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Showing posts with label islamic Stories. Show all posts
Showing posts with label islamic Stories. Show all posts

Thursday, 2 August 2012

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Had I but Known---A LONG STORY BUT WORTH READING

Anfal, a rich young girl, sat waiting impatiently at the doctor’s clinic to get the results of a medical test. She was in a hurry to attend a party and feared she might be late for her appointment with the hairdresser. She never thought the result would be anything important. It was just a precaution insisted upon by her family.

She had never suff

ered any serious illness, apart from the odd ache in her, apart from the odd ache in her limbs. Then, it was her turn to see the doctor. She hurried inside to get it over with as quickly as possible. She was surprised to see the doctor look sad and concerned as he asked, “Is this yours?”

She answered, “No, it is my daughter’s.”

She wanted to know the truth and thought that perhaps he would hide the truth, if she told him it was her own. He asked her to have a seat, so she sat feeling somewhat afraid. She looked at him anxiously, as he said,

“Why did not you send a man to get the results?”

Anfal said, “It was on my way so there was no need to send someone else.”

The doctor looked sadly at her and said, “You seem to be an educated girl. You understand the nature of life.”

He stopped talking, and she began to tremble.

She asked, “What do you mean doctor?”


The doctor said, “The result indicates that there is a blood disease.” He looked down at his papers and remained silent. Anfal had to ask him to give her more information. She cried in fear, “Is it cancer?”

He did not look at her, but a cloud of sadness covered his face. It was as if he was sentencing her to death.

She said in a broken voice, “I am finished then.” The doctor knew then that she had lied, but it was too late to hide the truth. He looked kindly at her and said, “I am sorry for you. Why did you lie? Anyway life and death are matters within Allah’s power. Many sick people live long and many healthy ones die.”

Anfal felt as if she were drowning, as if a hard fist was cruelly squeezing her heart. She tried hard to regain her strength and said, “I do apologize. Thank you doctor.”

The doctor encouraged her saying, “Be strong and optimistic. Medical science is constantly progressing. Some of today’s incurable sicknesses can be cured tomorrow I still have hope. Leave me your telephone number.” She repeated the number automatically without knowing what she was saying. Feeling great shock and bitterness, she again thanked the doctor and left.

At home she kept the truth to herself. She did not know how to share it. Anyway, everyone was busy, getting ready for the party. Her mother asked, “Have you been to the doctor? Why did not you go to the hairdresser?” It was just a by-the-way question, needing no answer. She briefly said, “I am not going to the party !”

She went upstairs into her room and locked the door.


She stretched out on her bed fully clothed and listened to her family’s voices, as if they were coming from a far away place. The wind seemed to her to be a funeral sad tune, lamenting her approaching death. The bedroom seemed strange to her as she would be leaving it soon. What about the house? It would not remember her. She was just a guest. Others would take her room and soon forget her. She tried to cry but tears did not help.

She looked around her in pain. Those curtains that she had tried so hard to get, would stay after her. It would not have mattered if they had been made of the roughest fabric, she would leave them for others. She wished she had not troubled herself for such things. She wished she had saved her time and money for more useful things, which could have been helpful to her in her difficulty.

She wondered, “What is useful to me?” She was young, beautiful and rich with everything her heart could desire. Could anything help her and save her from death? She had always longed for an official job with a good salary. She had it, but could it save her from death?

An idea struck her. She hurried to the phone while everyone was away. She dialed the doctor’s number and asked eagerly, “If I travel abroad can I find a cure?”

He said, “There is nothing new abroad. It is a waste of money.”

She put the phone down and sat on a nearby chair.


Her salary would not change matters. She walked through the house’s rooms as if saying her farewells. She paced the small garden and looked at the trees. She whispered, “I wish these trees knew I am leaving them, those stones, walls…I wish these doors knew my hands will soon no longer open them. I wish those flowers, that I planted and watered knew. How often the thorns and hard stones tore my hands!

How often I watered those dying flowers with my tears when there was no water. I wish they knew the meaning of my departure. These fruiting trees were tiny when I planted them. I did my best to help them flourish until they grew up healthy and fruitful. Will they know I am soon leaving? Will they remember my days in their company? What about these seats, I used to rest on. Will they miss my presence? Will they be ready for someone else to settle on them? My writing desk felt my writing in tears and in smiles, does it know I am leaving? Will it miss my pen and papers in its drawers? I wish they all knew I am leaving. I wish I had known I was leaving, then I would not have cared so much for this life. I would not have felt proud and arrogant…

Had I known I were a guest in this world I would not have been cheated or tempted by its luxuries…

Had I known this I would have been aware that leaving a simple life is easier than leaving a luxurious one…

Had I lived a simple life, I would not have found it difficult to cross from this world to the next. My family is now enjoying the party…how often I longed for such parties, how much I cared for fashion and hairstyles! Can they help me now?”

Anfal threw herself down on the nearest chair as if she had realized a truth previously unknown to her.


She said, “What shall I take with me? Nothing but the coffin and my deeds. What kind of deeds will go with me on my long journey? Nothing! Yes, nothing!” She remembered her friend Sarah, who used to advise her and guide her to the right path of Allah. She used to remind her of the Qur’anic verse: …and make provision, for the provision is the guarding of oneself. [Al-Baqarah:239]

She had never considered the importance of good deeds. Now she was in need of such deeds to present to Allah. She would stand to give her account, but what would she say? How could she expect Allah’s mercy when she disobeyed His orders? How could she ask for forgiveness when she never even thought of obeying Him in her life’s affairs?

She wished she had read the Holy Qur’an instead of all those cheap novels. She wished she had gained some knowledge of her religion instead of reading film-star magazines. She continued wishing she had done few things, and not done other things. She wished she had not angered this person or that, and had never lied or gossiped about anyone. She wished she had not been proud and despised the poor.

She said, “I wish I could start my life all over again to make-up for my errors and to obey Allah’s orders. I worshipped my desires and ignored my Creator. I wish I could live for a while to make up for my sins.”

She remembered a Qur’anic verse, her grandfather used to recite: Until when death overtakes one of them he says: Send me back, my Lord. Haply I may do good in that which I have left. By no means! It is a mere word that he speaks, and before them is a barrier until the day they are raised. [Al-Mominun: 99]

Here she said, “Oh God, I do mean it…” Tears burst from her eyes. She cried bitterly in repentance, not pain. She decided to obey Allah in all His orders if she lived a bit longer. The phone rang and she walked towards it lazily. Tears in her eyes she said, “Yes?”

