| Here
you will find information about our daily life as a Muslim in Canada, small stories,
articles about leading a healthy life, recipes, articles about halal (permissible)
and haram (prohibited) things.
Poverty
in Canada, and Nova Scotia, What you can do? Wise
stories
Poverty
in Canada
How about Nova Scotia?
What
you can do?
Poverty in Canada
- 15% of all persons in Canada were living in poverty in 1990
- By 1999,
the proportion of persons in Canada had increased to 16.2%
- There were
an estimated 4,886,000 persons living in poverty in 1999
- 1,298,000 were
children under the age of 18
- Poverty increased throughout Canada in the
early 1990s, but more so in metropolitan areas. Between 1990 and 1995, poor populations
in metropolitan areas grew by 33.8 per cent, compared to 18.2 per cent outside
metropolitan areas
- Cities in Québec tended to have the highest
poverty rates, while cities in southern Ontario tended to have the lowest rates.
Montréal had the highest poverty rate of all cities and Oakville had the
lowest
- Poverty rates varied within the same metropolitan area. For example,
within the metropolitan area of Toronto, the poverty rate in the city of Toronto
was 27.6 per cent, compared to Oakville's rate of 9.9 per cent
- The number
of neighbourhoods in Canada with high concentrations of poverty increased between
1980 and 1995. Three-fifths (60.0 per cent) of high-poverty neighbourhoods were
located in Montréal and Toronto
- Certain population groups - such
as recent immigrants, single parents, Aboriginal people and elderly women - were
more likely than others to be poor. For example, while the average poverty rate
among all city residents was 24.5 per cent, the poverty rate among Aboriginal
people living in urban areas was 55.6 per cent
- The average income of poor
families with working-age members was $14,500, only one-quarter the average income
of all families with working-age members
- 30% of users at the Toronto
Daily Bread Food Bank are Muslims
- 9 % more Torontonians use Food
Banks
Source: www.ccsd.ca 
How about Nova Scotia?
For statistics see: www.feednovascotia.ca
What
can you do: It is our duty as Muslims to show that we care about our
community.
Maybe you can come up with some Idea's of your own to help poor
people, Muslims and non-Muslims alike. As an example, read what Young
Muslims Canada (in Toronto) are organising in their community. Your
Local Food bank www.feednovascotia.ca
needs people to donate nonperishable food items to help the needy in their community.
What better way to thank Allah (SWT) for His immense amount of blessings, than
to help the needy and poor in your own community! Remember "Even
a smile is charity"
FOOD
DONATIONS
FEED NOVA SCOTIA distributes food to over 145 agencies across
Nova Scotia. Your donation of food means someone who would otherwise go without,
will have a meal tonight. Drop-off Locations In HRM:
All Sobeys
locations
Participating Atlantic Superstores:
Young Street
South
Centre Mall
Bayers Lake Industrial Park
Bedford Place Mall
Sackville
Cole Harbour
Portland Street
Porters Lake
Joseph Howe IGA
- Wyse Road COSTCO Metro Radio Group - 2900 Agricola St., Halifax
(Q104/Classic 96.5FM/C100/The Team 920/KIXX 780) FEED NOVA SCOTIA
213
Bedford Highway, Halifax Drop-off Locations Outside of HRM: Any
Sobeys or Superstore location where there is a food bank bin. Prioritized
Shopping List:
Canned Meat & Fish
Peanut Butter
Baked Beans
Canned/Powdered Milk
Macaroni & Cheese
Canned Stew
Canned
Pasta & Soup
Dried Pasta, Noodles & Rice
Pasta/Meat Sauce
Canned Fruit
Breakfast Cereal
Baking Supplies
VOLUNTEERING
FEED NOVA
SCOTIA needs volunteers who are energetic and dedicated team players to help us
achieve our goal to alleviate hunger. We have a screening process that each and
every potential volunteer must complete. The first step in becoming a volunteer
is to attend one of the volunteer information sessions.
If you are
interested in attending the next information session, please contact the Volunteer
Administrator at 457-1900 or email volunteer@feednovascotia.ca
Courtesy:
YoungMuslimsCanada
www.metrofoodbank.org
www.islamonline.net
www.ccsd.ca
A
story about Salaat
He remembered his grandmother's warning about
praying on time: "My son, you shouldn't leave prayer to this late time".
His grandmother's age was 70 but whenever she heard the Adhan, she got up like
an arrow and performed Salah. He, however could never win over his ego to get
up and pray. Whatever he did, his Salah was always the last to be offered and
he prayed it quickly to get it in on time. Thinking of this, he got up
and realized that there were only 15 minutes left before Salat-ul Isha. He quickly
made Wudhu and performed Salat-ul Maghrib. While making Tasbih, he again remembered
his grandmother and was embarrassed by how he had prayed. His grandmother prayed
with such tranquility and peace.
