M10-Not Yours or Mine but Ours(Denise Arnault) Alishba Ahmad sat at the table squeezed into her small kitchen, her head covered by the hijab, which she wore even though she was alone. There was no need for modesty when she was by herself, but she wore the hijab so often that it did not feel right to be without it.

Only 4’11” tall, she still had no trouble seeing the top of the small table to read the newspaper that she had spread across it. Her cup of steaming tea held down one corner of the paper, the pleasant aroma of jasmine emanating from it. She was deeply concerned about the article in the lower half of the front page, which detailed the lengths to which Christian Nationalists were going, in an attempt to further their agenda in the local schools. The reporter, who the byline indicated had written the story, thought that there would be a protest at the school board meeting that very afternoon.

Messenger Ayesha, stood invisibly behind Alishba. Bending, she whispered into Alishba’s ear, ‘Your voice is as important as anyone else’s voice.’

Alishba wondered if she should go to the meeting. She was small but she did feel strongly about the issue.

‘In this country, even the words of a woman can be heard,’ Messenger Ayesha continued to whisper. This had not been true in Alishba’s native Afghanistan.

She made her mind up and rose to get dressed. The trip to the meeting on the city's mass transit buses would consume most of the time that she had, as well as an uncomfortable percentage of her disposable income.

* * *

The crowd of mostly women in their thirties and forties milled about, some raising and lowering the boldly lettered signs that they carried. They seemed to be waiting for some catalyst. No one spoke above a whisper. The object of their patience finally appeared at the door to the room in which the Central Community School District school board was about to meet, and the energy emanating from the group escalated in an immediate response.

Annette Montesquieu was a very trim middle-aged woman, well dressed in a tweed suit with dark brown hair, which was currently pulled back into a tight French braid. Her intense brown eyes flashed around the room, taking in both her assembled fellow protesters and those other people present.

She saw the signs that her friends were holding up, ‘It’s GODS Plan’ ‘Let the Word be seen!’, and others in the same vein, and nodded more to herself than anyone else. In just a moment, she was to give the speech of her life in defense of a strongly held belief. As she stepped into the center of the group of eight or ten women, she could not be sure of the exact number, she accepted the pats on her back and forearms. All the women were excitedly chatting at once, wishing her success on her venture.

The Chairman of the school board stood up and banged his gavel twice to gain everyone’s attention. “This meeting is officially open,” he declared.

A hush fell temporarily over the audience. It did not last long, as the Chairman asked, “Is there anyone present with business to discuss with the Board?”

The murmurs that had been barely audible, increased dramatically as he looked at the elephant in the room, the group of women sporting their signs. Annette stepped from the crowd and approached the lectern where people addressed the board.

“Mr. Chairman, members of the Board, family and friends,” she began. “I would like to bring up the delay in implementing State Law HB71 in the Central Community School District.”

This statement was greeted with clapping and cheers from her group, accompanied by energetic raising and lowering of their signs.

“This Board will not tolerate theatrics,” the Chairman spoke up, punctuating this statement with more banging of his gavel. As he directed his stern gaze upon the rowdy group of protesters, they slowly quieted down.

Annette was clearly pleased with the support and waited calmly for peace to return to the room, a small smile playing across her lips. Finally, she continued, “I would like to know when the approved posters will be in position in each classroom.”

“Madam Montesquieu,” the Chairman responded. “I am sure that you are aware that the State is awaiting the results from several lawsuits regarding these posters before installing them.”

“I am aware of those legal matters, as you suggest, but the people of Baton Rouge have made their wishes clear, and do not desire to delay,” Annette said. “Our Christian community has the right to go forward with our State’s duly passed law in this matter, without having to wait for endless challenges from the losing side.”

“Your arguments will be considered,” the Chairman continued. “Is there anyone else that would like to speak on this matter?” He asked.

“Excuse me, Mr. Chairman, but I do not just want my request to be considered. I want the State’s law in this matter to be implemented,” Annette continued, ignoring the Chairman’s attempt to move on, obviously prepared for this development.

The room got very quiet as the Chairman considered how best to meet this challenge to his authority. At that moment, the people in the back of the packed audience began to part, seemingly letting someone through. When Annette saw the small woman being admitted, who was wearing a light brown hijab, which blended well with the darker brown cloak which she wore over her shoulders, her reaction was almost immediate.

“Heathen!” She cried out. “Heathen! How dare you interrupt this meeting?”

The noise level of the room shot through the roof. Everyone was speaking at once. Everyone that is except the diminutive woman making her way down the aisle leading to the lectern.

The small Muslim woman held her head erect as she walked calmly through the angry crowd. In spite of the cacophony, she could clearly hear the whisper of the ethereal Messenger closely following her.

‘Fear not, my child. You have the right to be heard in this matter. No harm shall befall you this day,’ Messenger Ayesha said.

