Ramadan is with us once more, and all the warm, rich spirituality begins to rush through my body again.
Muslims, as prescribed by the Almighty Creator, have practised fasting from sun-up to sun-down around the world since the time of the beloved prophet Mohamed, peace be upon him.
Myself? This is my 23rd year (as a Muslim), and every year that passes brings a new depth and love to this most peaceful life.
As we Muslims live, fasting and praying according to the lunar calendar, Ramadan falls at a different time each year. This is the first time I can remember it coming so close to Christmas.
As some neighbours and acquaintances have remarked: "No food or drink, not even water till after dark! You must be mad." But for me fasting can only be achieved through awareness of and sacrifice to the Creator.
Abstinence is not only a matter of the obvious, such as forgoing food and drink, but also a fast from anger, bad manners, lying and putting one's hand, feet or indeed one's tongue towards wrong.
I'm just so fortunate to have such a good family and be part of such a caring community.
These are the things which glow inside and bring this longing and wishing that Ramadan could last all year.
But, of course, that is impractical.
For the first three days the phone rings endlessly as all friends and loved ones call from every corner of the Earth to wish each other love and peace during this most peaceful month.
Ramadan's end will be determined by the completion of the moon's cycle, and from start to end usually takes between 29 and 30 days.
In Ireland there are approximately 15,000 Muslims fasting. On such a small island, most people know each other.
So much so that I am dreading the arrival of my own phone bill.
We are now into the final days, and all parents are running about buying new clothes for their children and preparing for the big day, our celebration called Eid El Fitr.
So sad to see the end of what is such a sociable time between family and friends, and yet the prospect of the Eid prayer and celebrations takes over the heart.
Eid, a time of forgiveness, when all Muslim men and women embrace one another, each asking the other's forgiveness if anything they may have said or done over the past year offended the other.
It is a time to ask the cherisher of the world to forgive us, the ultimate goal of all Muslims throughout the world.
Then it's party time. Sweets and toys for the children. Cakes and tea for the adults.
Old friends meeting once a year, cherishing their time together.
Kids screaming, mothers shouting over screaming kids, laughter, talk, tea, happiness, exhaustion, and just glad to be here with all my people.
As I sit viewing the scene before me, head buzzing with all kinds of feelings, joy and wonder, I suddenly see a gathering in one corner of the mosque.
No laughter. No joy or brightness on their faces. No pleasure. Just a group of women and children.
Refugees and asylum-seekers torn from the bosom of their loved ones and family back home.
Forced to take refuge in a place that's alien, among people unknown to them.
Tears and pain pour from every glance, every false smile. Some women observing them. Those who know their pain, who themselves came here two or three years ago, also begin to relive their own pain and emptiness from that very difficult time settling in to a country so far from home.
Having a grasp of the Arabic language myself, I can hear them sob and console one another in their desperation.
One woman says: "No way back. Will I ever see my mother or father again? Or my brothers and sisters in this lifetime? I just rang my mother. She was crying and I feel so empty.
"I hate this place. I just want to see my family again. They are all together today except me. Please Allah, give patience and peace to my heart."
Then, one by one, others splutter: "I haven't seen my family for three years."
Or: "You're all right. I haven't seen mine for seven years." Or eight or 10, and on and on as the tears flow.
Yes, even I end up in tears as I feel their pain.
Yes, laughter really does turn to tears.
To all the Muslims in Ireland and all over the world, Ramadan Mubarak (congratulations on Ramadan) and Eid Mubarak (congratulations on Eid).
May Allah fill us with mercy and forgiveness, as He is the most merciful, most forgiving.
Rabia'a (Najjair) Golden is women's co-ordinator of the Islamic Foundation of Ireland