Hana Khan Carries On

by Uzma Jalaluddin

But I am made up of more than my roots; I have grown above ground as well. My branches reach out in different directions. My limbs have faced wind and snow and ice and rain. My leaves open to the sun and close in the dark. I guess what I’m saying is I’m grateful for every new root I have discovered lately, and for every new bud that sprouts, despite everything.

Imagine if someone knocked on the door of your home and demanded you leave. Could you abandon it without fighting?

The first chapter of the Quran is called Surah Al-Fatiha, or “The Opening,” and Muslims recite it with every prayer. One of the verses translates to “Praise be to God, lord of all the worlds.” Worlds, plural. There’s a metaphor in there.

She believed that enduring some hatred was inevitable, that it was the price one paid for living as a minority in a new and sometimes hostile country.

Tell me, Hana, how strong can blood ties remain when they stretch across an ocean?”

You. I choose you.