Someone said, “Can I speak to Miss Anfal?” She knew the speaker. It was her doctor. She said, “Yes, speaking.”


The doctor said cheerfully, “Congratulations my daughter! There is nothing wrong with you. Thank God!”

She was stunned with surprise. She did not know what to say. “No disease? How? You are joking, doctor!”

The doctor said, “May Allah protect me I am not joking. I have just got an apology from the analyst. He explained that there was a mix-up with the names. Your name was written instead of someone else. I have your medical report here in front of me. You are quite well. Be thankful to Allah my daughter.”

Excitedly she said, “Thanks be to Allah, Thank you doctor.”

She put the phone down, feeling as if she was new born. She knew she was safe for a while, but death would certainly come one day. She had no time to waste. However long she lived she was a guest.

The first thing she did was to perform her prayer, which she had neglected for a long time. She promised Allah to obey His orders to pray, fast, and stick to wearing decent clothes. She would also give up whatever Allah had forbidden. In order not to forget this, she wrote the Qur’anic verse on a placard and hung it on the wall. On the other side she wrote a wise saying:

“Repent the day before you die. Because you do not know when you will die, then always be repentant.”





Sunday, 27 May 2012





Deja Vu
S.Lubna

''WILL YOU NOT LISTEN TO ME?'' he yelled on the top of his voice. A chill ran down my spine.
''Leave my kids alone please Haroon for Allah's sake have mercy. I never spoke anything when you did anything to me. Spare my kids of your wrath please i beg of you'' Maa wept in every breath. Heavy breaths as i could feel them still, being in my room. She begged for mercy, begged and cried repeatedly to her so called 'better half'. But no sign of mercy no silver lining shone in the darkness of evil.
''WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP WOMAN? You have been the cause of all my failures. I used to be so successful, I use to earn enough to provide my family my brothers my mother and even to fill you and your kids' filthy mouths. But you had to cast your omen on me, didn't you? And today you stand up to me, YOU HAVE THE GUTS TO STAND UP TO ME when i am teaching our children to be polite? YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO STAY HERE!!'' he barked with his aged might and pulled my mother with her hair.
I gulped in an uncertain lump of emotions pouring out from my heart. It was like a movie, being telecast again, a scene i'm watching again. A deja vu, of an event fifteen years ago.

I was ten. Too young to understand most things. The age where the kids have the apathy of having the best bag in class, i had the tension to be good to avoid the fights between my parents.
''SAVE MEE ASMAAA SAVE ME!!'' I heard Maa's scream. Too loud to be unheard. I ran back in our house leaving my hopscotch midway. The voice got louder as i approached my home. ''Save me ASMA save me please!'' she begged to a ten year old. I looked at her. Her face had turned red. As she had turned when she gave birth to my youngest brother Luqman. It wasn't long ago. May be some weeks back. Yet that didn't seem the cause she was crying. She was in pain. I could see that. I could see a lot more than that which i never wished to see.
She was still screaming. Mourning. ''ASMAAA...'' her call was turning into a cry. A weep. As i saw Abbu pull her by her hair.

He was yelling something. But i didn't bother to hear. I was scared of him. Since always. I stood near the door fearing to be his other victim. Yet i wanted to save Maa.
Asia, my baby sister, she caught my shirt in fear. She too was scared.
I looked down at her. She didnt look normal. She was trembling. In fear and fever too. I tried consoling her but before i could say anything, we heard a big blow.
I snapped back to see Abbu slap Maa with his belt, his hand, and every cruel tool possible.
Maa screamt louder and Asia started crying. As loud as Maa.
I could bear it no more. I could see Maa bleed. Her fair skin turning red. Her brown eyes fading in tears. Her wounds turning green grey and black.
I was terrified. Horrified to the limit i could be.
How i wish i was strong enough, big enough to save my mother. She was in sheer pain. And i could do nothing.
I caught Asia's had and ran back out to get help. I couldn't leave her alone in that den. With a hunter on the loose, hungry for blood. I just couldn't.
We ran here and there, not knowing what to do. Not knowing whom to ask help from. We ran here and there.

''ASMAA!'' the same cry brought me back to the Deja Vu. I saw a belt in Abbu's hands. His intentions didnt look pure. Asia caught my dress. I looked at her. The fear in her eyes was no more alive. All that i could see was agony. Hate against the act that was about to happen.
No i was scared, scared to look up and see the belt slap my mother's body. I couldn't let it happen again. But it was too late.
Before i could give birth to my thoughts, i heard the blow.
We ran out of the room. Me Asia and Luqman.
We could not bear his wrath on Maa anymore.
''Abbu!'' Asia screamt on the top of her voice.
I ran and hugged Maa to absorb myself any blow that would now harm her.
Abbu raised his belt to hit Asia too. But he could not sway. Luqman held his aged arms wit his adolescent strength and snatched away the belt.
''She is our mother!'' Asia was in tears. ''She bore enough for twenty-five years Abbu, not anymore!'' she forced the words from her heavy throat.
Maa and her three children were now on one side of the LOC. And Abbu on the other side.
I saw him drop down astounded for he just couldn't believe that his kids raised up swords against him.
I guess he realised, what he sowed as the fruit that bloomed was not of his choice but of his orchard.

“You who believe! It is not lawful for you to inherit women by force. Nor may you treat them harshly so that
you can make off with part of what you have given them, unless they commit an act of flagrant indecency.
Live together with them correctly and courteously.
If you dislike them, it may well be that you dislike something in which ALLAH has placed a lot of good.” (4:19)

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Friday, 11 May 2012

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Baker And A Pious Man 

A baker wanted to get to know a great Pious man in his town a little better, so he invited him to dinner. The day before, the pious man went to the bakery disguised as a beggar, picked a bread roll off the display and began to eat it. The baker saw this and tossed him out into the street.

The following day, the pious man and a disciple went to the baker’s house and were treated to a splendid banquet.

In the middle of the meal, the disciple asked, "How does one tell a good man from a bad man?"

"Just look at this baker. He is capable of spending ten gold pieces on a banquet because I am famous, but is incapable of giving a piece of bread to feed a hungry
beggar."

ALLAH does not look at faces He looks at our Hearts..

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Sunday, 6 May 2012






There was a man who had four sons. He wanted his sons to learn to not judge things too quickly. So he sent them each on a quest, in turn, to go and look at a pear tree that was a great distance away.

The first son went in the winter, the second in the spring, the third in summer, and the youngest son in the fall.

When they had all gone and come back, he called them together to describe what they had seen.

