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          PAS : KE ARAH PEMERINTAHAN ISLAM YANG ADIL
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Subject:
          [Sutera] a stranger in the house (fwd)
     Date:
          Mon, 29 May 2000 13:02:15 +0100 (BST)
     From:
          Munirah Muhtar <[EMAIL PROTECTED]>
 Reply-To:
          [EMAIL PROTECTED]
       To:
          [EMAIL PROTECTED], [EMAIL PROTECTED]





Subject: a stranger in the house

"The Stranger"

"A few months before I was born, my dad met a stranger
who was new to our
small Tennessee town. From the beginning, Dad was
fascinated with this
enchanting newcomer, and soon invited him to live with
our family. The
stranger was quickly accepted and was around to
welcome me into the world a
few months later.

As I grew up I never questioned his place in our family.
In my young mind,
each member had a special niche. My brother, Bill, five
years my senior, was
my example. Fran, my younger sister, gave me an
opportunity to play 'big
brother' and develop the art of teasing. My parents were
complementary
instructors-- Mom taught me to love the word of God,
and Dad taught me to
obey
it.    But the  stranger was our storyteller. He could weave
the most
fascinating tales.  Adventures, mysteries and comedies
were daily
conversations. He could hold our whole family
spell-bound for hours each
evening. If I wanted to know about politics, history, or
science, he knew it

He knew about the past, understood the present, and
seemingly could predict
the future. The pictures he could draw were so life like
that I would often
laugh or cry as I watched. He was like a friend to the
whole family. He took
Dad, Bill and me to our first major league baseball game.
He was always
encouraging us to see the movies and he even made
arrangements to introduce
us
to several movie stars.

The stranger was an incessant talker. Dad didn' t seem to
mind-but sometimes
Mom would quietly get up-- while the rest of us were
enthralled with one of
his stories of faraway places-- go to her room, read her
Bible and pray. I
wonder now if she ever prayed that the stranger would
leave. You see, my dad
ruled our household with certain moral convictions. But
this stranger never
felt obligation to honor them. Profanity, for example, was
not allowed in
our
house-- not from us, from our friends, or adults. Our
longtime visitor,
however, used occasional four letter words that burned
my ears and made Dad
squirm. To my knowledge the stranger was never
confronted.  My dad was a
teatotaler who didn't permit alcohol in his home - not
even for cooking. But
the stranger felt like we needed
exposure and enlightened us to other ways of life. He
offered us beer and
other
alcoholic beverages often.

He made cigarettes look tasty, cigars manly, and pipes
distinguished. He
talked freely (probably too much too freely) about sex.
His comments were
sometimes blatant, sometimes suggestive, and generally
embarrassing.

I know now that my early concepts of the man-woman
relationship were
influenced by the stranger.

As I look back, I believe it was the grace of God that the
stranger did not
influence us more. Time after time he opposed the values
of my parents. Yet
he
was seldom rebuked and never asked to leave. More than
thirty years have
passed since the stranger moved in with the young family
on Morningside
Drive.
He is not nearly so intriguing to my Dad as he was in
those early years. But
if I were to walk into my parents' den today, you would
still see him
sitting
over in a corner,
waiting for someone to listen to him talk and watch him
draw his pictures.
His name you ask?
  "
  "
  "
  "
  "
  "
  "
We called him TV.

It makes you think, doesn't it . . .
_______________________________________________________________
Views expressed on BICNews do not necessarily
represent those
of the editors, the Belfast Islamic Centre or any of our
associated staff. Further distribution of material featured
in
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Thank you to all our subscribers and readers.

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