In this thread you are welcome to post any inspiring short stories that you have. I have revised the thread and removed excess posts from it. Please keep the stories islamic and in-line with forum rules. Please make sure that you read the thread before posting as there were cases where the same story was posted at least 3 times. Also, your story may have already been posted elsewhere on the forum if it relates to another topic. Please search the forum using the search feature. If you appreciate someone's story please use the reputation system to express your comments as the thread becomes hard to navigate when filled mostly with comments and few stories.
JazakumAllahu khairan.
Last edited by Ansar Al-'Adl; 08-22-2005 at 01:46 PM.
We all must have seen a fly trapped in a room ! If it reaches a glass window it continues to flutter at the glass, trying to escape. It does not think there can be other openings in the room to escape !
Story 2 :
Once there was a sales man whose sales ranged between 80% to 95% of his budget. Disheartened with the results, he took an appointment with a marketing consultant, to know where he was wrong. He reached the consultant's office at the appointed time. After entering the office he saw two doors, instead of a receptionist. One door was marked "SALES LESS THAN 100%" and the other door was marked "SALES MORE THAN 100%". Since his average sale was less than 100%, he entered to the Ist door. After entering the room he found two more doors - one was marked "EARN INCENTIVES" and the other door was marked "NOT EARN INCENTIVES". Since he did not earn incentive on regular basis, he entered the IInd door. He again found two doors, one was marked "HAPPY WITH YOUR SELF" and the other was marked "NOT HAPPY WITH YOUR SELF". Since he was not an achiever, he was not happy and so entered the IInd door. And surprisingly on entering it he found himself on the same street where he had entered.
Moral of these two stories
If we continue to work with same attitude and with same approach, if our style of functioning remains the same, if we take same steps then we will meet the same fate. Similar actions again and again will lead to similar results, again and again. To get different or desired results : we have to bring about a change in our attitude, in our approach towards our customer, bring about a change in our style of functioning, thus we must open different doors.
Once upon a time there was a rich King who had four wives. He loved the 4th wife the most and adorned her with rich robes and treated her to the finest of delicacies. He gave her nothing but the best. He also loved the 3rd wife very much and was always showing her off to neighboring kingdoms. However, he feared that one day she would leave him for another. He also loved his 2nd wife. She was his confidant, and was always kind, considerate and patient with him. Whenever the King faced a problem, he could confide in her, and she would help him get through the difficult times.
The King's 1st wife was a very loyal partner and had made great contributions in maintaining his wealth and kingdom. However, he did not love the first wife. Although she loved him deeply, he hardly took notice of her! One day, the King fell ill and he knew his time was short. He thought of his luxurious life and wondered, "I ! now have four wives with me, but when I die, I'll be all alone."Thus, he asked the 4th wife, "I have loved you the most, endowed you with the finest clothing and showered great care over you. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?"
"No way!", replied the 4th wife, and she walked away without another word. Her answer cut like a sharp knife right into his heart.
The sad King then asked the 3rd wife, "I have loved you all my life. Now that I'm dying, will you follow me and keep me company?" "No!", replied the 3rd wife. "Life is too good! When you die, I'm going to remarry!" His heart sank and turned cold.
He then asked the 2nd wife, "I have always turned to you for help and you've always been there for me. When I die, will you follow me and keep me company?" "I'm sorry, I can't help you out this time!", replied the 2nd wife. "At the very most, I can only send you to your grave." Her answer came like a bolt of lightning, and the King was devastated.
Then a voice called out: "I'll leave with you and follow you no matter where you go." The King looked up, and there was his first wife. She was so skinny as she suffered from malnutrition and neglect. Greatly grieved, the King said, "I should have taken much better care of you when I had the chance!"
In truth, we all have 4 wives in our lives: Our 4th wife is our body. No matter how much time and effort we lavish in making it look good, it will leave us when we die.
Our 3rd wife is our possessions, status and wealth. When we die, it will all go to others.
Our 2nd wife is our family and friends. No matter how much they have been there for us, the furthest they can stay by us is up to the grave.
And our 1st wife is our Soul. Often neglected in pursuit of wealth, power and pleasures of the world. However, our Soul is the only thing that will follow us wherever we go.
The Brick
A young and successful executive was traveling down a neighborhood street,
going a bit too fast in his new Jaguar. He was watching for kids darting out
from between parked cars and slowed down when he thought he saw something.