The first son said that the tree was ugly, bent, and twisted.

The second son said no – it was covered with green buds and full of promise.

The third son disagreed, he said it was laden with blossoms that smelled so sweet and looked so beautiful, it was the most graceful thing he had ever seen.

The last son disagreed with all of them; he said it was ripe and drooping with fruit, full of life and fulfilment.

The man then explained to his sons that they were all right, because they had each seen but one season in the tree’s life.

He told them that you cannot judge a tree, or a person, by only one season, and that the essence of who they are – and the pleasure, joy, and love that come from that life – can only be measured at the end, when all the seasons are up.

If you give up when it’s winter, you will miss the promise of your spring, the beauty of your summer, fulfilment of your fall.

Don’t judge a life by one difficult season. Don’t let the pain of one season destroy the joy of all the rest.





The Professor began his class by holding up a glass with some water in it.
He held it up for all to see & asked the students "How much do you think
this glass weighs?"
'50gms!'..... '100gms!' .....'125gms' ...the students answered.
"I really don't know unless I weigh it," said the professor, "but, my
question is:
What would happen if I held it up like this for a few minutes?"
'Nothing' ...the students said.
'Ok what would happen if I held it up like this for an hour?' the professor
asked.
'Your arm would begin to ache' said one student.
"You're right, now what would happen if I held it for a day?"
"Your arm could go numb; you might have severe muscle stress & paralysis &
have to go to hospital for sure!"
... ventured another student & all the students laughed "Very good.But during all this, did the weight of the glass change?" Asked the
professor.
'No'.. Was the answer.
"Then what caused the arm ache & the muscle stress?"
The students were puzzled.
"What should I do now to come out of pain?" asked professor again.
"Put d glass down!"said one of d students "Exactly!"said the
professor.
Life's problems are something like this.
Hold it 4 a few min in your head & dey seem OK.
Think of them for a long time & they begin to ache.
Hold it even longer & they begin to paralyze u. You will not be able to do

anything.
It's important to think of d challenges or problems in your life, Bt EVEN
MORE IMPORTANT is to 'PUT THEM DOWN' at the end of every day b4 you go
to sleep...
That way,u r nt stressed,u wake up every day fresh &strng & can
handle any issue, any challenge that comes yr way!
So,when you start your day today, Remember friend to 'PUT THE GLASS DOWN

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They huddled inside the storm door - two children in ragged outgrown coats. "Any old papers, lady?" I was busy. I wanted to say no - until I looked down at their feet. Thin little sandals, sopped with sleet. "Come in and I'll make you a cup of hot cocoa." There was no conversation. Their soggy sandals left marks upon the hearthstone. I served them cocoa and toast with jam to fortify against the chill outside. Then I went back to the kitchen and started again on my household budget... The silence in the front room struck through to me. I looked in. The girl held the empty cup in her hands, looking at it. The boy asked me in a flat voice, "Lady...are you rich?" "Am I rich? Mercy, no!" I looked at my shabby slip covers. The girl put her cup back in its saucer - carefully. "Your cups match your saucers." Her voice was old, with a hunger that was not of the stomach. They left then, holding their bundles of papers against the wind. They hadn't said thank you. They didn't need to. They had done more than that. Plain blue pottery cups and saucers. But they matched. I tested the potatoes and stirred the gravy. Potatoes and brown gravy, a roof over our heads, my man with a good steady job - these things matched, too. I moved the chairs back from the fire and tidied the living room. The muddy prints of small sandals were still wet upon my hearth. I let them be. I want them there in case I ever forget again how very rich I am.

The Prophet (sal Allahu alaihi wa sallam) said: "He who does not thank people is unthankful to Allah." [Abu Dawud]

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Wednesday, 21 December 2011





A SHORT STORY

: A young man in a village refused to believe that ALLAH has total control of everything. He claimed that Allah cannot make him eat food if he didn't want to eat. To prove his point, he decided to stay hungry for a day and see if ALLAH can make him eat.

His mother tried her best to stop this foolishness but he paid no attention. Annoyed of his mother in the evening, he decided to climb a tree and isolate himself there. Being compassionate, his mother decided to leave the food under the tree incase her son finally gives up and wants to eat. When the night fell, a group of robbers were passing by that tree. They noticed a plate of delicious food placed under the tree.
They looked at each other in amazement and thought that someone must be playing a trick on them. May be someone is trying to poison them with good food. They looked around to see if there was anyone nearby and noticed the young man on top of the tree.

The robbers got him down and told him to eat the food to see if it is poisoned. But the young man refused to eat as he is still carrying on his challenge against ALLAH. The robbers became suspicious and started beating the young man to eat. He gave up and started eating.

Seeing that the food was not poisoned, the robbers left him and went away. Finally, the young man admitted that yes, ALLAH has total control of everything.




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Wednesday, 14 December 2011










Our house was directly across the street from the clinic entrance of Johns Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore. We lived downstairs and rented the upstairs rooms to out patients at the clinic.

One summer evening as I was fixing supper, there was a knock at the door. I opened it to see a truly awful looking man. "Why, he's hardly taller than my eight-year-old," I thought as I stared at the stooped, shriveled body. But the appalling thing was his face, lopsided from swelling, red and raw.

Yet his voice was pleasant as he said, "Good evening. I've come to see if you've a room for just one night. I came for a treatment this morning from the eastern shore, and there's no bus 'til morning."

He told me he'd been hunting for a room since noon but with no success, no one seemed to have a room. "I guess it's my face... I know it looks terrible, but my doctor says with a few more treatments..."

For a moment I hesitated, but his next words convinced me: "I could sleep in this rocking chair on the porch. My bus leaves early in the morning."

I told him we would find him a bed, but to rest on the porch. I went inside and finished getting supper. When we were ready, I asked the old man if he would join us. "No thank you. I have plenty." And he held up a brown paper bag.

When I had finished the dishes, I went out on the porch to talk with him a few minutes. It didn't take a long time to see that this old man had an oversized heart crowded into that tiny body. He told me he fished for a living to support his daughter, her five children, and her husband, who was hopelessly crippled from a back injury.

He didn't tell it by way of complaint; in fact, every other sentence was preface with a thanks to God for a blessing. He was grateful that no pain accompanied his disease, which was apparently a form of skin cancer. He thanked God for giving him the strength to keep going.

At bedtime, we put a camp cot in the children's room for him. When I got up in the morning, the bed linens were neatly folded and the little man was out on the porch.

