The Huffington Post @ IslamiCity 12/22/2010
When I became a Muslim thirteen years ago this month, I left behind the Christmas traditions my family celebrated every year of my childhood. My mother was able to transform our Southern California home into a Winter Wonderland as soon as we walked in the door; it may have been 75 degrees and sunny outside, but inside we felt we were in a Currier and Ives world of red velvet beribboned pine boughs, twinkling lights and beautiful music. I loved it. The Christmas season and our small traditions remained the same no matter how many years passed. My mother worked extremely hard to build warm, and loving holiday memories, and I sincerely cherish them.Like many American homes, there wasn't much Christ in my family's Christmas. There would always be some discussion surrounding the reason for our celebration, but we didn't attend church services or talk too much about what my parents believed. The beautiful nativity on the mantle, hand-painted by my grandmother, was flanked by tasteful, secular decorations. This led to a kind of vague confusion between the miraculous birth of Jesus, and the magical feat of Santa Claus zipping around the world in one night.
Nostalgia not withstanding, thinking about Christmas is now far more meaningful to me on a spiritual level than it was when I was young. The fact that Muslims accept and believe in the virgin birth of Jesus has been a golden thread that links my childhood Christmas memories to my very fulfilling adult life as a Muslim. continue reading @ IslamiCity