While hunting for lasagna noodles in the grocery store, I accidentally collided carts with another shopper. I chuckled and quickly apologized, glancing up to find a woman smiling back at me. Her headscarf caught my eye—a striking blue and silver ensemble tied elegantly, a style I had attempted countless times without success.
As we continued to cross paths in the aisles, we exchanged those polite smiles we’ve all mastered—the kind that conveys “I’m friendly, but please don’t engage me in conversation.” However, when we reached the baking aisle, I took a leap of faith and spoke up.
“Your scarf is gorgeous! I’m envious of how perfectly you’ve tied it. I always seem to mess it up.” Her initial surprise transformed into a warm smile that lit up her face.
“It’s really easy!” she replied.
Despite my protests of inability, she insisted, “Let me show you!” Right there, in the baking aisle, she began to unwrap her scarf and remove pins, demonstrating step by step how to achieve that smooth look. As she tied her scarf, we shifted from laughter to a deeper conversation. I asked, “Where are you from?”
“Egypt,” she replied.
Curiosity took over, and I asked, “Are you Muslim?” Her smile dimmed slightly as she nodded, “Yes.” In that moment, something unexpected happened—I felt tears welling up.
“I’m sorry,” I said, my voice trembling. “I’m sorry for all the hate you’re hearing. I’m sorry people judge you for something you shouldn’t be judged for. It breaks my heart that you might feel afraid when someone asks you about your beliefs.” And with that, tears streamed down my cheeks. I asked if I could hug her.
She looked taken aback but nodded, her own eyes glistening. We embraced, and her name was Layla. Our conversation blossomed as we discussed the complexities of the world.
We acknowledged that every group has its light and its shadows—good and bad exist among Jews, Christians, Muslims, and indeed, every individual. This is a truth I grapple with daily. I’m just an ordinary person, a mother striving to raise my children in an increasingly complicated world. I feel anxiety over their future, the political climate, and yes, even the threats posed by extremist groups. Yet, I recognize that these groups do not define all Muslims.
As I continue to wrestle with my feelings about the challenges facing our nation, I believe one of the greatest dangers is allowing fear to dictate our actions. We must strive to ensure that our values remain intact, especially for the sake of our children. It’s essential to teach them to be vigilant but also to trust in the goodness of others, regardless of race, religion, or background. Above all, I emphasize the importance of love.
During our conversation, I recalled a phrase shared by my friend Mia on social media and asked Layla for help recalling it. “As-salamu alaykum,” I told her, and she graciously helped me pronounce it. The phrase, which means “peace be upon you,” resonated deeply within me.
We all yearn for peace—no matter our faith. It’s a universal desire that cannot be achieved through fear, but only through love. Choose love. Love prevails.
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In summary, my encounter in the grocery store reminded me of the importance of connection and understanding in a world often clouded by fear and misunderstanding. Each of us has the potential to contribute to a more compassionate society by embracing love and acceptance.