As his car passed, no children appeared. Instead, a brick smashed into the
Jag's side door! He slammed on the brakes and spun the Jag back to the spot
from where the brick had been thrown.
He jumped out of the car, grabbed some kid and pushed him up against a
parked car shouting, "What was that all about and who are you? Just what the
heck are you doing?!" Building up a head of steam he went on. That's a new
car and that brick you threw is going to cost a lot of money. Why did you do
it?"
"Please, mister, please. I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do,"
pleaded the youngster. "I threw the brick because no one else would stop..."
Tears were dripping down the boy's chin as he pointed around the parked car.
"It's my brother," he said. "He rolled off the curb and fell out of his
wheelchair and I can't lift him up." Sobbing, the boy asked the executive,
"Would you please help me get him back into his wheelchair? He's hurt and
he's too heavy for me."
Moved beyond words, the driver tried to swallow the rapidly swelling lump in
his throat. He lifted the young man back into the wheelchair and took out
his handkerchief and wiped the scrapes and cuts, checking to see that
everything was going to be okay. "Thank you and may God bless you," the
grateful child said to him.
The man then watched the little boy push his brother down the sidewalk
toward their home. It was a long walk back to his jaguar....a long, slow
walk. He never did repair the side door. He kept the dent to remind him not
to go through life so fast that someone has to throw a brick at you to get
your attention.
"God whispers in your soul and speaks to your heart. Sometimes when you
don't have time to listen, He has to throw a brick at you. It's your choice:
Listen to the whisper - or wait for the brick."
I actually stole that one from br. zAk.
Last edited by Ansar Al-'Adl; 08-22-2005 at 01:48 PM.
A beautiful story and moral. I could tell by the font anyway
Love and Time
Once upon a time, there was an island where all the feelings lived: Happiness, Sadness, Knowledge, and all of the others, including Love. One day it was announced to the feelings that the island would sink, so all constructed boats and left. Except for Love.
Love was the only one who stayed. Love wanted to hold out until the last possible moment.
When the island had almost sunk, Love decided to ask for help.
Richness was passing by Love in a grand boat. Love said,
"Richness, can you take me with you?"
Richness answered, "No, I can't. There is a lot of gold and silver in my boat. There is no place here for you."
Love decided to ask Vanity who was also passing by in a beautiful vessel. "Vanity, please help me!"
"I can't help you, Love. You are all wet and might damage my boat," Vanity answered.
Sadness was close by so Love asked, "Sadness, let me go with you."
"Oh . . . Love, I am so sad that I need to be by myself!"
Happiness passed by Love, too, but she was so happy that she did not even hear when Love called her.
Suddenly, there was a voice, "Come, Love, I will take you." It was an elder. So blessed and overjoyed, Love even forgot to ask the elder where they were going. When they arrived at dry land, the elder went her own way. Realizing how much was owed the elder,
Love asked Knowledge, another elder, "Who Helped me?"
"It was Time," Knowledge answered.
"Time?" asked Love. "But why did Time help me?"
Knowledge smiled with deep wisdom and answered, "Because only Time is capable of understanding how valuable Love is."
This is a story my aunt once told me and mashallah its really beautiful
Once there were these two men that lived in a nursery home. The first person that registered got a place by the window. The man that sat near the window would gaze at it for hours. The other man would watch him and wonder what he was gazing at.
so one day he asks the man, "can you please tell me what you see my friend, as i am paralyzed and cannot see from where i am sitting" the man smiled and said, "My friend i see the most beautiful things...i see flowers growing, the sun shining, children playing, everything is so beautiful." the paralyzed man soon started to get jealous and couldnt wait until this man left so he could take his place by the window.
Every day he would ask this man what he saw and everyday it was the same reply "its beautiful." The paralyzed man would get start to feel anticipated and wish this old man would leave so he could see the same beautiful things.
A day comes along and the paralyzed man realizes his friend is not there anymore. So he asks the nurse, "Where is the man that sits here by the window." she tells him that he had just passed away. The paralyzed man gains a spark in his face, so he asks the nurse "May i have the place near the window since he is not there anymore?" she says ofcoarse. So she places him near the window. He takes a look outside and says "WHAT!?" the nurse looks at him and asks " is there something wrong?" the paralyzed man replies, "why is there a brick wall here, where are all the beautiful things the man described to me?" the nurse looks at him in confusion and says "The man that used to sit here was blind." The paralyzed man began to feel shameful for his friend was describing the beauty of the world to make him feel happy since he was unable to see out of the window himself, yet he proved to show that the blindest of all men was him.
