The three boys in white robes eagerly accepted crisp $10 and $20 bills from their parents yesterday morning. Their wide grins did not fade when their other, Sabahat Adil, reminded them to quickly hand some back.
"What happens when you give money back to Allah?" Adil asked, taking $10 for charity from Karim, 7, and $20 each from Kamran, 10, and Kabir, 12.
"You get more!" chirped Kamran, who, like his older brother, still clutched $80.
"That's right," Adil said. "Allah gives you more."
It was the first day of Eid al-Fitr, the three-day festival that marks the end of Ramadan, Islam's holy month. In the Adils' town house in Centreville, and in Muslim homes and communal gatherings around the world, it was a time to celebrate and also to remember those less fortunate.
"It should not be all about party, party, party -- though we're going to do that half the day," said Adil, 37, a Pakistani by birth who came to this country in 1979, when her father took a job at the World Bank. "They do have to learn at this age the true meaning of charity."
After praying and celebrating yesterday with thousands of other Muslims at the Capital Expo Center in Chantilly, the family was planning to drop off new clothes at the home of a struggling family in Alexandria.
The boys were promised tickets to the new Harry Potter movie sometime during the three days -- they are big fans of the Potter books but had not been permitted to go to theaters during Ramadan -- and a spending spree at Toys R Us. Their mother also is hoping to take them to a hospital or nursing home to visit the sick.
The family dined at Copeland's for lunch yesterday and at a Pakistani restaurant in Springfield for dinner. Today, they will eat an Eid banquet of turkey and trimmings at the home of friends, having eschewed Thanksgiving because it fell during Ramadan.
Such is the balancing act that is Muslim life in the United States.
Kamran and Kabir read the Koran as well as Harry Potter: During the last 10 days of Ramadan, they worked with a tutor for two hours each evening to memorize verses from the Koran. Along with their little brother, they pray prostrate, facing Mecca, then bound off in search of a Nintendo Game Boy or to practice tae kwan do.
The boys wore long white robes yesterday for the massive, communal Eid prayers. But they ran back to the minivan with their father to change into jeans as soon as prayers were over, the better to explore the adjacent hall where the carnival games and concessions were underway.
Since the deadly attacks of Sept. 11, for which terrorists acting in the name of Allah are believed responsible, Adil and her husband, Pankaj Adil Gupta, have worried that their sons will be harassed in public or questioned by authorities. They have also worried that the boys will be confused about their religion.
"Allahuakbar means 'God is the Greatest.' We do what he says, not what people say," Adil recalled telling her children. "People who hurt people might think they're doing the right thing, but that doesn't mean they are doing the right thing."
The family spent the last 10 days of Ramadan -- Itkaf -- at Dar al-Hijrah mosque in Falls Church, where they worship and Adil helps run women's and children's programs. Waking hours were spent in prayer and study with scores of other faithful and in organizing meals at the mosque and charity for those in need. They ate communally, separated by gender. Men and women slept in their respective prayer galleries, in sleeping bags and bedrolls cushioned by the thick carpet.
Itkaf commemorates the time during which the opening verses of the Koran were revealed to the prophet Muhammad, it is said. Members of the Adil family spent it at the mosque last Ramadan but had not expected to interrupt their lives so completely again this year. Sept. 11 changed that.
"It's very important for them to learn Islam as it truly is," Adil said Thursday at Dar al-Hijrah, watching her boys help set the table for the break-the-fast meal. "Here, they're seeing it day and night, how Muslims are really doing it. Are they talking hate? Hate Christians, hate whites? No. When people teach hatred, obviously they're not following true Islam."
Adil did not include Jewish people in that expression of goodwill. Her feelings about Jews seem less clear. She said she sees Israel as a place that was stolen from Muslims. She dismissed talk of a historic Jewish claim to the land and insisted that Jewish patriarchs, such as Abraham, actually fathered Islam.
But, when pressed, Adil concedes that Islam does not condone suicide bombings, or the slaughter of innocent civilians, even on disputed land.
There was no such politics discussed yesterday. Neither the war in Afghanistan, nor the enormous challenges posed to the Muslim world by the recent violence, could dim the exuberance of the Eid celebration. Nor could the unusually high level of security at the mosque, including the use of hand-held metal detectors and bag searches.
Women dressed in flowing, colorful robes from dozens of countries exchanged hugs and kisses. Men, beaming, did the same.
The Adil boys joined thousands of youngsters on moon bounce rides and in long lines for Cokes and cotton candy. Kabir spent some of his money at the bazaar, buying a book about the prophets of Islam.
"We are in the mood" to celebrate, Adil said just before she turned east to answer the solemn call to prayer. "After the 30 days of Ramadan, we are very much in the mood."