SAN ANTONIO — Aicha's small frame, swaddled in a black hijab, bobs through the haze of red, white and blue, the sequined cowboys hats and American flag T-shirts.

Rushing through the crowd, she and her husband, Clay Smith, weave through the packed convention hall. They pass delegates taking selfies with ceramic elephants and political consultants chatting with their clients en route to a congressional lunch headlined by Ted Cruz and Pete Sessions.

Aicha and Clay have never attended a political convention. This year, they went all in. Not only are they delegates to the 2018 Republican Party of Texas Convention, but they also have their own booth, nestled between the Patriot Academy and the campaign for an appeals court hopeful.

A sign hangs over their booth, imploring fellow Republicans to, "ASK A MUSLIM COUPLE ANYTHING." And boy, did they.

Does wearing the hijab violate the Constitution? Do you support President Donald Trump? Even, what's the best restaurant in Austin?

"Some questions are easy and some questions are hard," Clay says. "But I have been really happy with the reception."

Aicha chimes in: "Some, they don't have questions. They just stop to say, 'Thank you for being here.'"

'God willing'

Growing up outside of Niagara Falls, Clay Smith's mother attended the Unitarian Universalist Church. But that was "too liberal" for her son, so he switched to the Church of Christ in college. That, too, wasn't a good fit. For the next 18 years, Clay went in search of his faith.

Then, well into his 40s, he found Islam. His business card now proudly proclaims, "Muslim since 2003."

Clay and Aicha met online and married in Morocco in 2009. The next year, she immigrated to the United States. The couple lives in Austin, where Clay designs microprocessors and Aicha is taking classes online. They said the decision to ask for a spot at the convention came after hearing the Log Cabin Republicans, a group of LGBT conservatives, were again told they couldn't have a booth.

"I thought, what would be better to sending a positive message to minorities than for us to show up and get a positive reception?" Clay says, walking through the aisles of exhibitors. "I know how well Muslims are accepted in the Republican Party."

1 / 2Aicha and Clay Smith staff the "Ask a Muslim Couple Anything" booth in the exhibit hall at the 2018 Texas GOP Convention held at the Henry B. Gonzalez Convention Center in downtown San Antonio, Texas on Friday, June 15, 2018. (Louis DeLuca/The Dallas Morning News)(Louis DeLuca / Staff Photographer) 2 / 2Clay Smith, right, talks with Brad Lewis as Smith mans the "Ask a Muslim Anything" booth at the 2018 Texas GOP Convention held at the Henry B. Gonzalez Convention Center in downtown San Antonio, Texas on Thursday, June 14, 2018. (Louis DeLuca/The Dallas Morning News)(Louis DeLuca / Staff Photographer)

The couple pauses at the Texas Right to Life booth, where state Rep. Kyle Biedermann and other members of the Texas Freedom Caucus are holding a roundtable discussion. In early 2017, Biedermann, R-Frederisksburg, sent a survey to Muslims across the state asking them to declare their views on "institutionalized Shariah" and "religious freedom."

Clay says he reached out afterward so the two men could start a dialogue. "He's my buddy now," Clay adds matter-of-factly. He lifts an arm and waves at Biedermann, who raises a hand in reply. "See?"

Expanding on that dialogue is what the couple hopes to do with their convention booth this week. They set it up Thursday, stacking it with pamphlets about Muhammad and Ramadan, with copies of the Quran in English and Spanish.

Over three days, they've sat patiently. They've met new friends of all faiths and have found new connections with other Texas Muslim Republicans, like Ronald Payne, who's running for the late Ruth Jones McClendon's San Antonio state House seat.

"It's been an interesting experience," Aicha says Saturday, the last day of the convention. She adds, "I didn't expect 90 percent of the people to be nice."

And the other 10 percent?

"Some gave me a hard time," she sighs. One delegate asked a question but then wouldn't let her answer, Aicha says. "I said, 'Can I speak?' She said, 'No.'"

"Literally, they wanted me to shut up. They just said, 'Don't talk.'"

Another told her wearing the hijab is unconstitutional. Aicha's response? "Same thing for the nuns?"

Still another wanted to know if Clay was a domestic abuser.

"Somebody asked me, a woman, does your husband beat you?" Aicha says. She gazes up at Clay and smiles. He looks back and quotes, "The Messenger said, 'the best among you are the best to your wives. And I am the best of all of you to my wife.'"

Aicha says these questions don't bother her — at least not for long.

"Some people are scared of Muslims for no reason," she says, her mouth turning down at the corners. "I feel sad for like 15 minutes. But I'm OK."

That fear, Clay says, is why they're here.

"We have people who come and they're anxious about asking a question. And by the end of the conversation they're less anxious," he says, smiling. "God willing, the next time they bump into a Muslim they'll start at that lower level of threshold. And over time they'll release their anxiety at dealing with Muslims and we'll get more harmony across the nation."

CORRECTION, 8:58 p.m., June 16, 2018: An earlier version of this story said the couple moved to the United States so they could get married, but they married in Morocco before Aicha immigrated to the U.S.