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.
"I spent thirty years learning manners, and I spent twenty years learning knowledge."
my mom only had one eye..
i hated the fact that i had to be stuck with a retard for a mother.
i hated her... she was such an embarressment..
my mom ran a small shop at a flea market.
she collected little weeds and such to sell... anything for the money we needed
she was such an embarressment.
there was this one day during elementary school..
it was field day, and my mom came.
i was so embarressed. how could she do this to me? i threw her a hateful look and ran out.
the next day at school...
"your mom's a retard with one eye?!?!" ..and they taunted me.
i wished that my mom would just dissappear from this world
so i said to my mom,
"mom.. why dont you have the other eye?!
if you're only gonna make me a laughingstock, why dont you just die?!!!"
my mom did not respond..
i guess i felt a little bad, but at the same time, it felt good to think that i had said what i'd wanted to say all this time..
maybe it was because my mom hadnt punished me,
but i didnt think that i had hurt her feelings very badly.
that night...
i woke up, and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water.
my mom was crying there, so quietly, as if she was afraid that she might wake me.
i took a look at her, then turned away.
because of the thing i had said to her earlier, there was something pinching at me in the corner of my heart.
even so, i hated my mother who was crying out of her one eye. so i told myself that i would grow up and become successful.
cause i hated my one-eyed mom and our desperate poverty..
then i studied real hard.
i left my mother and came to Seoul and studied, and got accepted in the Seoul University with all the confidence i had.
then, i got married.
i bought a house of my own.
then i had kids, too..
now i'm living happily as a successful man.
i like it here because it's a place that doesnt remind me of my mom.
this happiness was getting bigger and bigger, when..
what?!
who's this?!
...it was my mother...
..still with her one eye.
it felt as if the whole sky was falling apart on me.
my little girl ran away, scared of my mom's eye.
and i asked her,
"who are you?!"
"i dont know you!!!" as if trying to make that real. i screamed at her," how dare you come to my house and scare my daughter!"
"GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!!!"
and to this, my mother quietly answered,
"oh, i'm so sorry. i may have gotten the wrong address,"
and she dissappeared out of sight.
thank good ness... she doesnt recognize me..
i was quite relieved.
i told myself that i wasnt going to care, or think about this for the rest of my life.
then a wave of relief came upon me...
one day, a letter regarding a school reunion came to my house. so, lying to my wife that i was going on a business trip, i went.
after the reunion, i went down to the old shack, that i used to call a house...just out of curiosity
there, i found my mother fallen on the cold ground.
but i did not shed a single tear.
she had a piece of paper in her hand.... it was a letter to me.
my son...
i think my life has been long enough now..
and... i wont visit Seoul anymore...
but would it be too much to ask if i wanted you to come visit me once in a while?
i miss you so much.. and i was so glad when i heard you were coming for the reunion.
but i decided not to go to the school.
...for you...
and i'm sorry that i only have one eye, and i was an embarressment for you.
you see, when you were very little, you got into an accident, and lost your eye. as a mom, i couldnt stand watching you having to grow up with only one eye... so i gave you mine...
i was so proud of my son that was seeing a whole new wolrd for me, in my place, with that eye. i was never upset at you for anything you did.. the couple times that you were angry with me,.. i thought to myself, 'it's because he loves me..'
my son... oh, my son...
i dont want you to cry for me, because of my death.
please dont cry....
my son, i love you so much.
something gripped the corner of my heart.
and tears were flowing from the eye that my mother had given me..
my mom... my loving mom...
such simple words as 'i love you', that i never told her...
such simple things as buying my mom a dinner.
such simple things as buying her pretty clothes... that i never did...
and still, my mom loved me til her very end....
im sorry..
it wasnt my mom that was the retard with one eye...
it was me, that....
all these things i realized too late... mother, please forgive me...
mother, im sorry... im so sorry.....
and the words i never got around to telling you,....
I Am Not Sad A letter from a son of a Shaheed
Translated by Umm Rawhiyah
This a translation (from Urdu) of a letter written by the son of a Shaheed, to Allaah, subhaanahu wa ta'aala, after his father was martyred in Kashmir.
My dear, Allah. How wonderful You are. You have blessed us immensely, yet we fail to thank You for these blessings.
Despite this fact, You continue to bless us every day, in so many ways.