He began making Dua and went down to
make Sajdah and stayed like that for a while. He had been at school all day and
was tired, so tired. He awoke abruptly to the sound of noise and shouting.
He was sweating profusely. He looked around. It was very crowded. Every direction
he looked in was filled with people. Some stood frozen looking around, some were
running left and right and some were on their knees with their heads in their
hands just waiting.
Pure fear and apprehension filled him as he realized
where he was. His heart was about to burst. It was the Day of Judgment. When he
was alive, he had heard many things about the questioning on the Day of Judgment,
but that seemed so long ago. Could this be something his mind made up? No, the
wait and the fear were so great that he could not have imagined this.
The interrogation was still going on. He began moving frantically from people
to people to ask if his name had been called. No one could answer him. All of
a sudden his name was called and the crowd split into two and made a passageway
for him.
Two angels grabbed his arms and led him forward. He walked
with unknowing eyes through the crowd. The angels brought him to the center and
left him there. His head was bent down and his whole life was passing in front
of his eyes like a movie. He opened his eyes but saw only another world.
The people were all helping others. He saw his father running from one lecture
to the other, spending his wealth in the way of Islam. His mother invited guests
to their house and one table was being set while the other was being cleared.
He pleaded his case, "I too was always on this path. I helped others. I spread
the word of Allah. I performed my Salah. I fasted in the month of Ramadan. Whatever
Allah ordered us to do, I did. Whatever he ordered us not to do, I did not."
He began to cry and think about how much he loved Allah.
He knew that
whatever he had done in life would be less than what Allah deserved and his only
protector was Allah.
He was sweating like never before and was shaking
all over. His eyes were fixed on the scale, waiting for the final decision. At
last, the decision was made. The two angels with sheets of paper in their hands,
turned to the crowd. His legs felt like they were going to collapse. He closed
his eyes as they began to read the names of those people who were to enter Jahannam.
His name was read first. He fell on his knees and yelled that
this couldn't be, "How could I go to Jahannam? I served others all my life,
I spread the word of Allah to others". His eyes had become blurry and he
was shaking with sweat. The two angels took him by the arms. As his feet dragged,
they went through the crowd and advanced toward the blazing flames of Jahannam.
He was yelling and wondered if there was any person who was going to
help him. He was yelling of all the good deeds he had done, how he had helped
his father, his fasts, prayers, the Qur'an that he read, he was asking if none
of them would help him. The Jahannam angels continued to drag him.
They
had gotten closer to the Hellfire. He looked back and these were his last pleas.
Had not Rasulullah [saw] said, "How clean would a person be who bathes in
a river five times a day, so too does the Salah performed five times cleanse someone
of their sins"? He began yelling, "My prayers? my prayers? my
prayers." The two angels did not stop, and they came to the edge of the abyss
of Jahannam. The flames of the fire were burning his face. He looked back one
last time, but his eyes were dry of hope and he had nothing left in him.
One of the angels pushed him in. He found himself in the air and falling
towards the flames. He had just fallen five or six feet when a hand grabbed him
by the arm and pulled him back.
He lifted his head and saw an old man
with a long white beard. He wiped some dust off himself and asked him, "Who
are you?" The old man replied, "I am your prayers". "Why are
you so late! I was almost in the Fire! You rescued me at the last minute before
I fell in".
The old man smiled and shook his head, "You always
performed me at the last minute, did you forget?"
At that instant,
he blinked and lifted his head from Sajdah. He was in a sweat. He listened to
the voices coming from outside. He heard the adhan for Salat-ul Isha. He got up
quickly and went to perform Wudhu.
The
Room In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found
myself in a room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall
covered with small indexcard files. They were like the ones in libraries that
list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which
stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had
very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch
my attention was one that read "People I Have Liked." I opened it and
began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I
recognized the names written on each one.
And then without being told, I
knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a
crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment,
big and small, in a detail my memory could not match. A sense of wonder and curiosity,
coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring
their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and
regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.
A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I
Have Betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird.
"Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I Have
Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed At." Some were almost hilarious
in their exactness: "Things I've Yelled at My Brothers." Others
I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger," "Things
I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised
by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer
than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived.
Could it be possible that I had the time in my 30 years to write each of these
thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each
was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature. When
I pulled out the file marked "Songs I Have Listened To," I realized
the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet
after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed,
not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of time I knew
that file represented. When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts,"
I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing
to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I
felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal
rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: "No one must ever see these
cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In
an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty
it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the
floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a
card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and
utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against
the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it. The
title bore "People that I Have Taught About Allah". The handle was brighter
than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small
box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards
it contained on one hand. And then the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs
so deep that the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my
knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the over-whelming shame of it all.
The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever
know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.
This
story was originally written for a Christian audience by Joshua Harris, in his
book "I Kissed Dating Goodbye".
from: themodernreligion.com
Ayesha's
Pearls The cheerful little girl with bouncy golden curls
was almost five. Waitingwith her mother at the checkout stand, she saw them, a
circle of glistening white pearls in a pink foil box. "Oh please, Mommy.
