The Moon in the Middle of the Day
by Rahma Mohamed
By the window,
I watch the snow fall.
A group of Somali aunts walk toward our house,
their hands full of bags of food and supplies.
I run to open the door,
leading them into the living room.
Before joining them,
I go to my grandmother’s room.
She sits on her prayer mat,
eyes like rivers.
In my life,
I have only seen her cry a few times.
Now, her tears river away,
carrying memories she buried long ago
stories from a civil war
I am still too young to understand.
Today, she cries because her daughter was taken by ICE.
Because her daughter was born to a woman
who carries her home with her,
not an orange ripened on one branch.
And now, we long but never fully belong
to a land
only to a community.
Grandma and I return to the living room,
where the women are already gathered.
Somewhere in the kitchen,
food has already been prepared
and laid out for us,
as if they knew hunger would arrive before we did.
The women speak gently with my grandmother.
Their voices move like warm tea steam,
soft but steady.
The girls come to sit beside me,
playing with my toys
and helping me with my homework.
The sun begins to set.
A Gabay (Somali poetry) hums quietly in the
background,
blending with laughter and whispered
conversations.
One of the women stands,
guiding my grandmother carefully
to help her make Wudu (ablution).
They move slowly,
with patience
that feels older than language.
At 6 p.m.,
it is time for them to go home.
They gather their coats,
their scarves,
their quiet kindness.
Tomorrow,
I will wait for them again.
And I learn from them
how to show up with hope and love
the way they do.
Like generosity
like the moon in the middle of the day
present
even when it does not shine,
even when its light is not needed.
To be generous
is not only to give light,
but to carry the responsibility to show up.
To give when unseen.
To wait beside someone’s pain.
To witness.
To remain.
Beautifully,
in patience.
Artist Statement:
This piece reflects on generosity as the quiet act of showing up for one another. Through the eyes of a young girl, it honors the Muslim women who carry their communities with patience, food, prayer, and presence. The buildings of Riverside Plaza and the memorial flowers remind us that behind every window and every tribute are lives held together by care. Like the moon in the middle of the day, generosity remains present even when its light goes unnoticed.
Artist Bio
Rahma Mohamed is a Minnesota-based writer in her final year at Augsburg University, where she will soon complete her Bachelor of Arts. She began writing poetry at fourteen and self-published her first collection, Mirror in Mind, at seventeen. Rooted in her Somali community, her work reflects on identity, belonging, and the quiet details of everyday life. She is currently working on her second book and hopes to continue growing as both a poet and creative director.