He refused breakfast, but just before he left for his bus, haltingly, as if asking a great favor, he said, Could I please come back and stay the next time I have a treatment? I won't put you out a bit. I can sleep fine in a chair." He paused a moment and then added, "Your children made me feel at home. Grownups are bothered by my face, but children don't seem to mind." I told him he was welcome to come again.

And on his next trip he arrived a little after seven in the morning.

As a gift, he brought a big fish and a quart of the largest oysters I had ever seen. He said he had shucked them that morning before he left so that they'd be nice and fresh. I knew his bus left at 4:00 a.m. and I wondered what time he had to get up in order to do this for us.

In the years he came to stay overnight with us there was never a time that he did not bring us fish or oysters or vegetables from his garden.

Other times we received packages in the mail, always by special delivery; fish and oysters packed in a box of fresh young spinach or kale, every leaf carefully washed. Knowing that he must walk three miles to mail these, and knowing how little money he had made the gifts doubly precious.

When I received these little remembrances, I often thought of a comment our next-door neighbor made after he left that first morning.

"Did you keep that awful looking man last night? I turned him away! You can lose roomers by putting up such people!"

Maybe we did lose roomers once or twice. But oh! If only they could have known him, perhaps their illnesses would have been easier to bear.

I know our family always will be grateful to have known him; from him we learned what it was to accept the bad without complaint and the good with gratitude to God.

Recently I was visiting a friend, who has a greenhouse, as she showed me her flowers, we came to the most beautiful one of all, a golden chrysanthemum, bursting with blooms. But to my great surprise, it was growing in an old dented, rusty bucket. I thought to myself, "If this were my plant, I'd put it in the loveliest container I had!"

My friend changed my mind. "I ran short of pots," she explained, and knowing how beautiful this one would be, I thought it wouldn't mind starting out in this old pail. It's just for a little while, till I can put it out in the garden."

She must have wondered why I laughed so delightedly, but I was imagining just such a scene in heaven. "Here's an especially beautiful one," God might have said when he came to the soul of the sweet old fisherman. "He won't mind starting in this small body."

All this happened long ago - and now, in God's garden, how tall this lovely soul must stand.






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Sunday, 11 December 2011








There were two brothers, who grew up together in a family. First one was a successful school principal, very disciplined and organized. He was respected by students & teachers alike. When asked about the reason for his success, he replied, " It's all because of my father. He was a disciplinarian & never tolerated breaking of any rules. I worked out my own ways to ensure that I don't give him any reason to complain. I owe my success to him."

The other brother turned out to be a ruffian who didn't have any job & ended up in jail many times. When asked about the reason for this behaviour, he replied, " It's all because of my father. He was a great tyrant & authoritarian & never tolerated any of my mistake. One day I couldn't take it any more, rebeled & left my house. He is responsible for destroying my life."

Our life is made of 10% what happens to us, over which we have no control and 90% how we react to it. However, normally we blame our circumstances (which is just 10%) for all our problems.




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Thursday, 1 December 2011








When my Eyes saw the last of Maryam....

I am 23 years old and married. I am young and I have been through a lot in my life.

The first time I wore the hijab, I was 18 years old. Unfortunately, I took it off because of the lack of my knowledge. It is no surprise that ALLAH says in the Qur’an:

“It is only those who have knowledge amongst His slaves that fear Allah.” [Surat Fatir , 35: 28]

Since my knowledge was lacking in Islam, my taqwa was weak. If someone has weak taqwa, how would they have enough fear of ALLAH ? And if they don’t have enough fear of ALLAH, then how would they put on a hijab for ALLAH’s pleasure?

Alhamdulillah, now I have again put on the hijab. I have been wearing the hijab and jilbab, all praise to ALLAH. I learned about how important the hijab is. ALLAH commanded the women in the Qur’an to cover. It is a commandment from ALLAH, and should we question it? No, we don’t question. We should listen and obey.

Under the will of ALLAH, a tragic moment in my life opened my eyes to reality. I was blessed with a precious little baby girl, who we named Maryam. I lost my 2-month daughter to a disease this year. (May ALLAH admit her to Jannah. Ameen.)

I gave my precious little pearl her last bath after death reached her. I washed her tender body and held her delicate lifeless figure. When I carried her to be put into the box, I couldn’t do it…

Another individual, my friend’s mother, covered her with the cloth. The last thing the woman put on my precious child was a hijab. My eyes filled with tears when I saw my baby girl of 2 months covered all over.

I understand, after gaining knowledge, that hijab is so important. We have to seek knowledge, and may ALLAH increase our taqwa! We have to understand that ALLAH knows best and He commanded us to cover ourselves. If we don’t cover now, when will we cover? When we die?

Death will come and that is a fact no one can debate. Are we going to get an invitation to our graves… an invitation letting us know when we are due to our destination, the narrow space in the ground? Will an alarm go on a week before we die so we can prepare ourselves ? Will someone send us an e-mail with a “deadline” title stating that we will die in 5 days ? No.

My beloved sisters, seek knowledge and follow the commandments of ALLAH because we were created to worship Him. My beloved sisters in Islam, put on the hijab for the sake of ALLAH before death comes unannounced. Death came to my little Maryam, and death will come to all of us one day.

Don’t forget my dear sisters what Allah states in the Qur’an:

“Say: The angel of death, who is set over you, will take your souls. Then you shall be brought to your Lord” [as-Sajdah, 32:11]




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Wednesday, 30 November 2011









::: Always be kind to your Mother :::
One day a girl, Sara, who was fifteen years old, came home from school in a very bad mood. She'd had a fight with her best friend that day and it hadn't turned out well at all.
... "Sara!" her mom yelled. "What are you doing? You know to do your chores right when you get home! And you're late!"
"Coming, Mom!" Sara yelled, getting up and stomping towards the kitchen. "What?" she snapped as her mother gave her a stern look, annoyed.
"You'd better straighten up your attitude, young lady," her mom warned, "or you'll be grounded."
"Whatever." Sara began to throw around the dishes in the sink, trying to make as much noise as she possibly could. A plate cracked and cut her hand. Sara cursed.
"Sara!" her mom exclaimed. "How dare you use that language! Go to your room!"
"No!" Sara yelled, throwing down the towel she was using to wipe the blood off her hand.
"Do you want to say 'no' one more time and see what happens?" her mom asked. She looked furious.
"Sure," Sara said sarcastically. "No."
"How dare you!" Her mother slapped her.
Sara shrank back, staring incredulously at her mom. She had never hit Sara before.
"I HATE YOU!" Sara screamed before running out of the house.
"Sara, get back here!" her mom yelled, running after her.
"Leave me alone!" Sara screamed, running across the street. "I HATE YOU!" she screamed again.
She continued running until she heard the sound of screeching tires and a scream. She turned around, hoping that it wouldn't be what she thought it would be....
People were crowding around Sara's mother, who was laying in the middle of the street, looking broken, bloody.
"NOOOO!" Sara screamed, running over and pushing through everyone to kneel by her mom. "Oh no, oh no...."
Her mom wasn't moving or breathing. She was gone. Sara tipped back her head and wailed to the sky, sobbing so hard it hurt.
She couldn't believe the last words she had spoken to her mother were "I hate you".

