They scrubbed the swastika off the sidewalk. They washed the death threats off the walls.
One image from the attack on the Moorhead mosque still lingers for Dr. Ademola Hammed.
A little boy with a scrub brush. One of hundreds of neighbors and strangers who rushed to help after last weekend's attack on the Moorhead Fargo Islamic Center.
As volunteers swept up the broken glass and turned power washers on the filth that a vandal had spray-painted on the house of worship, Hammed watched the little boy scrub away at the floor — determined not to let hate speech have the last word.
At that moment, he said, the story changed.
"The story is now the love. It's no longer the hate," said Hammed, vice president of the Moorhead Fargo Islamic Community Center, who watched volunteers drive in from miles away to reach Moorhead, a close-knit college town on the banks of the Red River of the North. "That overshadowed everything. That is love. That is love."
This is the holy month of Ramadan. A time of prayer and fasting, compassion and joy. A time to worship together in peace.
Instead, parents in Fargo and Moorhead are keeping their children away from the mosque — just until the new cameras are installed and new security precautions are in place.