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“’Twas the night before Christmas … The children were nestled all snug in their beds while visions of sugarplums danced in their heads.” Those firsts words from Clement Moore’s classic poem, “Twas the Night Before Christmas,” gives a lot of us happy memories.

What concerns occupy the mind of an elementary school student?

I remember worrying about spelling tests, losing lunch money and heading home again with the knees ripped out of my pants after a tumble on the blacktop playground.

I never recall worrying about a gunman shooting up the classroom. Yet I do recall complex and confusing thoughts about aged men in black cloaks busting into the building to take our teacher away.

White snow fell gently and quietly on the ground. Lights strewn around the front porch looked like miniscule bright stars which had fallen from the sky. A fully decorated tree stood proudly in the window as wrapped presents lay lazily underneath.

A scene such as this was more than common in most homes back in the 1970s. But this was no ordinary home: This was a Muslim home, my home. 

Have you ever noticed how much food there is around Christmas? Everywhere you look and even in the great classic movies — tables of food and desserts. 

I probably notice food a little more than most people because of my work, but if you take a minute to look around, it won’t be long before you start noticing how your office, bank and other places turn into a giant cruise ship buffet the next couple days.