Recently, I had a “moment” over coffee and croissants with a new Muslim friend. She is from Saudi Arabia, but for now she lives where I do.
The freshly baked, chocolate-filled pastries were delicious. We chatted about more stuff we loved to eat, particularly a rice dish she had recently cooked, called kabsa. Then she wanted to know if I liked lamb, one of her favorite foods. In broken English she lamented its scarcity and how expensive it is in the few stores that carry it. She managed to explain how she and her husband drive to a farm about two hours out of town, where they can purchase good lamb from a farmer who kindly sells to them. Then I watched as my friend’s thoughts inevitably veered toward her Saudi homeland, where her parents and her younger siblings still live. She began to share about her dad.