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Mental Toughness, Girl Scout Badges, and Du’as …

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“Praying-for-Forgiveness”

by Muhammad Ali

My mother had no tolerance for my crying.

If anyone looks at Anjuelle, she cries,” was how she described me.

She wanted to instill in me a mental toughness–what she had.

I was not going for it.

And so I cried.

I took my seat amid the group of girls that were my fellow scouts.

The ceremony began.
My mother, one of the den mothers stood at the head of the room with the other den mothers and announced the opening of the ceremony.

I wiped my face, but more tears came.

Why was a crying?

I cannot recall, only that an evening that should have left me and my mother feeling proud had descending into a hell of emotions.

We had argued in the car during the drive to the service.

I felt alone that no one understood and was on my side.

This formed what I realize now was a theme in my life, that of my mother appearing not unlike the enemy of girls that many of us women faced during pre-teen and adolescent years.

That the person who should have been my ally wore the face of the enemy was excruciatinI often wanted to die.

I wished for that this night of the Girl Scout Badge Ceremony.

A den mother called my name. I stood and walked towards the front.

Still crying, I realize now that I embarrassed my mother.

She slapped me, pulled my hair, long at the time and ushered me to the door and outside the social hall.

You will not do this to me! You will not!” she declared.

Still I cried, began to sob. She slapped me again.

My face and cheeks ran hot.

A third time her hand hit my face.

And then …

During the end of my prayer I thought of how I have not returned home since right after my mother died in 1996.

Of course none of the members of my family of origin remain, my father and brother having died two decades before my mother.

My mother’s death liberated me to do as I wish, never see home again. Reaching the end of my du’a, personal prayer, and recalling the full scene of the Girl Scout Badge Ceremony I realize now why I have not returned home since my mother’s death in 1996.

I do not want to remember that which I wish to be. And remain lost.

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