To everyone out there who tells your parents or friends you hate them, or any other rude thing, remember it might be the last thing you ever say to them.

☻◈☻◈☻◈☻◈☻◈☻◈☻◈☻ ◈☻◈
Thy Lord hath decreed that ye worship none but Him, and that ye be kind to parents. Whether one or both of them attain old age in thy life, say not to them a word of contempt, nor repel them, but address them in terms of honour.
(Al-Quran 17:23)
☻◈☻◈☻◈☻◈☻◈☻◈☻◈☻ ◈☻◈








NON-MUSLIM teacher asked the MUSLIM Student
Teacher : Can you see ALLAH?
Class : No.
Teacher : Can you touch ALLAH?
Class : No
Teacher : Then there isn't ALLAH!

*Student raises their hand and says*
Student : Sir, can you see your brain?
Teacher : No.
Student : Can you touch your brain?
Teacher : No.
Student : Oh okay, so you don't have a brain?




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Tuesday, 29 November 2011

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The Teacup (A short MORAL story )

There was a couple who used to go to shop in the beautiful stores. They both liked antiques and pottery and especially teacups. One day in this beautiful shop they saw a beautiful teacup. They said, "May we see that? We've never seen one quite so beautiful." As the lady handed it to them, suddenly the teacup spoke.

"You don't understand," it said. "I haven't always been a teacup. There was a time when I was red and I was clay." My master took me and rolled me and patted me over and over and I yelled out, "let me alone", but he only smiled, "Not yet."

"Then I was placed on a spinning wheel," the teacup said, "and suddenly I was spun around and around and around. Stop it! I'm getting dizzy!" I screamed. But the master only nodded and said, 'Not yet."

Then he put me in the oven. I never felt such heat. I wondered why he wanted to burn me, and I yelled and knocked at the door. I could see him through the opening and I could read his lips as He shook his head, "Not yet."

Finally the door opened, he put me on the shelf, and I began to cool. "There, that's better," I said. And he brushed and painted me all over. The fumes were horrible. I thought I would gag. "Stop it, stop it!" I cried. He only nodded, "Not yet."

Then suddenly he put me back into the oven, not like the first one. This was twice as hot and I knew I would suffocate. I begged. I pleaded. I screamed. I cried. All the time I could see him through the opening nodding his head saying, "Not yet."

Then I knew there wasn't any hope. I would never make it. I was ready to give up. But the door opened and he took me out and placed me on the shelf. One hour later he handed me a mirror and said, "Look at yourself." And I did. I said, "That's not me; that couldn't be me. It's beautiful. I'm beautiful."

"I want you to remember," then, he said, "I know it hurts to be rolled and patted, but if I had left you alone, you'd have dried up. I know it made you dizzy to spin around on the wheel, but if I had stopped, you would have crumbled.

I knew it hurt and was hot and disagreeable in the oven, but if I hadn't put you there, you would have cracked. I know the fumes were bad when I brushed and painted you all over, but if I hadn't done that, you never would have hardened; you would not have had any color in your life.





And if I hadn't put you back in that second oven, you wouldn't survive for very long because the hardness would not have held. Now you are a finished product. You are what I had in mind when I first began with you."

********ALLAH swt knows what He's doing (for all of us).He is the Potter, and we are His clay.
He will mould us and make us, So that we may be made into a flawless piece of work To fulfill His good, pleasing, and perfect will.

SuraH "At-tin" ["The Fig,"] verse 4,) ALLAH said: "We moulded man into a most noble image." 

and ALLAH asks "O man! What evil has enticed you from your gracious Lord, Who created and proportioned you, and moulded your body to His will?" (surat "Al Infitar," )



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Over the years, I’ve come to believe that each of us is addicted to something (or a number of things) in one way or another. This addiction can be positive or negative; it can be dangerous or completely safe, but it’s an addiction nevertheless.

I define addiction as a compulsive feeling that drives you towards a thing or activity, and which if you stopped yourself in one way or another you start feeling some type of withdrawal symptoms.

When we think of addictions, we normally think of drug addicts, alcohol . Yet there are other forms of addiction which are seemingly ‘harmless’ e.g. addiction to facebook/twitter/Blackberry, addicton to work, addiction to sleep..etc.

Can You Flip Addiction on its Head?

My question today is: since addiction is such a powerful force that sometimes is hard to resist, can we harness this propensity to be addicted & get ourselves addicted to positive things?

Can we get addicted to Salah for example? Or to the Quran? Or to giving Charity? or performing Hajj/Umrah? Or even get addicted to doing something positive in the community or to what we passionately believe in?

Why Are You Addicted?

In order to understand how we can get addicted to such positive activities, we need to understand why we get addicted in the first place:

There are two triggers for addiction:

1) It drives us towards pleasure.

AND/OR

2) It drives away pain and makes us forget our life problems. A lot of the powerful addiction substances have both triggers in them, e.g. alcohol and drugs give pleasure to their users AND numbs their reality helping them forget their problems.



Get Addicted to Positive Habits!

So with that in mind, we can now better answer the question posed above; how can we get addicted to powerful positive habits?

1. We need to derive a great sense of pleasure from them; let’s take reading Quran for example.

If you want to get ‘addicted’ to reading Quran and by addicted, I mean it becomes the habit you love to do all the time and in fact you might even get withdrawal symptoms if you don’t read it for a few days, then you need to understand the Quran, appreciate the Quran, love the Quran and really enjoy reciting it in order to derive immense pleasure from such habit.

Uthman Bin Affan (May ALLAH be pleased with him) once said: ”If our hearts were pure, we would never be tired from reading the Quran.”

2. The positive habit needs to be able to drive away pain; let’s take another example, Salah.

If whenever you’re faced with affliction or trial or even a little bit of stress, you turn to Salah, won’t you be addicted to Salah and love Salah?

Prophet Muhammad (Peace be upon him) used to say ”O Bilal, give us comfort with it (i.e. Salah)”.

