Rabata

A Tribute in Memory of Anse Saida Abbed-Ahmed

مَبْسُوطَتَانِمَبْسُوطَتَانمَبْسُوطَتَانِ Over and over and over….that is all I could hear and see يَدَاهُ مَبْسُوطَتَانِ يُنفِقُ كَيْفَ يَشَآءُ ۚHe is open-handed, giving freely as He pleases (5:64) In this week of intense grief and loss, every time I was still for even a moment…this is all that would wash over me مَبْسُوطَتَانِ Indeed—that is what […]

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Student of the Month – January

From the boardrooms of aerospace strategy to the classrooms of sacred knowledge, our Student of the Month Winter Joanne McCall’s journey reminds us that it’s never too late to begin again with purpose, with love, and with Allah ﷻ. Born and raised in Boston, she has lived in Southern California, London, Seoul, Canberra, and now calls Orlando, Florida home. “Of all the places I’ve lived,” she says, “Central Florida is where I’ve spent the longest, on and off.”

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The World of Rethar

“I can’t see anything!” Someone exclaims, trying to push away the cloudy fog in vain so he can see the road.

“You should get used to it,” Anyone replies, nonchalantly, walking further and further until Someone can barely see Anyone, “It’s like this everywhere except The County.”

“I’m telling you,” Someone insists, “I’m not from The County!”

“Then where did you come from?” Anyone replies, sneering. “Earth?”

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Student of the Month–December

We are excited to introduce December’s Student of the Month. Dr. Renas Almubarak’s journey is one of devotion—to her family, her patients, and her faith. Originally from Sudan, she immigrated to the United States in 2010 to pursue her dream of working with children. After graduating from medical school, she completed seven years of training in pediatrics and emergency pediatric medicine, living in five different states along the way. Today, she and her family have finally settled in New Jersey, where she balances life as a pediatric emergency doctor, wife, and homeschooling mother of four children, aged seven to thirteen.

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Ithikreeni Da’iman

Fajr finds a choir of morning birds serenading me.Would that I could trade them for the velvet cooing of the mother doveWho lives on my window ledge in Syria, four stories up. “Ithikreeni Da’iman,” calls Damascus“Remember me always”And I do. I long for the soft invitation of the athaan at fajrFloating, beckoning on clear morning

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