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Riyadh-ul-Jannah
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Default Re: Short Stories - 05-28-2008


These stories are very beautiful.
Masha-Allah
   
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Default Re: Short Stories - 06-13-2008

Wanting God


A hermit was meditating by a river when a young man interrupted him.

"Master, I wish to become your disciple," said the man. "Why?" replied the

hermit. The young man thought for a moment. "Because I want to find

God."

The master jumped up, grabbed him by the scruff of his neck, dragged him

into the river, and plunged his head under water. After holding him there for

a minute, with him kicking and struggling to free himself, the master finally

pulled him up out of the river. The young man coughed up water and gasped

to get his breath. When he eventually quieted down, the master spoke. "Tell

me, what did you want most of all when you were under water."

"Air!" answered the man.

"Very well," said the master. "Go home and come back to me when you

want God as much as you just wanted air."


[Author unknown (to me)]
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Default Re: Short Stories - 06-13-2008



^ Sikkkkkkkkkkkkkk
   
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Default Re: Short Stories - 06-13-2008

Quote:
Originally Posted by Hajar View Post
GLASS OF MILK

One day, a poor boy who was selling goods from door to
door to pay his way through school, found he had only
one thin dime left, and he was hungry.

He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house.
However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman
opened the door.

Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water. She
thought he looked hungry so brought him a large glass
of milk. He drank it so slowly, and then asked, How
much do I owe you?"

You don't owe me anything," she replied. "Mother has
taught us never to accept pay for a kindness."

He said ... "Then I thank you from my heart."

As Howard Kelly left that house, he not only felt
stronger physically, but his faith in God and man was
strong also. He had been ready to give up and quit.

Many year's later that same young woman became
critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They
finally sent her to the big city, where they called in
specialists to study her rare disease.

Dr. Howard Kelly was called in for the consultation.
When he heard the name of the town she came from, a
strange light filled his eyes.

Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the
hospital to her room.

Dressed in his doctor's gown he went in to see her. He
recognized her at once.

He went back to the consultation room determined to do
his best to save her life. From that day he gave
special attention to her case.

After a long strugle, the battle was won.

Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the
final bill to him for approval. He looked at it, then
wrote something on the edge and the bill was sent to
her room. She feared to open it, for she was sure it
would take the rest of her life to pay for it all.
Finally she looked, and something caught her attention
on the side of the bill. She read these words ...

"Paid in full with one glass of milk"

(Signed) Dr. Howard Kelly.

Tears of joy flooded her eyes as her happy heart
prayed: "Thank You,
God, that Your love has spread broad through human
hearts and hands."

There's a saying which goes something like this: Bread
cast on the waters comes back to you. The good deed
you do today may benefit you or someone you love at
the least expected time. If you never see the deed
again at least you will have made the world a better
place - And, after all, isn't that what life is all
about?

The hardest thing to learn in life is which bridge to
cross and which -- To burn ...
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Default Re: Story dat has a meaning! - 06-13-2008

Quote:
Originally Posted by khadija View Post
It's about muslim man named Rashid. He Says.
"I was not a practicing muslim, I had bad friends. I enjoyed going out with them. I was almost never home, but always at gatherings with friends, in these gatherings we backbited, gossiped and made fun of ppl. I was especially known among my friends to make jokes and ppl were impressed by the way I was so good at it. One night (at the time I was 30 and married and my wife was pregnant with our 1st child) I was as usual gathered with my friends and talking useless talk. I was telling them how I was at the marketone day and I saw a blind man and I put my leg out in front of this man and the blind man tripped and fell on his face. My friends laughed and so on. When I went back home that night, my wife told me 'were have u been?' 'I am so tired and sick and I think I am in labor.' A tear dropped down her cheek. I felt guilty, for I hadn't cared about my wife properly.

I quickly took her to the hospital. She was in pain for a long time and could not give birth, I waited patiently, but eventually I left and told the hospital to call me when she gave birth. An hour later, they called telling me my wife had given birth to baby boy named Salem.

I quickly went to the hospital. I asked which room my wife was in.
They told me I 1st had to see the doctor. I got mad at them and said "What doctor? I want to see my son!?!" they insisted that I see the doctor first. So I went to the doctor, she first talked to me about calamities and that one must accept the will (qadar) of Allah. Then she told me, 'your son is blind!' My lowered my head and remembered the blind man I tripped and made fun of.

