If Ramadan was a person, she would be the toughest teacher you ever had – the one who had strict rules, gave lots of homework, and drilled you until she was sure you understood the lessons she was trying to teach. Or Ramadan would be your coach who made you train hard, demanding more of you than you thought you could handle, challenging you every day until you mastered the moves or continually beat your previous times.
These are the people who not only believed in the value of what they taught, but even more so, they believed in your capacity for achievement and growth. They worked you hard because they wanted you to succeed. They didn’t just want you to pass their test or win the race, they wanted to change you forever – to transform you into a confident, disciplined and ambitious person.
They wanted you to win. These are the people we feared, obeyed, respected, and eventually loved. These are the people who impacted our lives in untold ways, making us our best selves. We vaguely remember the grueling work and pain of their ways, but we will never forget what we learned about ourselves and how they made us feel.
Similar in every way, Ramadan has been my greatest teacher and coach. Ramadan has returned every year to remind me what I need to do to succeed, and to prove to me that I can do it. In the early years, it was about submitting my will to my Creator’s will. I fasted because the Quran said, “Those of you who see the month shall fast.” (2:185). It was hard, very hard. But I did it. Year after year, I fulfilled the requirements. But Ramadan wasn’t satisfied with mere compliance. There was much more to learn.
I could have cheated. Nobody could have known for sure if I was really fasting. But I didn’t, and that’s when fasting honed my sincerity and integrity. If I were fasting for the people, to fit in or meet social or cultural expectations, I would have cheated all those times when I missed suhoor and started my fast on an empty stomach. It was those days when my sincerity was tested. The Quran says, “Fasting has been prescribed for you as it was prescribed for those before you so that you may be God-conscious” (2:183).
My awareness of God and sincerity to Him increased because of that great teacher, Ramadan. The lessons spilled over into other areas of my life too. As I raised the children, pursued my PhD, and learned how to recite the Quran, I relied on the self-discipline, focus and motivation that Ramadan instilled in me. I knew that if I could fast for an entire month in summer while those around me snacked on ice-cream and quenched their summer thirst, I could do anything – with God’s help.
“It’s not all about you!” said Ramadan. She taught me to think of others, those who thirst for clean water and hunger for regular meals – those who fast not by choice, but because there just isn’t enough. Ramadan taught me to recognize hunger and thirst in others, which is easier when you yourself have experienced it. She taught me to respond to those in need with the compassion of one who has suffered from privation and longing, even if only for a few hours at a time. Ramadan taught me that we are responsible for one another, and that one person can make a difference in the life of another.
My teacher is persistent, preparing lessons for me after decades under her direction. Just when I get comfortable in my routine, Ramadan comes and destroys it, just to prove to me that in flexibility there is strength. Occasionally she challenges my complaints that I’m sick and proves to me that fasting does more good than harm, and that my health improves when I fast. She laughs when I say I’m getting old because she knows that fasting gets easier with age.
Always there to challenge my attitudes, Ramadan keeps me both grounded in reality and open to the possibility of transformation. For great teachers like Ramadan, I am immensely grateful. Grateful that I signed up, and that her tough ways and annual recurrence didn’t allow me to forget a single lesson. Grateful that my understanding of God, self and others has expanded over time. Grateful that I could do it. However, entwined with my gratitude is a sense of humility.
God Almighty extended the opportunity to me – I’ll call it a scholarship – to learn under the great teacher Ramadan. It is His immense kindness and generosity that singled me out from the masses of humanity to answer His call. It is a humbling feeling to be chosen for such an advanced educational course, and even more humbling to know that each one of us has been invited. For all the opportunities that Ramadan promises, it would be silly to refuse.
Courtesy of the TIES Center, whose mission is to empower Kuwait’s expats through social and educational services that promote a positive and productive role in society, and to facilitate opportunities for intra- and interfaith interactions that promote social solidarity. For more information, please call 25231015/6 or e-mail: firstname.lastname@example.org.
By Teresa Lesher