What is gained and what is lost in America?
It was 1996. After offering Friday prayers, I saw a man sitting in a brand new Lincoln outside the mosque. He seemed to be waiting for someone. I had the feeling that I knew him. He came out of his car all of a sudden and moved towards me. He called me by name, shook my hand very warmly and introduced himself. He refreshed my memory, reminding me of the small clothing store he owned in Karachi (Pakistan) where my family used to shop. He told me he had a big business and a house in a posh neighborhood and invited me and my wife for dinner the following Sunday so we could talk. When we arrived for dinner, instead of taking us inside through the front door, he took us through the garage to show us, with great pride, four late-model cars – a Lincoln, a BMW, a Montero and a Honda Accord. He showed us the entire house, which was expensive and tastefully decorated. I congratulated him on his business successes, but when I asked about his children he became sad. With tearful eyes he said he ha