I didn't know what to say, I thanked the doctor for her kindness
and went to see my wife. My wife was not sad, rather she accepted the will of Allah (Subhanahu wata'ala).
She had always advised me not to make fun of ppl and not to gossip
and backbite.

We left the hospital. I did not care about Salem, I did not like
him, I pretended that he wasn't even in the house. But, my wife loved
Salem very much and cared for him.

Salem grew and he began to crawl, he wasn't crawling properly. When
he began to walk, we discovered that he was handicapped. This was too much for me Later, my wife gave birth to 2 boys, Omar and Khalid.

Years passed, salem and his brothers grew. I continued to hang out
with my bad friends and did not like to be at home. However, my wife was patient with me and she always made dua that Allah guide me.

One Friday, I woke up at 11 am (which was early for me) and was
getting ready to go to a walimah (I did not go to Jummah). I got dressed, put on 3tter, and was about to head out the door when I saw Salem (who was 10 yrs old) crying very loudly in the living room.
So, for the first time in 10 years I cared and went to ask him why
he was crying. When salem felt me coming near, he stopped crying and
pushed me away as if to say, "Now you care, where were you for the past 10 yrs!" Salem was calling his mother and brothers, but no one was answering him, so he went to his room. I followed him. At first, he would not tell me why he was crying.

Do you know why he was crying? His brother Omar, who normally took him to the masjid, was late. Salem was afraid that since it was a Friday, he would not be able to get a spot in the front row at the mosque. I said, "is that why you cried salem?" salem answered positively.
I, out of disbelief from what I heard, forgot about my friends and
the walimah. I then told salem that I would take him to the mosque.

Salem could not believe what he had heard. He thought his father
was mocking him. He then began to cry. I wiped salem's tears and took him by his hand to take him to the car. Salem refused. He said the mosque is near, and he wants to walk there by foot.

I could not remember the last time he went to the mosque. The
mosque was full, but I was able to find a spot for salem in the first row.

After prayer was over, salem asked me to get him copy of the Quran.
I thought, 'how can he want a Quran if he is blind!!!!' so I gave him
one anyway so that his feelings would not be hurt.

Salem then asked me to open to surat al-kahf. So when I opened it
for him, salem began to recite. He had memorized the entire surah.

I felt embarrassed and ashamed of myself. I took a Quran and began
to read. I asked Allah for forgiveness and guidance. I then began to sob like a child. There were still people in the mosque, so I tried to hide my tears.

I couldn't. I began to sob loudly. I felt a small hand wiping his tears away. It was salem. He hugged me and I thought, 'you aren't the blind one, for I am, because I ran after the evil people
who would drag me into hell-fire.'

From that day on I never missed a prayer at the mosque. My wife was
really happy.

I left all my bad friends and tasted the sweetness of eman. I went
to halaqas. I became closer to Allah and to my family. I thanked Allah
for thisgreat blessing.

One day my pious friends decided to go to a far away place to make
dawah. I hesitated about going, I made istikharah and asked my wife, to my surprise she encouraged me to go. She was so happy, for before I used to travel w/o asking her. I told Salem that I would be traveling, he hugged me with his tiny arms,bidding me farewell. I was away for 3 months and I would call my family and I missed them greatly, especially Salem. Whenever, I called I would ask for him but he was either at school or the mosque. Everytime I told my wife how much I missed him, she would laugh cheerfully. Except for the last call, she did not laugh but her voice had changed. I told her to say salam to Salem and she said "Insha Allah" and was quiet. I finally came back home and hoped Salem would open the door for me, but Khaled did. Then I saw my wife, her face had changed. I asked her "what's wrong?" she replied "nothing." Then I remembered Salem, and asked "where is he?" My wife lowered her head and did not answer. A tear dropped down her cheek. I screamed at her, "where's Salem, where is he?'"My son Khaled (4 yrs old), said "Daddy, Thalem went to Jannah, he is with Allah." My wife could not handle it and she broke down in tears and left the room. I found out later that Salem had got sick with a fever and went to hospital 2 weeks before I arrived. The fever worsened and his mother stayed by his side and until his soul departed his body.
   