O Allah, You are so Great. You guided us to the straight path and informed us of the deeds we should perform in order to enter Jannah. However, we are so imprudent that we neglect those deeds which will take us to Jannah.
O Allah, How is my Daddy? He is well isn’t he? You have admitted my Daddy into Your Paradise, haven’t you?
O Allah! My Daddy abandoned everything and sacrificed his life to glorify Your Deen. He did not give priority to anything in this World; neither wealth, nor property; as a matter of fact, he forgot about everything else and just remembered that Islam should be superior on this Earth. O Allah! It is for this reason that he used to tell us stories about Muhammad Qasim, about Mahmood Ghazanwi, about Tariq Bin Ziyaad and of Khalid Bin Waleed. Eventually, he too, like them, raised arms against the enemy and continued to fight until the last drop of his blood had spilt from his body. O Allah! Give my Salaam to my Daddy and tell him that his little boy is absolutely fine. O Allah, please also tell him that his little boy kept the first fast of his life, during this Ramadhan.
Oh Allah swt! Tell my Daddy not to be worried in our absence; the life of this world is very short. Mommy says that the life of this world will end suddenly, and then no Mommy, Daddy, brother, sister, son, or daughter will be of any use. However on that day the Shaheed will be able to intercede for seventy members of his family and lead them into Jannah.
O Allah! Tell my Daddy that whenever oummy talks to me about him, she is very sorrowful, but she gives me a lot of courage. She weeps silently, but has never cried impatiently and uncontrollably. O Allah! Tell my Daddy not to get distressed; My mommy is very courageous. She earns a living by sewing clothes and washing dishes for people in our neighbourhood. She sends me to school during the day and to the Masjid in the evening. At the masjid I learn the Qur’an from the Qari. My Mommy has never complained to anyone.
Instead, at night time after finishing her work, she she tells me stories of bravery and courage, as my daddy used to, and says I must avenge the killing of my daddy.
O Allah! Eid is near. The other children are going to buy new shoes with their fathers. They have had new garments tailor-made and have bought Eid gifts to exchange with friends. Whenever I ask Mommy to buy me some new shoes and clothes she does not answer me. She just remains silent and goes into the other room. Now I have stopped asking her.
Maybe she has a good reason.
But Allah! Tell my Daddy not to worry. Even if I do not get new clothes, even if I do not get new shoes; so what? Eid is but a day, it will pass. Instead of passing the day playing, as children do and instead of going to the markets, I will spend it in the company of my Mommy. Anyway, I am no longer a child. I have matured. My courage and resolve are very strong.
O Allah! Tell my Daddy that we are very happy. We do not lack anything. Just tell Dad to remember us; and Allah, tell my Dad not to worry, as I no longer cry.
There is no one who will lovingly tell me off, there is no one to play fight with me, there is no one who will pretend to be upset with me, but Mommy tries to ensure that I am always happy.
When I hear of the children of Afghanistan and Iraq, that their homes have been destroyed and their parents murdered by the oppressors, I forget about my own sorrows. I see their pictures in the newspapers; they sit despondently; some sit on the rubble of their houses, some sit forlorn on the dead bodies of their relatives. And that is why, Allah, I would like You to tell my Daddy not to worry, because I am not sad.
He remembered his grandmother's warning about praying on time: "My son, you shouldn't leave prayer to this late time". His grandmother's age was 70 but whenever she heard the Adhan, she got up like an arrow and performed Salah. He, however could never win over his ego to get up and pray. Whatever he did, his Salah was always the last to be offered and he prayed it quickly to get it in on time.
Thinking of this, he got up and realized that there were only 15 minutes left before Salat-ul Isha. He quickly made Wudhu and performed Salat-ul Maghrib. While making Tasbih, he
again remembered his grandmother and was embarrassed by how he had prayed. His grandmother prayed with such tranquility and peace.
He began making Dua and went down to make Sajdah and stayed like that for a while. He had been at school all day and was tired, so tired.
He awoke abruptly to the sound of noise and shouting. He was sweating profusely. He looked around. It was very crowded. Every direction he looked in was filled with people. Some stood frozen looking around, some were running left and right and
some were on their knees with their heads in their hands just waiting.
Pure fear and apprehension filled him as he realized where he was. His heart was about to burst. It was the Day of Judgement. When he was alive, he had heard many things about the questioning on the Day of Judgement, but that seemed so long ago. Could this be something his mind made up? No, the wait and the fear were so great that he could not have imagined this.
