Her father, Bahgat Elsagher, insists he wants his daughter marrying no one but a Muslim. Her mother, Brenda Elsagher, just smiles and says, "We'll see."

Bahgat is a Muslim, reared in Egypt in a large and loving family. Brenda is a Catholic, reared in Richfield in a large and loving family.

In a world where some people associate the words Muslims and Islam with terrorism and hatred, this is a family living a daily lesson in tolerance, reaching across cultures and embracing two faiths.

As the more than 1 billion Muslims worldwide celebrate the monthlong observance of Ramadan, a time of fasting and prayer, the Elsaghers mirror what it means to live in the reality of two of the Abrahamic faiths -- different and at odds sometimes, but both with traditions of forgiveness, spiritual love and generosity.

Hannah and her brother, John, 12, go to Catholic mass with their mother. With their father, they observe Islamic holidays. They are fasting this year with their dad. Brenda is not eating in front of her family at home during the day.

The Elsaghers are probably one of only a few Muslim-Christian couples in Minnesota rearing their children in both faiths. Usually one faith "wins."

But interfaith marriages are increasingly common in the United States. Mark Swanson, professor of Islamic studies at Luther Seminary in St. Paul, said, "Every time I go to a Lutheran church I ask the group if they have any Muslims in their families, and always someone raises a hand."

It is common for the children to be Muslims, he said, although there are many different kinds of families.

The dates for Ramadan move each year on the Western calendar, and this year Thanksgiving will come during Ramadan. Imagine that you're not eating or drinking anything all day long, waiting until sundown. And, now, imagine you're part of a huge extended family that normally gathers on such holidays for riotous laughter, gossip and plenty of food.

"Bahgat is working that day, and we'll wait until he gets home after dark, and then we'll go to my sister's," said Brenda, who traditionally is host to the dinner.

Otherwise, theirs is a typical, busy Minnesota family. Bahgat, 48, is a manager for Seagate Technology in Bloomington; Brenda, 46, owns a beauty salon, Alpha Hair and Nails in Richfield. Hannah takes trumpet and voice lessons; John takes tuba lessons and plays sports, including football. In a sense, religion is just another thing to mark on the kitchen calendar.

As Brenda says, "Our biggest fights are not because he's Muslim and I'm Christian, or he's from Egypt and I'm American. It's because he's a man and I'm a woman."

Two faiths

Both children know how to use an Islamic prayer rug. Often when they are in the car, Bahgat recites Qur'anic texts with them. At home, Hannah unzips a small case holding a Qur'an. She tries to show off her knowledge of Arabic by reading.

Hannah has a better gift for language than John does, Bahgat says. She just blushes and says, "Sometimes I know the words, and sometimes [Dad] has to help me."

But then she illustrates the unusual journey she and her brother are on when she offers, "My dad said the Qur'an in English once, and it sounded like we were in church."

John thinks Islam and Christianity are "kind of similar religions. They all believe in God and Jesus. Dad thinks Jesus is a prophet. Mom thinks Jesus is God. But it's not confusing."

He says, "I try church and I celebrate all the Christian holidays, and I do things with Dad, too, like Ramadan." Brenda said that one day when she and John were at mass, he told her he would like to be one of the priest's helpers during mass but that he quickly lost interest.

Brenda knows that if Bahgat died, she would have to make sure the children continued to be exposed to his faith. If Brenda died, however, her extended Catholic family would make sure the children's exposure to Christianity continued.

But sometimes things are left untaught. Brenda said, "One year when the kids were little, my sister passed out rosaries to all the kids, and mine wore theirs like necklaces."

Happily ever after

Brenda and Bahgat are happy after 14 years of marriage. When they met, Bahgat, then a graduate student at the University of Minnesota, was acting on behalf of his brother Ragab, who wanted to meet Americans. Ragab couldn't speak English, so he asked Bahgat to call Brenda.

She agreed to meet the man she knew as Ragab, who was really Bahgat, for dinner. When she arrived, there were two men. Bahgat says, "I was going to just pass my brother along, and then I'm off the hook."

By now, she's laughing as he tells the story.

