The Magic Word

Layth loved basketball. Well, he loved the idea of basketball. Whether the ball actually went in was a different story.

The ball hit the backboard. It hit the rim. It hit the garage door. Then it rolled sadly into the bushes.

“Don’t forget to say Bismillah!” called Layan from the doorway, smiling. Layth pretended not to hear.

He tried again. The ball flew in a perfect arc - in the completely wrong direction - and bonked him right on top of his head.

“I don’t want to play anymore!” Layth stomped inside, leaves in his hair, ball tucked under his arm.

In the middle of his bedroom sat a little tent — cream canvas, twinkling fairy lights.

Layth crawled inside, feeling confused and sad.

…and then the tent began to glow.

The flap opened…and Layth crawled out into the Treehouse.

Three friends were waiting for him. Sir Jad the squirrel, always ready with an opinion. KitKat the kitten, nearly always dozing. And Sofia, small, serious and very, very wise.

Layth flopped onto a beanbag. “She kept telling me what to do.”

“LAYTH!” cried Sir Jad. “Don’t listen to her! That basket was clearly broken. Faulty equipment! Not your fault at all.”

Sofia cleared her tiny throat. It was an impressively loud throat-clear for such a small bird. "Layth, what did Layan actually say to you?”

“She said…” Layth picked at a loose thread on the beanbag, “…to say Bismillah.”

Sofia jumped onto the tree stump.

“Bismillah means in the name of Allah. We say it before we start something.”

She tilted her head, thinking. “It’s like…a tiny way of saying I’m not alone. I’m starting this together with the One who made me.”

KitKat opened both eyes all the way. “Your sister wasn’t telling you what to do, Layth.”

She stretched slowly, then padded over and nuzzled his hand. “She was trying to share something good with you.”

Layth looked at the floor for a long moment. Then he stood up. “I have to go tell Layan I’m sorry.”

The tent flap was glowing again, and everything became dark. It was time to go home.

Layth waved goodbye to his friends and crawled back through.

Layth climbed out of the tent, leaves still in his hair.

He took a deep breath and went to find his sister.

Layan was on the couch, reading. Layth stood quietly nearby. He tried to think of what to say. Nothing came out.

Then Layan noticed him and put her book down.

Layth took a tiny breath. “I am sorry, Layan. I didn’t listen to you. And I should have.”

Layan’s eyes went soft. “It’s okay, Layth. Thank you for coming to tell me.”

Layan bounced the ball. “Remember what I said this morning?” She asked.

Layth smiled. “Don’t forget to say Bismillah.”

“That’s right,” she said. “Want to try?”

Layth held the ball. He looked at the hoop. “Bismillah,” he whispered.

SWISHHHH! The ball went right through.

Layan ran over, "You did it!"

That night, before he closed his eyes, Layth whispered it one more time.

“Bismillah,” and he fell asleep.