celebrated Eid, the holiday marking the end of Ramadan, at a Bat Mitzvah of all places. The day was a whirlwind of transportation and logistics performed in various heights of high heels, but somewhere in there I managed to rejoin the living and eat lunch right there in public in the middle of the day, with everyone around me acting like it was completely normal. It's the small miracles that count the most.

At the reception, M. interrupted my conversation with my long lost relative, the Indian Chief, to guide me outside where the lawn overlooked the flat marsh. There in the distance, about to set behind a silhouetted hill, was the most perfect sliver of crescent moon hung in the inky pinky swath of dusk. In Islam one is encouraged to see for one's own eyes the changing of the months as signified by the new crescent moon, to personally engage with the cosmology of each event. And when one spies it, we can say what the Prophet (SAAS) said:

Ya Hilalun, Rabbee wa Rabbuka Allah — O Moon, my Lord and your Lord are God.