Not only will your problems wither away with the power of a sincere salah, but you’ll gain reward from Allah and feel much better afterwards.

3. Addicton doesn’t come overnight, it builds over time

This is an important point, if you notice any ‘addiction’ you have, e.g. constantly checking Facebook or e-mails, this didn’t suddenly happen – you gradually developed an addiction to it and then can’t stop yourself (from checking facebook/e-mails, etc.).

So keep in mind that any positive addiction you want to develop needs time, you simply need to constantly build that habit into your life and soon enough it’ll become a positive addiction that you’ll enjoy, insha’Allah.

I want you today to take a good look at your life and ask yourself what are you really addicted to?

What are the things that you can’t stop doing, or feel depressed/down/frustrated if you stop yourself from doing? If these are good/positive addictions, that’s great, keep them and harness them. If these are bad/negative addictions, try to replace them with new positive ones and work your way to gradually unwind/withdraw from the negative addiction until it disappears from your life, insha’
ALLAH —


Monday, 28 November 2011

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A short moral story
Who Is Your Best Friend?
I am reminded of an inspirational story of a young man who had three friends. A judge ordered this young man to appear in court with a witness to testify on his behalf that he had good character. This seemed like a daunting task for the young man when all human decency seemed to have broken down. However he met his first friend whom he asked to testify that he had good character. The first friend said "You are good," but grumbled that he could not go to the court with him.

The second friend was uncertain about helping the young man. He said "I will vouch for your good character, and I will go to the court with you; but I will stop at the doors of the court for I cannot enter."

The third friend said "Don't worry I will go with you. I will enter the court and will testify that you have good moral character, I will stay with you until the problem is solved. I will be with you."

Who do you think is the best friend?

This is what will happen when all of us die. The first friend is like our wealth. Our wealth basically stays behind when we die.

The second friend is much our family and loved ones. Our family and loved ones no matter how much they care about us, when the time comes they will arrange for our funeral but our loved ones will not enter our graves with or for us.

The third friend is your deeds. Everything else will remain behind, your wealth and your family and loved ones but your deeds will go with you. Our deeds are both good and bad. Our deeds are all that will remain with us, so we must be sure that they, inshallah are good deeds.

What really strikes me is that each one of us has an opportunity to increase our good deeds every day. The essential flow that we all have is old habits that die hard. But hopefully, we can take small steps , to rid ourselves of these bad habits so Inshallah we all can enter Paradise.



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Tuesday, 22 November 2011


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NicE words by a husband who Truely Loves a Wife;

"My one Hand is enough to FighT againsT the worLD 
IF 
U Hold the other OnE...

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::::::::::true inspiring story::::::::::



True strory told by Shaykh "Abdul Mohsen al Ahmad", it happened in Abha (the capital of Asir province in Saudi Arabia)
"After performing Salat Al Maghrib, she put her make-up, wore her beautiful white dress preparing herself for her wedding party, Then she heard the Adhan of ‘Ishaa and she realized that she broke her Wudu
she told her mother : “mother, I have to go to make wudu and pray ‘Ishaa”
He...r mother was shocked : “Are you crazy?!! Guests are waiting for you, to see u! what about your make –up? It will be all washed away by water!!” then she added
” I am your mother and I order you not to perform salah now! wallahi if you make wudu now, I will be angry at you”
Her daughter replied :”wallahi I won’t go out from here till I perform my salah! Mother you must know that "There is no obedience to any creature in disobedience to the Creator."!!
Her mother said:”what would our guests say about you when you'll show up in ur wedding party without make-up?! You won’t be beautiful in their eyes! and They will make fun of you!”
The daughter asked with a smile :” Are you worried because I won’t be beautiful in the eyes of creations? What about my Creator?! I am worried because, if I miss my salah, I won’t be beautiful in His eyes”
She started to make wudu, and all her make-up was washed away, but she didn’t care
Then she began her salah and at the moment she bowed down to make sujud, she didn’t realize that it will be her last one!
Yes! She died while in sujud! What a great ending for a Muslimah who insisted on obeying her Lord! Many people who heard her story were so touched!!
She put Him and His obedience first in her priorities, so He granted her the best ending that any Muslim would have!
She wanted to be closer to Him, so He took her soul in the place where Muslim are the closest to Him! SubhanaAllah!
She didn’t care if she would be beautiful in the eyes of creatures so she was beautiful in the eyes of Her Creator!

O Muslim sister, imagine if you are in her place! What will you do? What will you choose : pleasing creations or your Creator?
O dear sister! Do you guarantee that you will live for the next minutes? Hours? Months?!!
No one knows when their hour will come? Or when will they meet angels of death? So are you ready for that moment?
O non hijabi sister! What do you choose : Pleasing yourself by non wearing Hijab or your Lord?
Are you ready to meet Him without Hijab?
And what about you, sister who are “in relationship” or “open relationship”, are you ready to meet your Lord today? Tomorrow?! What do you choose pleasures of this Dunya or pleasures of akhirah?!

May ALLAH guide us all to what pleases Him and grant everyone who is reading these lines good ending, Ameen .



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Friday, 18 November 2011


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The other day while watching a network news program, I saw a Muslim woman in Kosova with her six-month-old infant, who was covered in sores and suffered from a malady of illnesses, all because it had not had a bath since its birth.

The mother explained that because of the heavy fighting, she and her family had been on the move constantly, and that luxurious such as decent food and clean water were not available to them. As the mother of a six-month-old infant myself, this struck to the very hart of me. Bath time for my son and I, is a very special time filled with play and laughter. It's a ritual we share everyday, and the fact that I would have clean water with which to bathe him, was something, until then, every time I bath my son, I try to remember to thank Allah, subhanahu wa ta'ala (How far from imperfection is He and He is the Most High), for His Mercy to me. It also reminds me to be thankful for all the other "little things," that I take for granted everyday.

From the very beginning of Man's creation, the issue of gratefulness and thankfulness to ALLAH has been debated. After refusing to bow to Aadam (Adam), Iblees (Satan) said,

"Then I will certainly come to them from before them and from behind them, and from the right-hand side and from the left-hand side, and Thou (ALLAH) shall not find most of them thankful." [Qur'an 7:17]

This statement from the worst of liars has proven to be true, not only among the disbelievers, but also among the Muslims. Unfortunately, we Muslims have fallen into the trap of Iblees, and have gotten so caught up in our comings and goings, that we very rarely take the time to reflect on the Favors of ALLAH, and to thank Him with the thanks that is due Him. We are so busy conducting our daily lives that we forget who is really in-charge, and from where our sustenance comes. This is not the way, for Allah says,

"Therefore remember Me, I will remember you, And be thankful to Me, and do not be ungrateful to Me." [Qur'an 2:152]

The problem that most of us face is what I call the, "If I only…." Syndrome. If I only had a better wife, I would be grateful. If I only had sons instead of daughters, I would be grateful. If I only had a bigger house, a better car, more money, a better job, and the list goes on and on. We are constantly focused on the things we don't have, instead of being grateful to ALLAH for the things we do have.

