This is what I know: A tall, slender man of gracious posture standing in a green field. Lining us all up along the edge, a race! All of us, the whole school, the few we were at the time. Watching us whip toward a fence strangled with honeysuckles. Quiet, kind, gentle.
Years later, and years ago, we sat and talked about our favorite principals. I can’t tell you where we were, or who was there. One thing is certain: we were all in conclusion, “Br. Ibrahim was the best.”
“Think not of those, who are slain in the way of Allah, as dead. Nay, they are living. With their Lord they have provision. Jubilant (are they) because of that which Allah hath bestowed upon them of His bounty, rejoicing for the sake of those who have not joined them but are left behind: that there shall no fear come upon them neither shall they grieve. They rejoice because of favor from Allah and kindness, and that Allah wasteth not the wage of the believers.” (Al-Imran 3: 169-71)