He continues, "It was like I committed a crime and should be ashamed of myself, and all I was doing was trying to help my brother meet someone."

During the meal, the Elsagher brothers weren't eating and kept looking at their watches. It was Ramadan, and they couldn't eat until sundown, but Brenda didn't know that. And Bahgat, who was a poor graduate student, didn't realize that when you take a woman on a date in America you usually pay for the meal.

When Brenda went home that evening, she tore up their phone number.

And it got worse, and as the story unfolds they are both laughing. But "we were meant to be together," Brenda says.

Brenda felt much more comfortable with the idea of marrying an Egyptian man after she met his family. "They reminded me of a good old-fashioned Catholic family like mine, only they were Sunni Muslims. They were very spiritual and not legalistic." Bahgat has five siblings; Brenda has seven.

Needing God

In 1995, Brenda learned that she had colorectal cancer, which often is deadly.

Mary, Mother of the Church Catholic Church in Burnsville started prayer chains for her; people prayed with their rosaries, said novenas.

Hannah was 3 and John 5. Bahgat switched into high gear, working, taking care of the children and being with Brenda at the hospital as much as possible. While Brenda was in intensive care, Bahgat's father died in Egypt. His mother died six months later.

Through it all, they relied heavily on their faiths. Bahgat said, "I was trying to communicate to God this was a rough situation. If I ever needed any help, this was the time." Still, as a Muslim, he knew that "God has a reason for everything. I didn't question the reason for it."

Brenda didn't feel sorry for herself or ask, "Why?" But "I wanted to pray for healing. I didn't want anyone else raising my kids."

As is usual with them, they also used humor.

When Bahgat first saw Brenda after her surgery, she had tubes running in and out of much of her body. He leaned over to her in intensive care and said, "You look just like the back of my stereo system at home."

Brenda said, "Isn't he just so romantic! I did laugh, though."

Same god?

Bahgat says with pride that one of Brenda's sisters told him once "that I do more than a Christian person" for Christmas. The family goes to midnight mass on Christmas Eve. He also decorates the house for Easter, and they have an annual Easter egg hunt.

Brenda says, however, "I think I've been much more open to the possibility of being a Muslim than he has of being a Christian."

Bahgat responded that he doesn't have to study Christianity, because "it's all around me."

When asked whether they echo their children in believing they worship the same God, they demur. "I think for the most part, we do believe in the same God, yes," Bahgat says.

To baptize or not

One of their most difficult religion decisions was made before they were married. Brenda had talked to Bahgat about baptizing any children they might have. A cleric in Egypt told him that if their children were baptized, they would not be Muslims, but Christians. Bahgat was unwilling to give up on his children being Muslims before they were even born.

Not baptizing was a difficult choice for Brenda. "It was the letting go of another tradition for me. It was just another thing to separate me from my friends and the people who knew me and had the same beliefs." Still, she agreed not to have their children baptized.

Then there's grace at family meals.

Brenda grew up with the traditional Christian prayer that thanks God for blessings "through Jesus Christ our Lord." Bahgat was uncomfortable with that, so they worked out their own grace, in which they simply thank God for the day and the food.

A Ramadan breakfast started at 4 a.m., with Bahgat dressed and cooking and the others sleepy and in bathrobes. He had strung up the Ramadan lights all over the exterior of the house. They're just like Christmas lights, so they'll stay up through December.

John said that on the first day of fasting, his science class had built individual "incredible edible cells" as a way of learning about the human cell. He built his from jelly and candies and then left it uneaten.

Bahgat said that when he was a child in Egypt, Ramadan was a wonderful time of peace and celebrations -- especially when it was in summer and school was out. The children would stay up all night partying and then sleep all day.

In Burnsville, as the family ate the traditional Egyptian fare of beans, falafeal, pita bread, sweets, cucumbers and tomatoes, Brenda patiently urged Hannah to eat enough to last the day. She ate some, then announced she was done. At 5:15 a.m. they drank their last ounce of water until sundown. Two hours later, as Hannah dressed for school, she said to her mother, "I'm hungry."

But she had made a promise, and said she would refrain.

-- Martha Sawyer Allen is at mallen@startribune.com or 612-673-7919.