Seems logical to me.
Madonn' amia!
Why would anybody want to marry someone who might have a profound religious experience in the middle of the night and saw their head off.
I thought Catholics were not supposed to marry non-Catholics?
I do not know a lot about Catholics please don't bite my head off! :)
Here is a recent story about an American who married a muslim, and lived in Afghanistan:
http://www.meforum.org/article/794
A delicate and diplomatic way to say it.
One should probably extend that recommendation to all non-Muslims.
It would be much more meaningful for the warning to be for Italian women not to marry Muslim men. Because odds are his behavior will change for the worse once married, he will beat you, he will have other wives you weren't told about and you will be treated as a Muslim baby factory. Italian men marrying Muslim women just doesn't happen. The Muslim ummah will not allow a breeding age women to defect. Will not allow a womb to be lost to Islam
I don't think anyone who's really Christian needs to be told this.
Any devoutly reigious person should not marry outside of their Faith. Marriage and raising children is difficult enough with the inevitable small disagreements that come along. This is the last thing you need.
Everybody in the world advised not to marry Muslims. Including Muslims. May they become extinct.
Just duh.
http://www.lauramansfield.com/j/smalltownusa-6.asp
Jihad Comes to Small Town USA: Part 6
by Laura Mansfield
I first made contact with Sandy back in April, when the first Jihad Comes to Small Town USA article was published.
Sandy had emailed me, and she was not happy. She took me to task for implying that duplicity exited in mosques, and insisted that the kind of scene I witnessed in the mosque in Atlanta was an anomaly, rather than a regular occurrence.
She was quite clear in her opinion: “All of this Muslim-bashing is ridiculous. You don’t know what you’re talking about. Either you’re making up this, or you found one bad mosque.”
I emailed Sandy back, and we began a dialog.
We had a lot in common. Like Sandy, I had been married to a Muslim man, and over the course of a decade I had been exposed to some rather serious attempts to convert me to Islam, especially while I was in Cairo. And like Sandy, I had resisted all of the attempts at conversion, and had clung to my Christian faith. (I divorced my Egyptian husband a decade and a half ago when it became apparent he was sinking deep into the depths of radical Islam.)
Sandy told me that she is a registered nurse, working in a critical care unit at a large research hospital. She had been married to her Palestinian Muslim husband for 12 years, and when the marriage broke up four years ago she continued to visit the mosque regularly, for holidays and family life programs.
Their two children, Hussein, 16, and Sarah, 6, attended the Islamic day school affiliated with the mosque, and attended special religious classes on weekends. Although Sandy had never converted to Islam, she felt as if she were a part of the local Islamic community, and encouraged Hussein and Sarah to participate in mosque activities whenever she could.
Sandy was not willing to even consider that Hussein was being exposed to anti-American viewpoints at his school. In fact, one reason Sandy had enrolled Hussein in the Islamic school was to counter the growing anti-American sentiment that had become more and more evident in his father since the two had divorced.
“Because I’m not Muslim, I pretty much leave the religious instruction to my ex-husband and the men at the mosque,” explained Sandy in one of our first emails. “But the men at the mosque are good, God fearing men. I am not really worried about what they are teaching him.”
I emailed Sandy back and asked her to talk to her son about what he was learning in the Islamic school. I suggested that she take a look at the textbooks, and at some of the essays that he was almost certainly writing.
I also suggested that she go spend a day in Sarah’s classroom. I had done a little research, and made a few phone calls, and knew that the first graders in the school Sarah attended were following a curriculum from the Bureau of Islamic and Arabic Education. The BIAE curriculum recommends that the students recite the following pledge each day in classes:
As an American Muslim, I pledge allegiance to ALLAH and His Prophet,
I respect and love my family and my community,
and I dedicate my life to serving the cause of truth and justice.
As an American citizen, with rights and responsibilities,
I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America
And to the republic for which it stands, one nation, Under God,
indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.
It was several weeks before I heard from Sandy again. Sarah’s teacher was reluctant to let Sandy visit in the classroom, because she was concerned about disrupting the students. But she provided Sandy with a copy of the curriculum that she was following in teaching the class.
Sandy emailed the curriculum to me, commented “See, I told you they weren’t like you thought.” Sure enough, the curriculum Sandy emailed to me exuded sweetness and light. What mother wouldn’t want their small child learning such universal virtues such as “responsibility, honesty, thankfulness, fairness and justice, generosity, respect, kindness and care, appreciation of beauty, patience & compassion, courage and determination, citizenship”? It sounds almost Utopian.
Sandy was concerned about the unwillingness of the teacher to have her visit the classroom unannounced, and she took the request to the principal of the school. But the principal backed up the teacher, and said that Sandy’s presence in the classroom would be disruptive to the kids. Since for all practical purposes the school year was over, Sandy reluctantly acquiesced, thinking that in the fall she would pursue it further.
Sandy told me later that in thinking back, her first true real concerns about what her kids were being taught came at a wedding for one of Sandy’s college friends. Her friend, like Sandy, had chosen a husband from a different religion. Sandy’s friend was Episcopalian; she was married a Jewish man. They planned a wedding that incorporated elements from both religions at a nearby hotel.
Sandy and the kids were all excited about the wedding, especially since Sarah was going to be the flower girl. But at the wedding rehearsal, Sarah had run away in tears when she saw the rabbi standing with the minister.
