, learn and read all I could about all the major world religions. 
It took me 2 1/2 years and during this process, I visited Buddhist Temples, Synagogues, read the Bible, Quran, Torah and Bagahavagita (all in their entirety), learned about Wicca and went to a Coven Meeting. I learned all I could. I did this for a number of reasons, I understood that my family felt I was acting impulsively, that I was getting into something I didn't really know that much about while leaving the faith I was born into yet knew so little about, they also felt that before I "tied myself down", I should learn about the other faiths. Once I did this and had regular talks with my mom regarding what I learned they felt I was old enough and knew enough to choose for myself. I had just turned 19. deep down all those years I felt like I was still a Muslim. Needless to say I was so incredibly happy, I had finally proven myself.

My first time at a Mosque was in June, 1999. I was chosen to take part in a pre University summer program down in my home city of Pittsburgh, it as there that I started to actually live, publicly as a Muslim. I used to skip my noon class on fridays to attend the Jummah Prayer, I took Quranic classes, I took shariah law classes, I took recitation classes, my whole weekends were spent at the Mosque taking these classes. I put on the hijab for the first time. I loved being at the masjid, I loved Islam and I loved the people I met there! My first time at the Jummah prayer, I can look back and laugh at. I was beyond confused, I was so nervous but I acted like I knew what was going on, I didn't know how many rakats, I kept thinking, wow, this guy (the Imam) really talks for a long long time, I was also confused about why people would stay after the prayers, bend down and bring their hands up in a supplication then get up and pray again!!, I didn't know anything! After awhile I got in the groove of things. There I obtained a beautiful copy of a English/Arabic Quran written in plain English that I could  understand, my very first Prayer rug and my first set of Dhikr beads.

I still have a long ways to go, sometimes I can forget my adhab and act a little un-Islamically, but, I am trying and I feel I am getting much better. I hope to one day to be able to read the Arabic Quran and say my prayers completely 
in Arabic.
I can honestly say that my life is so much more enriched now, I have a purpose in my life that I did'nt have before. I'm not so lost and hopeless feeling, No matter what obsticals my arise. I am proud to be a Muslim.

ma'salaama
Baheera

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