“Madam Montesquieu, if you will step aside, there is another speaker to address the Board,” the Chairman said, as Alishba stopped just short of the lectern and waited patiently for her turn.

“No, I will not step aside for this, this blasphemer!” Annette said vehemently. “We are discussing Christian matters here.”

Turning and looking down at the short hijab clad woman before her, she continued, “You have no place in this discussion.” A pin would have been heard if it had fallen in the silence that followed this outburst.

“I will not listen to this non-believer!” She continued obstinately, after a moment, looking back at the Chairman. Her friends started enthusiastically waving their signs again, as the approving shouts began to swell throughout the room.

The flustered Chairman lifted his gavel once more, but let it hang in the air as he attempted to find the words to recover control of the situation. He did not need to…

The room filled with light as Messenger Ayesha became visible against the wall, floating over the heads of the seated Board members. She was resplendent in her golden robes, a blue hijab on her head. The awestruck assemblage was suddenly quiet now, holding their collective breaths.

“This child of God has words to be spoken,” Ayesha said in her resonant voice, easily heard in every corner of the room.

After a moment’s stunned silence, Annette said, “No! No! No!”

People looked from the glowing apparition floating in the back of the room to the glowering woman at the lectern.

“This is no Angel,” she shouted. “Angels don’t wear a hijab! I don’t know what or how this is happening, but this is not right. This abomination is not Christian “

The Chairman lowered his gavel and took his seat, clearly out of his depth.

The interval after Annette’s outburst was not long, but for Messenger Ayesha time did not move in the same linear fashion as it did for the Earthbound. She sent her thoughts out in a call to the realm where Messengers reside when not actively involved with their humans. The call was answered.

Around the perimeter of the room, Messenger after Messenger flashed into view. Their combined luminance was blinding. People initially had to shield their eyes until they could adjust. There seemed to be a Messenger in the garments associated with each of the world’s major religions present.

A Messenger in the flowing robes of the Middle East, with very Jewish features was on one side, while a Hindu Messenger was across the room on the other side in a purple Nehru jacket. A Roman looking Messenger blocked the exit, armor and sword and all! There were others. Six glowing beings now encircled the room.

The Roman spoke into the silence, “We are the voice of your God. Treat others as you would be treated.”

All of the Messengers chimed in, speaking in unison, “This is our way! No person shall be coerced to adhere to any beliefs. All people are placed on this Earth to choose their own paths.”

Annette gave way from the lectern in the face of this show of Devine instruction.

“What have you come to say, my child,” Messenger Ayesha asked, holding her left hand out to the woman in the brown hijab, as Alishba moved into the vacancy created by Annette’s departure.

Looking out from under the folds of her hijab at Annette and her friends, Alishba said, “My God is the same God as your God. Our prophets may differ, but our God is the same one true God.”

Turning back to the lectern, starting slowly and hesitantly, Alishba continued, “Thousands of American patriots have given their lives to ensure the right of everyone here to believe what they want, and to be allowed to say what they believe. One, Sgt. James McCord, gave his life for me when the Taliban would have killed me. The people who formed this great country of ours arrived as immigrants, just as I did, fleeing religious intolerance and murder in their homelands. To practice religious intolerance in this country is not only against the precepts of you own religion but is un-American. The Constitution ensures that no religion shall be placed above others by the government, but rather that religious beliefs are a personal and individual choice. If we were to allow the religious doctrine of one faith to be displayed in a public building then we would have to allow the doctrine of any and all religions to also be displayed, be it Christian, Jewish, Muslim, Satanic or any other.”

Having apparently said what she came to say, Alishba turned and started making her way from the room.

“I am Messenger Michael, called forth to ensure that this woman shall be permitted to speak her truths,” the Roman at the door said drawing forth his sword, holding it high as flames seemed to come from it. The Messenger floated aside to permit Alishba to depart, then continued, “Each of you was put here in this existence to make your choices. You may now do so.”

With that statement, all of the Messengers disappeared at once, leaving the room in comparative darkness as their combined light left with them. As the audience’s eyes began to adjust to the normal luminance provided by the fluorescent lights in the ceiling panels, they each looked around at the others. They knew something momentous had just happened but the details of the beings which had appeared were already fading from their collective memories. Such was the way of things, when Messengers appear before humans. Knowledge of the Messengers fade, but not the information that they convey. The people did remember the powerful message that the immigrant Muslim woman had delivered.

The Chairman finally recovered his aplomb, and banging his gavel again, declared that no further discussion was to be presented and that the meeting was over.

Epilogue:

The School Board did not implement State Law HB71, claiming that it had to await decisions from the various legal arguments before the State Courts.

Alishba went about her life. She did notice that there was less hostility directed towards her when she appeared in public wearing her hijab.

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