Sandy found Sarah hiding underneath a table in the reception hall, hidden from view by the long tablecloth.
Sandy climbed under the table and sat with Sarah. She tried to persuade Sarah to come out, but Sarah refused. She kept insisting “that man will kill me and mix my blood with his bread”.
Sandy was dumbfounded. She couldn’t imagine where Sarah had gotten that idea. After all, the only two strangers in the room were the minister and the rabbi.
No amount of persuasion could convince Sarah to rejoin the wedding party, and Sandy ended up leaving Sarah with a babysitter going to the wedding alone the following night.
Sandy chalked up the incident to shyness, thinking that perhaps Sarah just had cold feet.
But then something happened that put everything in perspective for Sandy.
A few weeks later, I got a panicked email from Sandy, asking if there was any way she could speak to me by phone. She had included her phone number, so I called her, thinking I was just going to get chewed out again for what Sandy described as Muslim bashing.
But that wasn’t what Sandy wanted to talk about. There had been a decided change in her attitude, and she was seriously concerned about her children.
Sandy described the events of the summer.
Between her job, and the end of the year activities at the school Sandy had pretty much put her concerns about what was going on in Sarah’s classroom out of her mind.
But that only lasted until she took Sarah clothes shopping for summer clothes. In the southern portions of the United States, kids often wear shorts to school during April and May. But in the states surrounding the Great Lakes, it is much cooler, and since Sarah and Hussein were required to wear uniforms to school, Sandy had put off summer clothes shopping until after school was out.
Sandy was really looking forward to shopping. Every year she made it a special day - she would take Hussein and Sarah shopping one on one, and they would have a special day together. The entire family referred to it as “Mommy Time”.
Sandy explained to me how she went through the racks of little girl’s clothing at Gymboree, picking out a couple of sundresses, several pairs of shorts and summer tops, and a three cute little two piece swimsuits for Sarah.
Each year, Sarah was always especially excited about picking out her swimsuit. But this year, as Sandy went through the swimsuit rack, Sarah seemed completely uninterested. Sandy was a little puzzled, but wasn’t concerned. After all, she reasoned, maybe Sarah just didn’t like these swimsuits. She wondered if Sarah had perhaps gotten too old for Gymboree.
But when Sandy took Sarah into the dressing room, she was completely unprepared for the reaction she got from the child. Sarah completely refused to try on any of the clothing Sandy had selected for her.
Sandy at first thought that Sarah might not be feeling well, or might be hungry so she asked the clerk at Gymboree to hold the clothing behind the counter. She and Sarah headed for the food court. Sandy figured that after a kid’s meal from Sarah’s favorite fast food chain, Sarah would be ready to shop again.
But when they went back into Gymboree, as Sandy retrieved the clothing that the clerk was holding, Sarah started to have a temper tantrum. Sandy was more than a little embarrassed. She quickly selected one of the bathing suits, a sundress, and two shorts sets that looked like they would fit Sarah, and handed the clerk her American Express card.
Sandy was totally unprepared for the outburst that exploded from Sarah at that point. Sandy was in tears as she told me what her daughter had screamed in the store: “Mommy I’m not going to wear that. I’m not going to be a whore like you.”
Sandy explained that she got down on the floor, at eye level with her daughter to try and calm her down, but Sarah was hysterical. She kept insisting that she was not going to wear the clothes.
The clerk was standing there, with an look of embarrassment on her face - she wasn’t sure whether to void the sale or not. Sandy signed the credit card slip, picked up Sarah, and went back to the minivan.
Sandy told me later that she wasn’t sure which of them was crying harder.
When they got home, Sandy put Sarah down for a nap. Both mom and daughter needed some time to compose themselves.
Later than evening, over cookies and milk, Sandy asked Sarah where she had learned the word “whore”. But Sarah wasn’t willing to talk about it. “Never mind Mommy” was the only reaction Sandy could get.
Hussein had been at a friend’s house while the girls were out shopping. He got back home while Sarah and Sandy were locking horns over the kitchen table.
As soon as Hussein walked through the door, Sarah jumped up out of the chair and ran into his arms crying. Hussein dropped the baseball gear he was carrying and lifted his little sister in a hug. Sandy watched while Sarah, in tears, whispered frantically into her big brother’s ear.
Sandy told me later she was imagining all sorts of horrible scenarios. Her first thought was that somehow, somewhere, her daughter had been sexually abused, and it was being kept secret from her. As a nurse, Sandy knew that the worst thing she could do at that point was panic. So she sent Sarah up to watch a video.
She decided to try and get answers from Hussein.
But when she approached Hussein, he kept insisting that Sarah was ok. Sandy told him that she was afraid someone had hurt his sister and that if he knew anything he needed to tell her.
After a few minutes, Hussein exploded. “Look, mom. You know where she’s learning this. You’re the one who takes us there. Why are you surprised? You let it happen!”
Wednesday: Hussein’s Story
Note: This is a true story. I have deliberately left out the name of the city where this family lives, and have changed the names of the children at the request of Sandy to protect them from fears that she has regarding her ex-husband and his family. I have verified the facts told to me by Sandy to the best of my ability, and was able to verify the curriculum of the school. I spoke with her college friend, who verified the events that occured at the wedding. I have also spoken with both Sarah and Hussein, and they have verified their mom's story. I have also verified court documents that Sandy provided that also corroborate her account.