Can I have them? Please, Mommy, please?" Quickly the mother checked
the back of the little foil box and then looked back into the pleading blue eyes
of her little girl's upturned face. "A dollar ninety-five. That's almost
$2.00. If you really want them, I'll think of some extra chores for you and in
no time you can save enough money to buy them for yourself.Eidonly a week away
and you might get another crisp dollar bill from Grandma." As soon
as Aisha got home, she emptied her penny bank and counted out 17 pennies. After
dinner, she did more than her share of chores and she went to the neighbour and
asked Aunty Jamshed if she could pick dandelions for ten cents. OnEid-ul-Fitr
, Grandma did give her another new dollar bill and at last she had enough money
to buy the necklace. Aisha loved her pearls. They made her feel dressed
up and grown up. She wore them everywhere, Sunday madressa classes, kindergarten,
even to bed. The only time she took them off was when she went swimming or had
a bubble bath. Mother said if they got wet, they might turn her neck green. Aisha
had a very loving daddy and every night when she was ready for bed, he would stop
whatever he was doing and come upstairs to read her a story from the Quraan. One
night as he finished the story, he asked Aisha , "Do you love me?" "Oh
yes, daddy. You know that I love you." "Then give me your pearls."
"Oh, daddy, not my pearls. But you can have Princess, the whiteshell
from my collection, the one with the pinkshades . Remember, daddy? The one you
gave me. She's my very favourite." "That's okay, Aisha, daddy loves
you. Allah-hafez." And he brushed her cheek with a kiss. About a week
later, after the story time, Aisha's daddy asked again, "Do you love me?"
"Daddy, you know I love you." "Then give me your pearls."
"Oh Daddy, not my pearls. But you can have my baby doll. The brand new one
I got forbeing good . She is beautiful and you can have the yellow blanket that
matches her sleeper. "That's okay. Sleep well. May Allah bless you &
protect you, Aisha. Daddy loves you." And as always, he brushed her cheek
with a gentle kiss. A few nights later when her daddy came in, Aisha was
sitting on her bed with her legs crossed Indian-style. As he came close, he noticed
her chin was trembling and one silent tear rolled down her cheek. "What
is it, Aisha? What's the matter?" Aisha didn't say anything but lifted her
little hand up to her daddy. And when she opened it, there was her little pearl
necklace. With a little quiver, she finally said, "Here, daddy, this is for
you." With tears gathering in his own eyes, Aisha's daddy reached out with
one hand to take the cheap necklace, and with the other hand he reached into his
pocket and pulled out a blue velvet case with a strand of genuine pearls and gave
them to Aisha. He had them all the time. He was just waiting for her to
give up the cheap stuff so he could give her the genuine treasure.
So it is with our Allah Almighty. He is waiting for us to give up the cheap things
in our lives so that he can give us beautiful treasures.
Isn't Allah great?
Are you holding onto things that Allah wants you to let go of? Are you
holding on to harmful or unnecessary partners, relationships, habits and activities
that you have come so attached to that it seems impossible to let go? Sometimes
it is so hard to see what is in the other hand but do believe this one thing ...
.....Allah will never take away something without giving you something
better in its place.
Author unknown
The
Mayonnaise Jar and Coffee When things in your
life seem almost too much to handle, when 24 hours in a day are not enough, remember
the mayonnaise jar .... and the coffee. A professor stood before his philosophy
class and had some items in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly, he
picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with
golf balls. He then asked the students if the jar was full.. They agreed that
it was. So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them
into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles rolled into the open areas
between the golf balls. He then asked the students again if the jar was full.
They agreed it was. The professor next picked up a box of sand and poured
it into the jar.
Of course, the sand filled up everything else. He asked
once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous "yes."
The professor then produced two cups of coffee from under the table and
poured the entire contents into the jar, effectively filling the empty space between
the sand. The students laughed. "Now," said the professor, as
the laughter subsided,
"I want you to recognize that this jar represents
your life. The golf balls are the important things-God, family, your children,
your health, your friends, and your favorite passions/things that if everything
else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.
The
pebbles are the other things that matter like your job, your house and your car.
The sand is everything else - the small stuff. "If you put the sand
into the jar first," he continued, "there is no room for the pebbles
or the golf balls. The same goes for life. If you spend all your time and energy
on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important.
Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness.. Play with your
children. Take time to get medical checkups. Take your wife/husband/kids out to
inner. Maybe even play another 18. There's always time to clean the house and
fix the disposal. Take care of the golf balls first, the things that really matter.
Set your priorities. The rest is just sand." One of the students raised
her hand and inquired what the coffee represented. The professor smiled.
"I'm glad you asked. It just goes to show you that no matter how full your
life may seem, there's always room for a couple of cups of coffee with a friend."
Author unknown
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