A Muslim's Romantic Journey

Chapter 60.

Yusuf's POV

I shouldn't have had any doubt. Of course everything happens for a reason. I wouldn't have had this job as a teacher if it weren't for losing my old job. No matter how much knowledge we had of Islam, faith varied. People thought that I, an alim, a student of knowledge who studied for seven years, would have more faith. Instead my wife had more faith and kept me going.

Even Javed to some extent had more faith. He had a new idea that if he kept praying for a good pure wife, he would get one. I had no right to say whether he would get one, should get one, or deserved one. That was only for Allah to know.

I wasn't qualified to become an actual teacher who taught the national curriculum. My job was to teach the Qur'an to young students. I thought it would be easy until I actually had my first day.

"Miss!" I didn't realize the kids I would be teaching were this young.

"It's sir." I corrected the boy.

"Miss sir!" I had to suppress my laughter.

"You can call me Mr Suleiman or sir." I told him. He looked at me blankly before he began waving his hand around in the air. "What is it?" I asked him.

"I'm thirsty." I stared in confusion.

"Do you have any water with you?"

"We're not allowed." Well that was a silly rule.

"Where can you drink water from?" I asked.

"The fountain obviously." I bit my tongue to stop a sarcastic comment from leaving my lips.

"Be back in five minutes. Not a second longer." I continued hearing the Arabic alphabet from the boy sitting in front of me.

"Sir! Sir!" A little girl on the other side of the class had her hand up, waving it around urgently.

"Yes?"

"Sir," She began. "You know, yesterday I went to a wedding." What? She began talking to me about a wedding. After what seemed like a long time, she came towards the end of her story. "And I said to them, a girl's not allowed to show her hair to men outside the family. I told them it was haraam." She looked at me expectantly while I sat in silence. I was about to tell her that her story was nice and move on but a better idea came to mind.

"What's your name?" I asked,

"Tahira," She replied back and I noticed then that she was seeking my approval.

"Thank you for sharing that Tahira, but next time, wait until the class is over to tell stories, okay?" Her face fell and I felt bad.

"Okay." She replied embarrassed. I wondered if I should give her a sticker to make her happy. Yes, I would give her a sticker.

When it was her turn to read to me, I praised her and gave her a sticker. It worked and she proudly stuck it on her little hijab, grinning up at me.

I had other classes with slightly older kids. They were a bit better but I also encountered a few troubled children. I hadn't lost my temper yet but I felt I would blow quite soon. Children were hard work!

I got home before Safia. I wanted to make us something nice for dinner but the cupboards were nearly empty. I had to wait for my first pay. Usually Safia and I went shopping for necessities together but I decided I'd go without her. I really needed to.

Every month, I put money aside for charity as the Prophet said charity does not decrease wealth. Rather it aided wealth. Allah says 'O son of Adam, spend and I shall spend on you.' I had felt this being proven in the past. The more I gave, the more I received. This time it was different because my trust was lacking. But as I was building on the belief that Allah will help me, I felt that I was to receive wealth soon. Just enough to get by a little easier.