This is a very serious illness, for which the Prophet, sallallahu 'alayhi wa sallam (May ALLAH's peace and blessing be upon him), has given the cure. He, sallallahu 'alayhi wa sallam, admonished us, in terms of worldly things to always look to those beneath us, for this will keep us thankful. ALLAH says about the Prophet, sallallahu 'alayhi wa sallam, that in him we have the best of examples. In terms of showing us how to be thankful to ALLAH, subhanahu wa ta'ala, he is as ALLAH says. It is narrated by al-Mughira that the Prophet, sallallahu 'alayhi wa sallam, used to stand (in the salaah (trans - prayer) or performs salaah until both his feet or legs swelled. He was asked why (he offered such an unbearable salaah) he said, "Should I not be a thankful slave?" [Bukhari]

As the Prophet, sallallahu 'alayhi wa sallam, advised us, the best way to stay thankful to ALLAH is to count His Favors in our lives everyday. For ALLAH says,

"And He gives you all that you ask for. But if you count the favors of ALLAH, never will you be able to number them. Verily, man is given up to injustice and ingratitude." [Qur'an 14:34]

This statement of ALLAH is so true, yet we put so little value on it, and do not take heed.

The very fact that we got up this morning, that we can offer the salaah that we had breakfast, that we have clothes to wear, water to bathe ourselves, that we have homes to shelter us from the elements, that we have our health, our families, etc., etc., etc., are all favors from ALLAH, subhanahu wa ta'aala. We should take non of it for granted, or become arrogant enough to believe that we attained any of it because of our own efforts alone.

Thankfulness frees the heart from greed, jealousy and envy. When we are thankful to ALLAH, we remain mindful of Him and His continuous Mercy toward us, and this in return humbles us and improves our characters. The very fact that ALLAH has guided us to Islam and the sunnah of His Prophet, sallallahu 'alayhi wa sallam, in itself should be a source of continual praise. ALLAH says,

"Surely We have shown him the way: he may be thankful or unthankful." [Qur'an 76:3]

ALLAH also says that only few of His servants thank Him. Let us then strive to be among these few by keeping our tongues wet with His remembrance and our hearts soft with His praise.


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This is a message every parent & for those to be inshaAllah. Its an important one because your children are watching you and "doing as you DO," not necessarily "doing as you SAY"

When You thought I wasn't Looking



When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you hang my first

painting onthe refrigerator, and I immediately wanted to paint another

one.



When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you feed a stray cat,

and I learned that it was good to be kind to animals.



When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make my favorite

cake and I learned that little things can be the special things

in life.



When you thought I wasn't looking I heard you say a prayer,

and I knew there is a God I could always talk to and I learned to trust

in God.



When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you make a meal and

take it to a friend who was sick, and I learned that we all have to help

take care of each other.



When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you give of your time

and money to help people who had nothing and I learned that those who

have something should give to those who don't.



When you thought I wasn't looking, I felt you kiss me good

night and I felt loved and safe.



When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw you take care of our

house andeveryone in it and I learned we have to take care of what we

are given.



When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw how you handled your

responsibilities, even when you didn't feel good and I learned that I would have to be responsible when I grow up.



When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw tears come from your

eyes and I learned that sometimes things hurt, but that it's all right to

cry.



When you thought I wasn't looking, I saw that you cared and I

wanted to be everything that I could be.



When you thought I wasn't looking, I learned most of life's

lessons thatI need to know to be a good and productive person when I grow

up.



When you thought I wasn't looking, I looked at you and wanted

to say,

"Thanks for all the things I saw when you thought I wasn't

looking."



Each of us, parent or friend, influence the life of a child.

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During the funeral of his mother, Al-Haarith Al-Aklee (ra) weeped. When asked for the reason of his tears he said, “Why should I not cry when one of my doors to Paradise has now close.


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Wednesday, 16 November 2011


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Really heart touching........A Must Read By all...and Please Click Share Button if You loved the story. *This made my eyes wet*
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Every Friday afternoon, after the Jumma prayers, the Imam and his eleven
year old son would go out into their town and hand out *"PATH TO PARADISE"*
and other Islamic literature.

This particular and fortunate Friday afternoon, as the time came for the Imam and his son to go to the streets with their booklets, it was very cold outside, as well as pouring rain.

The boy bundled up in his warmest and driest clothes and said, 'OK, dad, I'm ready!'

His dad asked, 'Ready for what' 'Dad, it's time we go out and distribute these Islamic books.'

Dad responds, 'Son, it's very cold outside and it's pouring rain.'

The boy gives his dad a surprised look, asking, 'But Dad, aren't people still going to hell, even though it's raining?'

Dad answers, 'Son, I am not going out in this weather.'

Despondently, the boy asks, 'Dad, can I go Please'

His father hesitated for a moment then said, 'Son, you can go. Here are the
booklets. Be careful son.'

'Thanks, Dad!'

And with that, he was off and out into the rain. This eleven year old boy walked the streets of the town going door to door and handing everybody he met in the street a pamphlet or a booklet.

After two hours of walking in the rain, he was soaking, bone-chilled wet and
down to his VERY LAST BOOKLET. He stopped on a corner and looked for
someone to hand a booklet to, but the streets were totally deserted.

Then he turned toward the first home he saw and started up the sidewalk to the front door and rang the door bell. He rang the bell, but nobody answered..

He rang it again and again, but still no one answered. He waited but still no answer.

Finally, he turned to leave, but something stopped him.*

Again, he turned to the door and rang the bell and knocked loudly on the door with his fist. He waited, something holding him there on the front porch!

He rang again and this time the door slowly opened.

Standing in the doorway was a very sad-looking elderly lady. She softly asked, 'What can I do for you, son?' With radiant eyes and a smile that lit up her world, this little boy said, 'Ma'am, I'm sorry if I disturbed you, but I just want to tell you that ALLAH REALLY LOVES AND CARES FOR YOU and I came to give you my very last booklet which will tell you all about God, the real purpose of creation, and how to achieve His pleasure.'