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Default Re: Short Stories - 06-14-2008

The Duck & the Devil




There was a little boy visiting his grandparents on their farm. He was given a slingshot to play with out in the woods. He practiced in the woods, but he could never hit the target. Getting a little discouraged, he headed back for dinner.

As he was walking back he saw Grandma's pet duck. Just out of impulse, he let the slingshot fly, hit the duck square in the head and killed it. He was shocked and grieved! In a panic, he hid the dead duck in the wood pile, only to see his sister watching!

Fatima had seen it all, but she said nothing. After lunch the next day Grandma said, 'Fatima, let's wash the dishes.' But Fatima said, 'Grandma, Ahmed told me he wanted to help in the kitchen.' Then she whispered to him, 'Remember the duck?' So Ahmed did the dishes.

Later that day, Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing and Grandma said, 'I'm sorry but I need Fatima to help make supper.'

Fatima just smiled and said, 'Well, that's all right because Ahmed told me he wanted to help.' She whispered again, 'Remember the duck?' So Fatima went fishing and Ahmed stayed to help.

After several days of Ahmed doing both his chores and Fatima's, he finally couldn't stand it any longer.

He came to Grandma and confessed that he had killed the duck. Grandma knelt down, gave him a hug and said, 'Sweetheart, I know. You see, I was standing at the window and I saw the whole thing, but because I love you, I forgave you. I was just wondering how long you would let Fatima make a slave of you.'

Thought for the day and every day thereafter?

Whatever is in your past, whatever you have done... and the devil keeps throwing it up in your face (lying, cheating, debt, fear, bad habits, hatred, anger, bitterness, etc.)...whatever it is...You need to know that Allah was standing at the window and He saw the whole thing. He has seen your whole life. He wants you to know that He loves you and that you are forgiven.

He's just wondering how long you will let the devil make a slave of you.

The great thing about Allah is that when you ask for forgiveness, He not only forgives you, but He forgets. It is by Allah's grace and mercy that we are saved.
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You plan to be richer,you stash to be bigger.But man get the picture, you can’t take it with ya.
   
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Default Re: Short Stories - 06-17-2008



^ SubhaanAllaah!!!!!!
   
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Default Re: Short Stories - 07-22-2008

Quote:
Originally Posted by Osman View Post


Subhan'Allah! That was beautiful! Your Aunt told you?
Here is one:

The Room

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in a room. There were no distinguishing features save for the one wall covered with small index-card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endlessly in either direction, had very different headings. As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read "People I Have Liked." I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one. And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalogue system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory could not match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.
A file named "Friends" was next to one marked "Friends I Have Betrayed." The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. "Books I Have Read," "Lies I Have Told," "Comfort I Have Given," "Jokes I Have Laughed At." Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: "Things I've Yelled at My Brothers." Others I couldn't laugh at: "Things I Have Done in My Anger," "Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents." I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my 30 years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked "Songs I Have Listened To," I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, ashamed, not so much by the quality of music, but more by the vast amount of wasted time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked "Lustful Thoughts," I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: "No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!" In an insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh. And then I saw it.

The title bore "Time I Have Spent in Learning About Allah and His Tawheed". The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. The cards in it were so few, so inadequate, that I could count them on just one hand! And the amount of time I had spent in learning about Allah, in understanding His Tawheed, in studying the correct Islamic Aqeedah - the time I had spent on all this was so tiny, so miniscule and irrelevant that I was embarrassed beyond words . . . It was then that the tears came. I began to weep. Sobs so deep that the hurt started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the over-whelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key.


marshallah!
   
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Default Re: Short Stories - 07-28-2008


A story I would like to share called 'The Tongue'
Once a King told his servant to get the worst part of a sheep for his evening meal, the servant went out to get what the king had asked for. When the servant got back to the King's home the King asked what it was, and the servant answered 'The Tongue'.
The next day the King asked the same servant to get the worst part of a sheep for his evening meal. The servant went to get the worst part of a sheep.
When he returned, the king asked, "What is this?" The servant answered "The Tongue"
The King looked puzzled, "But I do not understand!" He said. "You have gotten the same as yesterday, how is the Tongue the best and worst part of a sheep?"
"The Tongue can be the worst part for it can speak lies, say bad things, however The Tongue can an also be the best for it can use kind and gentle words, cheer people up, help people, and all of mankind should make their Tongue the best part!" The servant explained, "Now do you understand?"
The End
   
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Default Re: Short Stories - 07-28-2008

I just LOVE this story. Brang a tear to my eye and always does everytime I read it.