The interrogation was still going on. He began moving frantically from people to people to ask if his name had been called. No one could answer him. All of a sudden his name was called and the crowd split into two and made a passageway for him.
Two angels grabbed his arms and led him forward. He walked with unknowing eyes through the crowd. The angels brought him to the center and left him there. His head was bent down and
his whole life was passing in front of his eyes like a movie. He opened
his eyes but saw only another world.
The people were all helping others. He saw his father running from one lecture to the other, spending his wealth in the way of Islam. His mother invited guests to their house and one table was being set while the other was being cleared. He pleaded his case, "I too was always on this path. I helped others. I spread the word of Allah. I performed my Salah. I fasted in the month of Ramadan. Whatever Allah ordered us to do, I did. Whatever he ordered us not to do, I did not." He began to cry and think about how much he loved Allah.
He knew
that whatever he had done in life would be less than what Allah deserved and his only protector was Allah.
He was sweating like never before and
was shaking all over. His eyes were fixed on the scale, waiting for the
final decision. At last, the decision was made. The two angels with sheets of paper in their hands, turned to the crowd. His legs felt like they were going to collapse. He closed his eyes as they began to read the names of those people who were to enter Jahannam.
His name was read first.
He fell on his knees and yelled that this couldn't be, "How could I go to Jahannam? I served others all my life, I spread the word of Allah to
others". His eyes had become blurry and he was shaking with sweat. The two angels took him by the arms. As his feet dragged, they went through the crowd and advanced toward the blazing flames of Jahannam.
He was yelling and wondered if there was any person who was going to help him. He was yelling of all the good deeds he had done, how he had helped his father, his fasts, prayers, the Qur'an that he read, he was asking if none of them would help him. The Jahannam angels continued to drag him.
They had gotten closer to the Hellfire. He looked back and these were his last pleas. Had not Rasulullah [saw] said, "How clean would a person be who bathes in a river five times a day, so too does the Salah performed five times cleanse someone of their sins"?
He began yelling, "My prayers? my prayers? my prayers." The two angels did not stop, and they came to the edge of the abyss of Jahannam. The flames of the fire were burning his
face. He looked back one last time, but his eyes were dry of hope and he had nothing left in him.
One of the angels pushed him in. He found
himself in the air and falling towards the flames. He had just fallen five or six feet when a hand grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back.
He lifted his head and saw an old man with a long white beard. He wiped some dust off himself and asked him, "Who are you?" The old man replied, "I am your prayers". "Why are you so late! I was almost in the Fire! You rescued
me at the last minute before I fell in".
The old man smiled and shook his
head, "You always performed me at the last minute, did you forget?"
At
that instant, he blinked and lifted his head from Sajdah. He was in a
sweat. He listened to the voices coming from outside. He heard the adhan for Salat-ul Isha. He got up quickly and went to perform Wudhu.
Pass
this on to ur friends and family, and maybe u can help someone open their eyes........ and who knows?? maybe this is a good deed that can help you during the day of judgement....right???
“Whoever puts his trust in Allah, sufficient is Allah for him.”
One day, Malik bin Dinar (rahimaullah) was passing by a place when he noticed a young man wearing old clothes and crying by the roadside. His name was Uthbah. Sweat was dripping down his body even though the temperature was very cold at that time. Malik bin Dinar became very surprised at this scene and asked Uthbah, "Oh young man, why are you crying? And why are you sweating during this cold temperature?"
Uthbah replied, "Once, I committed a sin at this place. Today, as I was passing by this place, I remembered that sin."
Source: Obtained from the book "Tambihul Ghafileen" by Shaikh Abul Laith Samarkandi.
Look how pious were the early Muslims. Today, we are committing thousands of sins, yet, we are walking around with happiness and joy as if we have nothing to worry about.
The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) dispatched towards the sea-shore an expedition of three hundred men, under the command of Abu Ubaidah (ra) in 8 A.H. He gave them a bag full of dates for their rations. They had been hardly out for fifteen days when they ran short of rations. In order to provide the contingent with food, Qais (ra) began buying three camels daily from his own men, to feed the Mujahideen, with a promise to pay on return to Madinah. The Amir seeing that the slaugther of camels would deprive the party of their only means of transport, prohibited him to do so. He collected the dates that had been left with each person and stored them in a bag. He would issue one date to each man as his daily ration. When Jabir (ra) later on narrated this story to the people, one of his audience inquired:
"How did you manage to live upon one date only for the whole day?" He replied: "We longed even for that one date, when the whole stock was exhausted. We were on the verge of starvation. We moistened the dry tree-leaves with water and ate them."
