Reporter’s Notebook: In Islam, a day of joy and sacrifice

You might not feel the celebration of Eid ul-Adha here, but in Egypt, where I grew up, Eid ul-Adha is a big deal. In fact, it’s as big a deal as Christmas in America.

Eid ul-Adha, or “festival of sacrifice,” is a celebration that marks the end of the yearly pilgrimage to Mecca, known to Muslims as Hajj. Muslims from around the world end Hajj with communal prayers, festivities, money, gifts and distribution of meat to the needy. Eid celebration was held Friday morning at the Islamic Educational Center of Orange County in Costa Mesa and all mosques throughout Orange County and the world.

Each year, about 2 million Muslims visit Mecca for Hajj, which is the fifth pillar of Islam, something many Muslims aspire to do.

Hajj is the most important ritual of Islam, and it revolves around the Prophet Abraham, his wife, Hager, and son Ishmael’s challenges and sacrifices. Muslims are asked to perform Hajj if they are physically and financially capable.

This year, my mom, Shadia, whose first name is my last, was lucky enough to go to Hajj. She wanted to do this for so long, and this year she finally had the chance to do it, something I’m very happy about. She left to Saudi Arabia on Nov. 13 and will return Monday.

But I’m not done telling you about Eid ul-Adha yet, one of my happiest childhood memories. I remember vividly each year the night before Eid as I waited eagerly to wear my new clothes, shoes and handbag and play with my friends all day for four days in a row. Then in the morning, I woke up to the sound of Takberat, or chants, that I could hear from every direction and I knew that Eid was finally here. I also remember the time when my mom took me to buy new clothes for Eid.

When I think about it, I know I was a lucky kid, unlike many other children, who never had even half of what I had.

This brings me to some of the lessons learned from the Prophet Abraham and why we celebrate.

Muslims believe that God wanted to test Prophet Abraham’s faith in him. So he asked him to sacrifice his son Ishmael, which was undoubtedly painful for Abraham. But his faith in God was strong, and he would not disobey him and he told his son it was something he had to do. Ishmael agreed. But before sacrificing Ishmael, God presented the prophet with an animal and asked him to sacrifice it instead. In the Islamic teachings, God asks Muslims to remember the prophet’s sacrifice, and Muslims do. When I was a little girl, every year before Hajj ended and before Eid came, a sheep was my seasonal pet. I fed it, pet it and became its friend for about a week or so. Then it was gone.

But for a good cause.

Thousands, if not millions, of sheep, cows, and even camels, are sacrificed on Eid ul-Adha and are distributed among family members, friends and to the poor. Muslims are required to give 1/3 of their sacrifices to the poor, 1/3 to friends and acquaintances and the last 1/3 to be shared among themselves and their family members. As a kid, I was sent to distribute meat on the first day of Eid. I don’t exactly remember if I complained about it. But I don’t see why I would have: It was just part of Eid and something I grew up with. As an adult, when Eid ul-Adha comes, I think about all of the sheep, cows and camels that get sacrificed, and I pray that no child goes to bed hungry, at least around this time of the year.

And then there is Eidya. In America, gifts are exchanged for the holidays. But in Egypt, well, you give money instead of gifts. It’s called Eidya, and I collected Eidya like it’s nobody’s business. I made bank — what I thought was bank as a kid — getting Eidya from my mom, grandma, aunt, six uncles and many more relatives.

Now that I’m older, Eidya doesn’t come that easy. And here’s my argument: Just because I have a college degree, a career job, can take care of myself, and am about to earn my master’s, does not mean I’m no longer a kid. I’m still a kid to somebody, aren’t I? But there’s someone who always gives me Eidya. That’s my mom, and she will when she comes home on Monday.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to collect Eidya from the rest of my family members, or try to.