Daddi Can you give me 10$ ?




A man came home from work late, tired and irritated, to find his 5 year old son waiting for him at the door.


"Daddy, may I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, sure, what is it?" replied the man.

"Daddy, how much money do you make an hour?"

"That's none of your business! What makes you ask such a thing?" the man said angrily.

"I just want to know. Please tell me, how much do you make an hour?" pleaded the little boy.

"If you must know, I make $20.00 an hour."

"Oh, " the little boy replied, head bowed. Looking up, he said, "Daddy, may I borrow $10.00 please?"

The father was furious. "If the only reason you want to know how much money I make is just so you can borrow some to buy a silly toy or some other nonsense, then you march yourself straight to your room and go to bed. Think about why you're being so selfish. I work long, hard hours everyday and don't have time for such childish games."

The little boy quietly went to his room and shut the door. The man sat down and started to get even madder about the little boy's questioning. How dare he ask such questions only to get some money. After an hour or so , the man had calmed down, and started to think he may have been a little hard on his son. May be there was something he really needed to buy with that $10.00 and he really didn't ask for money very often. The man went to the door of the little boy's room and opened the door. "Are you asleep son?" he asked.

"No daddy, I'm awake," replied the boy.

"I've been thinking, maybe I was too hard on you earlier," said the man. "It's been a long day and I took my aggravation out on you. Here's that $10.00 you asked for."

The little boy sat straight up, beaming. "Oh, thank you daddy!" he yelled. Then, reaching under his pillow, he pulled out some more crumpled up bills. The man, seeing that the boy already had money, started to get angry again. The little boy slowly counted out his money, then looked up at the man.

"Why did you want more money if you already had some?" the father grumbled.

"Because I didn't have enough, but now I do," the little boy replied. "Daddy, I have $20.00 now... Can I buy an hour of your time?"
   
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Default The Donkey - 08-01-2008

THE DONKEY

One day a farmer's donkey fell into a well. The animal cried piteously for hours as the farmer tried to figure out what to do. Finally, he thought the animal was old, and the well needed to be covered up anyway; it just wasn't worth it to retrieve the donkey.


He invited all his neighbors to come over and help him. They all grabbed a shovel and began to shovel dirt into the well. At first, the donkey realized what was happening and cried horribly. Then, to everyone's amazement he was silent.


A few shovel loads later, the farmer finally looked down the well. He was astonished at what he saw. With each shovel of dirt that hit its back, the donkey was doing something amazing. He would shake it off and take a step up.

As the farmer's neighbors continued to shovel dirt on top of the animal, he would shake it off and take a step up. Pretty soon, everyone was amazed as the donkey stepped up over the edge of the well and happily trotted off!

MORAL :

Life is going to shovel dirt on you, all kinds of dirt. The trick to getting out of the well is to shake it off and take a step up. Each of our troubles is a steppingstone. We can get out of the deepest wells just by not stopping, never giving up! Shake it off and take a step up.


Remember the five simple rules to be happy:

1. Free your heart from hatred - Forgive.

2. Free your mind from worries - Most never happens.

3. Live simply and appreciate what you have.

4. Give more.

5. Expect less from people but
more from God.
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Default Re: Short Stories - 09-04-2008

Mash'Allah beautiful stories! To everyone who has contributed, Jazak'Allah. A bookmark for sure--I'll be sure to read through these more...
   
