“What do you teach, Nada?” Mom asked.“Reading to what would be about first grade; girls who are six or seven.”“Mom,” I said. “Can I show...Fatimah my room?”“Nada, what do you think?” Mom asked.“Where are the men?” Fatimah’s mom asked.“In my husband’s study.”“Fatimah, you know the rules,” Nada said. “Go ahead.”I got up and Fatimah got up and followed me out of the room.“What did she mean about rules?” I asked.“I’m not permitted to be around men or boys without my father or brother with me.”“Whoa!. Instead of a glorious meal, when Daddy arrived home from work he found his little girl in tears, distraught over her culinary failure. I guess Daddy truly and unequivocally loved me, and a bad dinner would not cause him to do anything but console me. After comforting hugs and soothing words, Daddy insisted that we sit down and eat the dinner. He gallantly tried to swallow the ill prepared food, and said, “It isn’t really that bad.” The involuntary expressions on his face told me he lied to. More

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