When they reached this stage, Allah had mercy on them for He always brings ease after every hardship, provided it is endured patiently. A big fish known as "Ambar" was thrown out of the sea for them. The fish was so big that they lived on it for eighteen days altogether. They also filled their satchels with the remaining portion, which lasted them right up to Madinah. When the episode was narrated to the Prophet (peace be upon him), he said: "The fish was a provision arranged for you by Allah."
Source: From the book "Stories of the Sahabah" by Shaikh Muhammad Zakariyya Kandhalvi.
We are Muslims today because of such sacrifices by the companions of Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him). We should remember these events as a source of comfort whenever we too are faced with difficulties regarding practising Islam
Angel Jibrail (as) told Rasulullah (peace be upon him) the follwing incident about a man in the past who worshipped Allah Ta'ala continuously for 500 years. He was granted a shelter on top of a mountain that was surrounded by salty water. However, Allah caused a stream of sweet water to flow through the mountain for that individual. The man would drink from this water and use it to make ablution. Allah Ta'ala also raised a pomegranate tree from which the man would eat one fruit every day.
One day, this person supplicated to Allah that, "Oh Allah, bring my death while I am in the state of prostration." Allah accepted this dua of his. Whenever Jibrail (as) came down to the Earth, he found this man prostrating to Allah. Jibrail (as) said that on the day of Judgement, Allah will tell the angels to take this individual to Paradise through His mercy. However, this man will insist that he should enter paradise through the good deeds that he had performed.
Then, Allah will tell the angels to compare his good deeds with the blessings that were given to him in the world. It will be seen that 500 years of his worship does not even equal to the gift of eye sight that was given to him by Allah. The angels will be asked to take him towards the hell fire. Then the man will plead, "Oh Allah! Enter me into Paradise only through Your mercy." At that point, the following discussion will take place between Allah and that man.
Allah: Oh my servant, who created you?
The worshipper: Oh Allah, You have created me.
Allah: Were you created because of the good deeds you have done or because of My mercy?
The worshipper: Because of Your mercy.
Allah: Who granted you the ability to worship for 500 years?
The worshipper: Oh the Almighty! You have granted me that ability.
Allah: Who placed you on the mountain surrounded by the ocean? Who caused a stream of sweet water to flow in between the salty water? Who caused a pomegranate tree to grow for you? Who granted you death while in the state of prostration?
The worshipper: Oh the Sustainer of the Worlds! You have done all of these.
Then Allah will say, "All these have happened due to My mercy and you too will enter Paradise only through My Mercy."
Source: Obtained from the book "Tambihul Ghafileen" by Shaikh Abul Laith Samarkandi.
We can never thank Allah for the blessings that He has given us. Let us use these blessings to recognize Allah before our death.
There was a little girl (six years old) who was fasting in Ramadhan, even though it is not obligatory on people below the age of puberty. She was in school, and at lunch time, when all the other children went out to eat and have lunch, she sat in the classroom, because she was fasting. Her (non-muslim) teacher thought that she was too young to fast, and so said that it was not necessary, and she could eat a little. The girl still didn't eat. Then the teacher said: "Your parents are not here, it doesn't matter if you eat a little". The girl replied: "I am not fasting for my parents, I am fasting for Allah". This simple statement had such a profound effect on the teacher, that later she accepted Islam.
I remember i read a story of a little girl somewhere. It was around Christmas time and her school was celebrating Christmas. She sorta stayed out of it and the kids were making fun of her because she wasnt allowed to celebrate Christmas. The girl turned to them and said " You celebrate the birthday of one prophet, while us as muslims, are grateful for all of Allah's prophets." Everyone was and
Just to share a thought: an experience. This past Winter Vacation I attended a MAS (Muslim American Society) Camp in the mountains of Bakersfield, California. When we arrived at the campsite, it began to become very windy. The strong wind remained until the following evening. It was time for Isha prayer that night and as you know, it is very quiet in the mountains. All we could hear is the strong wind blowing outside. After the Imam (who had very beautiful tajweed) was finishing Surah Al-Fatiha, the strong winds knocked out the electricity and we were plunged in darkness. There we were standing side by side in the darkness with only the subtle glow of the moon on our faces and the howling of the wind outside. I could hear the Imam's voice carrying outside in the wind and fading away. It was a very, very surreal experience, and probably the most amazing Salat I have performed. After Salat others said the same... of how amazing that simple experience was. Of course, we were still in darkness at that time. Just to finish the story, before I get back to the point I was making. The Sheikh over there had told us all to make Istighfar and make Dua'a to Allah SWT to return the electricity to us and make the strong winds dissipate and give us a sunny day. The Sheikh said that he has no doubt that if we make sincere Dua'a these winds will be gone by tomorrow. To be truthful, I had a little doubt in my heart that that would happen. The wind had been blowing strongly and the weather freezing for two days straight, I didn't see it letting up so quickly. The electricity returned within one hour. And brothers and sisters, I kid you not... the following day when we got up, it was a beautiful calm and sunny day. It was unbelievable, Alhamdulillah.