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Default carry me in ur arms - 09-19-2008

When I got home that night as my wife served dinner, I held her hand and said, I've got something to tell you. She sat down and ate quietly. I observed the hurt in her eyes.
Suddenly I didn't know how to say it. But I had to let her know what I was thinking. I want a divorce. I raised the topic calmly. She didn't seem to be annoyed by my words, instead she asked me softly, why? I avoided her question.
That night, we didn't talk to each other. She was weeping. I knew she wanted to find out what had happened to our marriage. But I could hardly give her a satisfactory answer; I had lost my heart to a lovely girl called Dew. I didn't love her anymore. I just pitied her!
With a deep sense of guilt, I drafted a divorce agreement which stated that she could own our house, 30% shares of my company and the car. She glanced at it and then tore it to pieces. The woman who had spent ten years of her life with me had become a stranger. I felt sorry for her wasted time, resources and energy but I could not take back what I had said, for I loved Dew so dearly.
Finally she cried loudly in front of me, which was what I had expected to see. To me, her cry was actually a kind of release. The idea of divorce which had obsessed me for several weeks seemed to be firmer and clearer now.
The next day, I came back home very late and found her writing something at the table. I didn't have supper but went straight to sleep and fell fast asleep because I was tired after an eventful day with Dew.
In the morning she presented her divorce conditions: she didn't want anything from me, but needed a month's notice before the divorce. She requested that in that one month, we both struggle to live as normal a life as possible. Her reasons were simple: our son had his exams in a month's time and she didn't want to disrupt him with our broken marriage.
This was agreeable to me. But she had something more, she asked me to recall how I had carried her into out bridal room on our wedding day. She requested that everyday for the month's duration I carry her out of our bedroom to the front door ever morning. I thought she was going crazy.
Just to make our last days together bearable I accepted her odd request. I told Dew about my wife's divorce conditions. She laughed loudly and thought it was absurd. No matter what tricks she has, she has to face the divorce, she said scornfully. My wife and I hadn't had any body contact since my divorce intention was explicitly expressed. So when I carried her out on the first day, we both appeared clumsy. From the bedroom to the sitting room, then to the door, I walked over ten meters with her in my arms. She closed her eyes and said softly, don't tell our son about the divorce. I nodded, feeling somewhat upset. I put her down outside the door. She went to wait for the bus to work. I drove alone to the office.
On the second day, both of us acted much more easily. She leaned on my chest.. I could smell the fragrance of her blouse. I realized that I hadn't looked at this woman carefully for a long time. I realized she was not young any more. There were fine wrinkles on her face, her hair was graying! Our marriage had taken its toll on her. For a minute I wondered what I had done to her.
On the fourth day, when I lifted her up, I felt a sense of intimacy returning. This was the woman who had given ten years of her life to me. On the fifth and sixth day, I realized that our sense of intimacy was growing again. I didn't tell Dew about this. It became easier to carry her as the month slipped by. Perhaps the everyday workout made me stronger.
She was choosing what to wear one morning. She tried on quite a few dresses but could not find a suitable one. Then she sighed, all my dresses have grown bigger. I suddenly realized that she had grown so thin, that was the reason why I could carry her more easily. Suddenly it hit me, .. she had buried so much pain and bitterness in her heart.
Subconsciously I reached out and touched her head. Our son came in at the moment and said, Dad, it's time to carry mum out. To him, seeing his father carrying his mother out had become an essential part of his life. My wife gestured to our son to come close and hugged him tightly. I turned my face away because I was afraid I might change my mind at this last minute. I then held her in my arms, walking from the bedroom, through the sitting room, to the hallway. Her hand surrounded my neck softly and naturally. I held her body tightly; it was just like our wedding day.
But her much lighter weight made me sad. On the last day, when I held her in my arms I could hardly move a step. Our son had gone to school. I held her tightly and said, I hadn't noticed that our life lacked intimacy. I drove to office... jumped out of the car swiftly without locking the door. I was afraid any delay would make me change my mind... I walked upstairs. Dew opened the door and I said to her, Sorry, Dew, I do not want the divorce anymore.
She looked at me, astonished. Then touched my forehead. Do you have a fever? She said. I moved her hand off my head. Sorry, Dew, I said, I won't divorce.
Dew seemed to suddenly wake up. She gave me a loud slap and then slammed the door and burst into tears. I walked downstairs and drove away. At the floral shop on the way, I ordered a bouquet of flowers for my wife. The sales girl asked me what to write on the card. I smiled and wrote: I ll carry you out every morning until we are old

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Last edited by *mu'min*; 09-19-2008 at 04:33 AM..
   
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Default Re: Short Stories - 09-19-2008



^That is such an emotional story...

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