First Time at the Masjid

That evening the sky was orange. From far away came the Maghrib call to prayer: "Allahu Akbar, Allahu Akbar…"

"Mo, do you want to come to the masjid with Abi?" asked Abi.

Baby Mo's eyes went round. He had never prayed at the masjid! He quickly put on his white koko shirt and his little cap, which sat slightly crooked.

At the front of the masjid was a long shoe rack. Baby Mo took off his sandals and put them neatly in a row with all the big sandals.

"We go into the masjid with our right foot first," whispered Abi. "And we say a du'a."

Baby Mo stepped in with his right foot very carefully, as if he were walking into a palace.

Inside, the masjid was enormous. The ceiling was high. Yellow lamps hung down and swayed gently. The carpet was red with straight gold lines like little roads.

And everyone was quiet. Some sat making dhikr. Some prayed sunnah prayers. Nobody ran. Nobody shouted.

Baby Mo really wanted to run across that wide carpet. His feet were itching. But he remembered what Abi said on the way: "The masjid is Allah's house. In Allah's house, we walk softly and speak softly."

Baby Mo whispered to himself, "Gentle steps and gentle voice, in Allah's house I make good choices. Gentle steps and gentle voice, in Allah's house I make good choices."

The iqamah was called. Everyone stood and closed up the rows, shoulder to shoulder. Baby Mo stood beside Abi, in a row as straight as the gold lines on the carpet.

"Allahu Akbar," said the imam.

Baby Mo raised his hands like Abi. He bowed like Abi. He went down in sujud like Abi. His forehead touched the soft, sweet-smelling carpet.

In the second rak'ah, Baby Mo forgot where he was. He wanted to look at the swaying lamps. He almost turned his head… but he saw Abi's feet beside him, still and calm. Baby Mo looked down again.

"Assalamu'alaikum wa rahmatullah," said the imam. The prayer was finished.

An old grandpa with a white beard beside Baby Mo smiled and patted his head. "Masha Allah, a little boy praying in congregation. Wonderful."

Baby Mo blushed until his ears went red.

On the way home, Baby Mo held Abi's hand. "Abi, why do we pray at the masjid? We can pray at home too, can't we?"

"We can," said Abi. "But praying together is special. The Messenger of Allah ﷺ said:"

"Prayer in congregation is better than praying alone by twenty-seven degrees." (Bukhari 645, Muslim 650)

"Twenty-seven!" Baby Mo tried counting on his fingers, but he didn't have enough. "That's so many, Abi!"

That night Baby Mo told Baby Ais and Umi all about the swaying lamps, the red carpet and the grandpa who patted his head. "Tomorrow I want to go to the masjid again," he said. "Gentle steps, gentle voice."

Talk it over with your little one: which masjid manners do you remember? Let's practise going into the masjid right foot first! 🕌