Much of my posts have been about my son. My first born, my daughter Naimah, was spoken of but no exclusive entry of hers exists. So while I am in this mood of reflection and I find myself with some time. This blog post is dedicated to her.
I was asked what I wanted, a boy or a girl. This was a time when I had begun to learn more about my deen and it's stance on daughters. So I replied I want a daughter, partially because I can see that there exists even within my culture a preference for boys. I have no preference but in this case I made dua for a daughter.
For those who are interested, this is what the beloved Prophet (sallAllahu alayhi wassalam) has to say: Jabir ibn 'Abdullah reported that the Messenger of Allah, may Allah bless him and grant him peace, said, "Anyone who has three daughters and provides for them, clothes them and shows mercy to them will definitely enter the Garden." A man from the people said, "And two daughters, Messenger of Allah?" He said, "And two." See more in Al-Adab al-Mufrad Al-Bukhari
Alhamdulillah, my dua was answered and in May 1999, my daughter was born. I will never forget that day. This little being entered my world. This life entrusted to me, a trust that I could not take lightly. She was so cute, beautiful and had this cheeky glint in her eye. We named her Naimah Tasnim (Meaning: Tranquility & fountain of paradise).
That cheekiness didn't disappear as she grew older. I remember when I used to go into sajdah, she would sit on my legs preventing me from rising. It used to give me a sense of comfort knowing that she was close. She used to sit with me, often on belly because it was larger back then.
I loved those hugs and kisses, holding her in my arms and playing with her. She used to enjoy sitting on my stomach in the mornings and I would pretend to be a car. She would press imaginary buttons on my chest and I would make funny car noises.
I remember she used to look at me cheekily and reach for the stereo, which was low enough to touch. She would wait until I was looking and reach for it so that I could tell her "no!".
As she learned to speak, she was like a babbling brook. A precocious child whose vocabulary seemed to be better then most children at her age. Talking non-stop to her aunts and uncles.
Time has flown too fast. There are some things she takes after me, her love of books and reading. Something I hope to inculcate.
She is now on the cusp of being a teenager, a young woman. The fears that brings a father is well understood by all who have daughters.
I don't know if she knows how precious she is to me, how beautiful she is and as her father I will always be proud of her. Now that she is older, her brother Ibrahim dominates us all - including her of course. I hope she knows that she will always be special to me and that she is never second best.
I will never forget those precious moments, in her mothers womb, when she used to respond to my touch by kicking eagerly. I am still amazed today when I look at her, almost grown, that she is mine. A true gift from Allah subhana wa ta'ala.
And staying with the poetry theme, here is one that expresses how I feel.
PRECIOUS DAUGHTERS
A man can’t describe
In the words on a page,
The treasure and pleasure
He feels in this age,
Of the gift he calls a daughter,
Sent from Heaven to Earth.
And the joy she will bring him
From the moment of her birth.
He knows she is precious
From her very first breath.
And he knows down the road
He’ll be put to the test.
But his heart fills with pride,
When she enters the room,
And gives him a smile
That can drive away gloom.
They wrap you around their fingers,
And you’ll lose your heart you know.
You’ll find it in her tiny hands,
So you’re glad to let it go!
You peer into her future
As you rock her in your lap.
The two of you will always enjoy
These peaceful loving naps!
I am so proud of
What she has become.
A beautiful woman,
Fit for any man’s son.
A beauty that’s deeper
Than the skin on her face.
As beauty grows from the inside,
With poise, charm, and grace.
Her mother brags of her
With pride in her voice.
If daughters were chosen,
She’d have been our first choice.
You’ll never go lacking,
For hope, prayers, and love.
As we know now and always,
She is God’s gift from above!
Robert Edgar Burns
I was asked what I wanted, a boy or a girl. This was a time when I had begun to learn more about my deen and it's stance on daughters. So I replied I want a daughter, partially because I can see that there exists even within my culture a preference for boys. I have no preference but in this case I made dua for a daughter.
For those who are interested, this is what the beloved Prophet (sallAllahu alayhi wassalam) has to say: Jabir ibn 'Abdullah reported that the Messenger of Allah, may Allah bless him and grant him peace, said, "Anyone who has three daughters and provides for them, clothes them and shows mercy to them will definitely enter the Garden." A man from the people said, "And two daughters, Messenger of Allah?" He said, "And two." See more in Al-Adab al-Mufrad Al-Bukhari
Alhamdulillah, my dua was answered and in May 1999, my daughter was born. I will never forget that day. This little being entered my world. This life entrusted to me, a trust that I could not take lightly. She was so cute, beautiful and had this cheeky glint in her eye. We named her Naimah Tasnim (Meaning: Tranquility & fountain of paradise).
That cheekiness didn't disappear as she grew older. I remember when I used to go into sajdah, she would sit on my legs preventing me from rising. It used to give me a sense of comfort knowing that she was close. She used to sit with me, often on belly because it was larger back then.
I loved those hugs and kisses, holding her in my arms and playing with her. She used to enjoy sitting on my stomach in the mornings and I would pretend to be a car. She would press imaginary buttons on my chest and I would make funny car noises.
I remember she used to look at me cheekily and reach for the stereo, which was low enough to touch. She would wait until I was looking and reach for it so that I could tell her "no!".
As she learned to speak, she was like a babbling brook. A precocious child whose vocabulary seemed to be better then most children at her age. Talking non-stop to her aunts and uncles.
Time has flown too fast. There are some things she takes after me, her love of books and reading. Something I hope to inculcate.
She is now on the cusp of being a teenager, a young woman. The fears that brings a father is well understood by all who have daughters.
I don't know if she knows how precious she is to me, how beautiful she is and as her father I will always be proud of her. Now that she is older, her brother Ibrahim dominates us all - including her of course. I hope she knows that she will always be special to me and that she is never second best.
I will never forget those precious moments, in her mothers womb, when she used to respond to my touch by kicking eagerly. I am still amazed today when I look at her, almost grown, that she is mine. A true gift from Allah subhana wa ta'ala.
And staying with the poetry theme, here is one that expresses how I feel.
PRECIOUS DAUGHTERS
A man can’t describe
In the words on a page,
The treasure and pleasure
He feels in this age,
Of the gift he calls a daughter,
Sent from Heaven to Earth.
And the joy she will bring him
From the moment of her birth.
He knows she is precious
From her very first breath.
And he knows down the road
He’ll be put to the test.
But his heart fills with pride,
When she enters the room,
And gives him a smile
That can drive away gloom.
They wrap you around their fingers,
And you’ll lose your heart you know.
You’ll find it in her tiny hands,
So you’re glad to let it go!
You peer into her future
As you rock her in your lap.
The two of you will always enjoy
These peaceful loving naps!
I am so proud of
What she has become.
A beautiful woman,
Fit for any man’s son.
A beauty that’s deeper
Than the skin on her face.
As beauty grows from the inside,
With poise, charm, and grace.
Her mother brags of her
With pride in her voice.
If daughters were chosen,
She’d have been our first choice.
You’ll never go lacking,
For hope, prayers, and love.
As we know now and always,
She is God’s gift from above!
Robert Edgar Burns
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