Two friends Ismail and Ibrahim were walking through the desert, as the sun was beating down on their heads, and they were thirsty for water they began to argue. The argument got more and more heated and eventually Ismail struck Ibrahim across the face. Ibrahim felt hurt inside, but without anything to say, he wrote in the sand: "Today, my best friend slapped me in the face."
They kept on walking, until eventually they came across an oasis, where they decided to stop and bathe. Ibrahim jumped in and began to wash, while Ismail sat back and relaxed. Suddenly Ibrahim began to scream and shout, he had developed a cramp and was having difficulty keeping his head above water, he was drowning.
Ismail dived in after him, and brought him gently to shore. When Ibrahim recovered from the shock, he scratched a message on a nearby stone:
"Today, my best friend saved my life"
Ismail who had saved and slapped his best friend Ibrahim, asked him, "Why, after I hurt you, you wrote in the sand, and now you write on a stone?"
Ibrahim, smiled and replied:
"When a friend hurts us, we should write his deeds in the sand, where the winds of forgiveness can blow it away, and when a friend does something good, we should engrave it in stone, where it shall remain for eternity."
"Show forgiveness, enjoin what is good, and turn away from the ignorant (i.e. don't punish them). If a suggestion from Satan assails your mind, seek refuge with Allah; for He heareth and knoweth (all things)"
Now that was a touching story! Here is another one:
My Teacher - Mrs. Maryam........
Her name was Mrs. Maryam. As she stood in front of her 5th grade class on the very first day of school, she told the children a lie. Like most teachers, she looked at her students and said that she loved them all the same. But that was impossible, because there in the front row, slumped in his seat, was a little boy named Taahir Sulayman. Mrs. Maryam had watched Taahir the year before and noticed that he didn't play well with the other children that his clothes were messy and that he constantly needed a bath. And Taahir could be unpleasant. It got to the point where Mrs. Maryam would actually take delight in marking his papers with a broad red pen, making bold X's and then putting a big "F" at the top of his papers. At the school where Mrs. Maryam taught, she was required to review each child's past records and she put Taahir's off until last. However, when she reviewed his file, she was in for a surprise. Taahir's first grade teacher wrote, "Taahir is a bright child with a ready laugh. He does his work neatly and has good manners...he is a joy to be around." His second grade teacher wrote, "Taahir is an excellent student, well liked by his classmates, but he is troubled because his mother has a terminal illness and life at home must be a struggle." His third grade teacher wrote, "His mother's death has been hard on him. He tries to do his best, but his father doesn't show much interest and his home life will soon affect him if some steps aren't taken." Taahir's fourth grade teacher wrote, "Taahir is withdrawn and doesn't show much interest in school. He doesn't have many friends and he sometimes sleeps in class." By now, Mrs. Maryam realized the problem and she was ashamed of herself. She felt even worse when her students brought her Eid presents, wrapped in beautiful ribbons and bright paper, except for Taahir's. His present was clumsily wrapped in the heavy, brown paper that he got from a grocery bag. Mrs. Maryam took pains to open it in the middle of the other presents. Some of the children started to laugh when she found a rhinestone bracelet with some of the stones missing, and a bottle that was one quarter full of perfume. But she stifled the children's laughter when she exclaimed how pretty the bracelet was, putting it on, and dabbing some of the perfume on her wrist. Taahir Sulayman stayed after school that day just long enough to say, "Mrs. Maryam, today you smelled just like my Mom used to." After the children left she cried for at least an hour. On that very day, she quit teaching reading, and writing, and arithmetic. Instead, she began to teach children. Mrs. Maryam paid particular attention to Taahir. As she worked with him, his mind seemed to come alive. The more she encouraged him, the faster he responded. By the end of the year, Taahir had become one of smartest children in the class and, despite her lie that she would love all the children the same, Taahir became one of her "teacher's pets." A year later, she found a note under her door, from Taahir, telling her that she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life. Six years went by before she got another note from Taahir. He then wrote that he had finished high school, third in his class, and she was still the best teacher he ever had in his whole life. Four years after that, she got