One of the most challenging things about being a trying-to-homeschool stay-at-home mum is managing time effectively. Now that Bear has arrived, I’ve had to stretch myself a little and be a whole lot more creative.

One thing I have learnt to do is to be on the look out for and capitalise on teachable moments. These are often unplanned events that open the door to meaningful discussions. They may reinforce what the child has already learnt or spark off new ideas. The nice thing about these spontaneous learning moments is that they provide a context or real life example for the child so the lesson will leave a lasting impression.

My husband’s varsity mate came to Islamabad for a visit, accompanied by his wife Sameera and 2-year-old daughter Rania. They were such lively folks that we had lot of fun and laughs. A lovely change in our routine! Sameera was a delightful character who regaled us with tales of her escapades in Texas – like a mishap that almost got her hair burnt in a salon. Rania nicknamed my daughter “Aloo” upon hearing that this was the only Urdu word Marz knew and the two shared messy Nutella sandwiches.

They came to see us one last time on the way to the airport before flying home. We shared a few minutes with them mostly talking about how sorry we were that time seemed so short. Just before leaving, Sameera asked for a small favour. She said that her daughter, who was a picky eater, had refused most of her meals that day. She asked if we could make her a Nutella sandwich again.

I rushed to the kitchen and began preparing the sandwich, chuckling as I went about it. ‘Children!’ I thought. ‘The worries they put their mothers through.’ Marz wandered in and asked for a sandwich too. Unfortunately, she was left with the crusty end slices of the loaf, which she disliked – “hard bread” she called them.

I braced myself for a difficult moment… I thought, ‘She is going to insist on the softer slices and I will have a hard time telling her they are for Rania.’ Since I was in a hurry – I didn’t want our guests to be late for their flight – I had to think fast.

Then it hit me… I turned to Mars and told her, “Do you remember what Allah said about how we are to treat our guests?” She nodded and I pressed on, “What are we to do?”

She said, “Honour our guests.”

I then continued, “Do you understand then why we should give Rania the best pieces of bread?”

Alhamdulillah, she understood and a difficult situation was averted. Our guests left happily with their chocolate sandwich and Mars had happy memories of little Rania and how she was able to give her friend a gift.

This is the story that came in so handy during my teachable moment… I hope you enjoy it.

They Honoured Their Guests

Al-Bukhari recorded that Abu Hurayrah said, “A man came to the Prophet and said, ‘O Allah’s Messenger! Poverty has stuck me.’ The Prophet sent a messenger to his wives (to bring something for that man to eat) but they said that they had nothing.

“Then Allah’s Messenger said, ‘Who will invite this person or entertain him as a guest tonight; may Allah grant His mercy to him who does so.’ An Ansari man said, ‘I, O Allah’s Messenger!’ So he took him to his wife and said to her, ‘Entertain the guest of Allah’s Messenger generously.’ She said, ‘By Allah ! We have nothing except the meal for my children.’ He said, ‘Let your children sleep if they ask for supper. Then turn off the lamp and we go to bed tonight while hungry.’ She did what he asked her to do.”

“In the morning the Ansari went to Allah’s Messenger who said, ‘Allah wondered (favorably) or laughed at the action of so-and-so and his wife.’ Then Allah revealed, ‘and they give them preference over themselves even though they were in need of that.’ (Surah al-Hashr:9)”

Al-Bukhari recorded this Hadith in another part of his Sahih. Muslim, At-Tirmidhi, An-Nasa’i collected this Hadith.

In another narration for this Hadith, the Companion’s name was mentioned, it was Abu Talhah Al-Ansari, may Allah be pleased with him.

It was the eve of `Eid and the flat was still messy and dusty. I had just half an hour before Marz’s bed time and I knew that I would nod off with her, so I was desperate to make sure that the apartment was halfway decent before that. Inwardly reproaching myself for having left things at the last minute, I wiped, swept and mopped feverishly.

My two-year-old followed me around, rag and sponge in hand trying to be of some help. Our last stop was the kitchen. She liked it there and now that she was over the “Ummi, what is this?” phase, she often launched into the “Who bought this, Ummi?” mode. This time, though, the chat turned out to be a little different.

“Ummi, who bought this bin?” Maryam asked pointing to the white trash can next to the sink.

I turned briefly and told her, “Your Baba did… He bought it at Walmart in Wisconsin.” I smiled briefly, remembering that Maryam was born there. But there really was no time for walking down memory lane… I continued scouring the sink like there was no tomorrow.

“Ummi, who bought those bottles?” she piped up again, pointing at her milk bottles.

“I did… I bought them for you at Kiddy Palace, remember?” I said, thinking that I really was not in the mood for this conversation.

“Ummi, who bought that oven?” she said pointing to the large oven in the corner.

“Oh, I don’t know Maryam. That belongs to the flat owner. We are just renting here, you know.” I really had too much to do.

“Ummi, who bought that small oven?” she asked unrelentingly, pointing to the small grill oven my mother had bought.

“Jiddah bought it for us because that big oven does not work…”

“Ummi…” I bit my tongue and stopped myself from telling her to hush. “Ummi, who bought that microwave oven?”

I stopped wiping and any annoyance I felt at her incessant questions faded away right then and there. My father had bought us the microwave oven when we set up house here in Singapore. It was going to be my second `Eid without him … he had died a couple of weeks short of the previous `Eid.

“Jidd bought it, Marz.” Strangely enough, the little live wire fell silent too.

When she did speak, she said earnestly, “I love Jidd, Ummi.”

“I love him too.”

“I want to hug Jidd.”

“Well, make du`aa, OK? inshaa Allah we can all see and hug Jidd in Jannah.”

“Ummi?”

“Yes, Marz?”

“Where is Jannah?”

I dropped the rag and picked her up… the house could wait.