With that, he handed her his last booklet and turned to leave.

She called to him as he departed. 'Thank you, son! And God Bless You!'

Next week on Friday afternoon after Jumma prayers, the Imam was giving some
lectures. As he concludes the lectures, he asked, 'Does anybody have questions or want to say anything?'

Slowly, in the back row among the ladies, an elderly lady's voice was heard over the speaker. *

'No one in this gathering knows me. I've never been here before. You see, before last Friday I was not a Muslim, and thought I could be. My husband died few years ago, leaving me totally alone in this world..Last Friday, being a particularly cold and rainy day, i was contemplating suicide as i had no hope left.

So I took a rope and a chair and ascended the stairway into the attic of my home.. I fastened the rope securely to a rafter in the roof then stood on the chair and fastened the other end of the rope around my neck. Standing on that chair, so lonely and broken-hearted I was about to leap off, when suddenly the loud ringing of my doorbell downstairs startled me. I thought, I'll wait a minute, and whoever it is will go away.

I waited and waited, but the ringing doorbell seemed to get louder and more insistent, and then the person ringing also started knocking loudly....

I thought to myself again, 'Who on earth could this be? Nobody ever rings my bell or comes to see me.' I loosened the rope from my neck and started for the front door, all the while the bell rang louder and louder.

When I opened the door and looked I could hardly believe my eyes, for there on my front porch was the most radiant and angelic little boy I had ever seen in my life. His SMILE, oh, I could never describe it to you! The words that came from his mouth caused my heart that had long been dead TO LEAP TO LIFE as he exclaimed with a cherub-like voice, 'Ma'am, I just came to tell you that ALLAH REALLY LOVES AND CARES FOR YOU!'*

Then he gave me this booklet, Path To Paradise that I now hold in my hand.

As the little angel disappeared back out into the cold and rain, I closed my door and read slowly every word of this book. Then I went up to my attic to get my rope and chair. I wouldn't be needing them any more.

You see? I am now a Happy Vicegerent of the One True God. Since the address
of your congregation was stamped on the back of this booklet, I have come
here to personally say THANK YOU to God's little angel who came just in the nick of time and by so doing, spared my soul from an eternity in hell.'

There was not a dry eye in the mosque. The shouts of TAKBIR...ALLAH AKBAR..
rented the air.

Imam-Dad descended from the pulpit to the front row where the little angel
was seated....

He took his son in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably.

Probably no jama'at has had a more glorious moment, and probably this
universe has never seen a father that was more filled with love and honor
for his son... Except for One. This very one...

Blessed are your eyes for reading this message.

Don't let this message die, read it again and pass it to others. Heaven is for His people!

Remember, Allah's message CAN make the difference in the life of someone
close to you.

* Please share this wonderful message *

* Spread His Word, help Him and you'll see His hand in everything you do...

*....This day I've perfected your religion for you, and completed my favor
on you, and chose Islam for you as religion....*[Surat Al-Mā'idah - سورة المائدة C.5 V.3]


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Really heart touching........A Must Read By all...

I was walking around in a Big Bazar store making shopping, when I saw a Cashier talking to a boy couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years old..

The Cashier said, 'I'm sorry, but you don't have enough money to buy this doll. Then the little boy turned to me and asked: ''Uncle, are you sure I don't have enough money?''

I counted his cash and replied: ''You know that you don't have enough money to buy the doll, my dear.'' The little boy was still holding the doll in his hand.

Finally, I walked toward him and I asked him who he wished to give this doll to. 'It's the doll that my sister loved most and wanted so much . I wanted to Gift her.

I have to give the doll to my mommy so that she can give it to my sister when she goes there.' His eyes were so sad while saying this. 'My Sister has gone to be with ALLAH.. Daddy says that Mommy is going to see ALLAH very soon too, so I thought that she could take the doll with her to give it to my sister...''

My heart nearly stopped. The little boy looked up at me and said: 'I told daddy to tell mommy not to go yet. I need her to wait until I come back from the mall.' Then he showed me a very nice photo of him where he was laughing. He then told me 'I want mommy to take my picture with her so my sister won't forget me.' 'I love my mommy and I wish she doesn't have to leave me, but daddy says that she has to go to be with my little sister.' Then he looked again at the doll with sad eyes, very quietly..

I quickly reached for my wallet and said to the boy. 'Suppose we check again, just in case you do have enough money for the doll?''

'OK' he said, 'I hope I do have enough.' I added some of my money to his with out him seeing and we started to count it. There was enough for the doll and even some spare money.

The little boy said: 'Alhamdulillah ya ALLAH for giving me enough money!'

Then he looked at me and added, 'I asked last night before I went to sleep forALLAH to make sure I had enough money to buy this doll, so that mommy could give It to my sister. He heard me!'' 'I also wanted to have enough money to buy a white rose for my mommy, but I didn't dare to ask Allah for too much. But He gave me enough to buy the doll and a white rose Alhamdulillah. My mommy loves white roses.'

I finished my shopping in a totally different state from when I started. I couldn't get the little boy out of my mind. Then I remembered a local news paper article two days ago, which mentioned a drunk man in a truck, who hit a car occupied by a young woman and a little girl. The little girl died right away, and the mother was left in a critical state. The family had to decide whether to pull the plug on the life-sustaining machine, because the young woman would not be able to recover from the coma. Was this the family of the little boy?

Two days after this encounter with the little boy, I read in the news paper that the young woman had passed away.. I couldn't stop myself as I bought a bunch of white roses and I went to the funeral place where the body of the young woman was kept for people to see and make last wishes before her burial. She was there, on her dead body, saw a beautiful white rose with the photo of the little boy and the doll placed over her chest. I left the place, teary-eyed, feeling that my life had been changed for ever...

The love that the little boy had for his mother and his sister is still, to this day, hard to imagine. And in a fraction of a second, a drunk driver had taken all this away from him.

Please DO NOT DRINK, PLEASE BE AWAY FROM WHAT ALLAH FORBADE YOU.

The value of a man or woman resides in what he or she gives, not in what 
they are capable of receiving.

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Share THIS IF U LOVE YOUR MOM...

There is no velvet so soft as a mother's lap,

No rose as lovely as her smile,

No path no flowery as that imprinted with her footsteps..

Alhamdulillah ♥ u MoM


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Oh ALLAH, help orphans and poor wherever they are. Give us the means and ability to do whatever we can for them.


https://www.facebook.com/Musab.ibn.umayer?sk=wall