another letter, saying that while things had been tough at times, he'd stayed in school, had stuck with it, and would soon graduate from college with the highest of honors. He assured Mrs. Maryam that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had in his whole life. Then four more years passed and yet another letter came. This time he explained that after he got his bachelor's degree, he decided to go a little further. The letter explained that she was still the best and favorite teacher he ever had. But now his name was a little longer -- the letter was signed, Taahir F. Sulayman, MD. The story doesn't end there. You see, there was yet another letter that spring. Taahir said he'd met this girl and was going to be married. He explained that his father had died a couple of years ago and he was wondering if Mrs. Maryam might agree to sit in, as his "mother" at the wedding . Of course, Mrs. Maryam did. And guess what? She wore that bracelet, the one with several rhinestones missing. And she made sure she was wearing the perfume that Taahir remembered his mother wearing on their last Eid together. They hugged each other, and Dr. Taahir whispered in Mrs. Maryam's ear, "Thank you Mrs. Maryam for believing in me. Thank you so much for making me feel important and showing me that I could make a difference." Mrs. Maryam, with tears in her eyes, whispered back. She said,"Taahir,you have it all wrong. You were the one who taught me that I could make a difference. I didn't really know how to teach until I met you." Please remember that wherever you go, and whatever you do, you will have the opportunity to touch and/or change a person's outlook. Please try to do it in a positive way. Our Teachers, Friends, Family, parents, spouses and our children are there, to lift us to our feet when our feet have trouble,remembering how to crawl. Make a positive step and assist someone to take the first steps.
"I spent thirty years learning manners, and I spent twenty years learning knowledge."
Once a king purchased 2 slaves. One of them was very handsome while the other was very ugly.
The king asked the handsome slave to go and take a bath. While he was away the king turned to the other slave and said "Your companion has given a very bad account of you, he said that you are a thief and of bad character. Is this correct?"
The slave replied that his companion was a handsome person, and his exterior beauty must be reflected by inward beauty as well. He could not believe that such a beautiful man could tell a lie. He therefore said "If my companion has a bad opinion about me, there must certainly be something wrong with me. I am afraid he must be correct."
The king observed that beauty was only an Allah given gift, and it did not follow that a person who had a handsome face had a pure heart as well.
The king was greatly impressed with the character and intelligence of this slave. In the meantime, the first slave had returned from his bath.
The king sent the second slave (i.e. the ugly slave to have a bath) and in his absence told the handsome slave that his fellow slave had given a bad account of him. On hearing this, the slave burst into invectives against his companion and said that he was a rascal and a liar.
The king thus came to the conclusion that the slave with a beautiful face had no inner worth while the slave with an ugly face had much inner worth.
The moral of the story is that beauty is only skin deep. All that glitters is not gold. "Every man is hidden under his own tongue" The tongue reveals the inner intelligence as well as inner vileness . "The safety of a man lies in holding his tongue"
Rasulullaah (s.a.w.s) said: " He who is silent is successful!"
The only survivor of a shipwreck was washed up on a small, uninhabited island.
He prayed feverishly for Allah to rescue him, and every day he scanned the horizon for help, but none seemed forthcoming.
Exhausted, he eventually managed to build a little hut out of driftwood to protect him from the elements and to store his few possessions.
But then one day, after scavenging for food, he arrived home to find his little hut in flames, the smoke rolling up to the sky. The worst had happened; everything was lost. He was stunned with grief and anger.
"Allah, how could you do this to me!" he cried. Early the next day, however, he was awakened by the sound of a ship that was approaching the island. It had come to rescue him.
"How did you know I was here?" asked the weary man of his rescuers. "We saw your smoke signal," they replied.
It is easy to get discouraged when things are going badly. But we shouldn't lose heart, because Allah is at work in our lives, even in the midst of pain and suffering.
Remember, next time your little hut is burning to the ground--it just may be a smoke signal that summons The Grace of Allah.
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