THE NECKLACE

Ibn Rajab and others gave an account of a worshipper who ran out of resources while he was in Makkah. He became extremely hungry and was about to die from lack of nourishment.

One day, as he was wandering in the precincts of Makkah, he found an expensive necklace. He put it into his sleeves and headed for the Masjid. On his way he came across a man announcing that he had lost a necklace. The poor man later said, " I asked him to describe it to me, and he did so, perfectly, leaving no room for doubt. I gave him the necklace without taking reward from him. I said,: " O Allah, I have given it for You, so compensate me with what is better." He went to the ocean and began a journey in a small boat. Only a brief period of time passed before a storm came with heavy winds crashing into the boat. The boat smashed into pieces and the man was forced to cling to a piece of wood. The winds were violent, propelling him to the left and to the right.

Finally, he was washed ashore onto an island. He found there a Masjid filled with people who were praying, so he joined them. He found papers with parts of the Qur'an written on them and he began to recite from them. The people of the island asked him, "Do you read Qur'an?" He answered in the affirmative. They said, " Teach our children Qur'an." So he began to teach them and he took a salary for his services. One day, they saw him writing and they asked, " Will you teach our children to write?" Again he answered in the affirmative and began teaching them for a salary.

A short time later, they said to him, " There is an orphaned girl with us whose father was a good man. Will you marry her?" He agreed to the marriage and later related, " I married her and found that she was wearing the exact same necklace. She said that her father lost it in Makkah and a man found it and returned to him. She said that her father would always supplicate while prostrating, for her daughter to become blessed with a husband similiar to the honest man. I then informed her that I was that man."

Source: Don't be Sad - Shaykh Aaidh ibn Abdullah Al-Qarni
Courtesy: www.everymuslim.com

THE TEAR DIDN'T STOP

"The Tears Didn't Stop...

I thought about Yawm ul Qiyaamah,

and the tears began to fall,

I thought about the terrible Reckoning,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about the rape of the Ummah,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about how we had failed to fulfil the obligations central to this Deen of Allah,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about how we slept at night, while they were butchered,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about the Mujahid, tortured to death for attempting to escape Kufr captivity,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about the Hundreds and thousands of Mujahideen in torturous captivity,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about those of my sincere Brothers, who had to stay behind patiently,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about limbless orphans, the worst victims of war,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about the baby girl who had been dehumanised while we watched,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about young Mujahid boys competing to be allowed into training camps,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about how we cried tears while they fought till the last drop of blood,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about how I would manage on the bridge of Siraat on Qiyaamah,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about wanting my Sons to be born Soldiers Of Allah,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about the Mujahideen who waited patiently for Firdous,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about those who were Shaheed in merely attempting to reach the battlefield,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about what atrocities it would take to get my Brothers to Jihad,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about how our Fathers and Brothers of the Ummah had failed to protect us,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about the man, who had answered the lone cry of one girl in Afghanistaan,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about him who smiled upon being martyred with his index finger raised,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about Muslims engaging in vain rhetoric about the need for Jihad,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about those who had never had the dust of the battlefield enter their nostrils,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about what excuses such 'Brothers' would shamelessly offer on Qiyaamah,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about my desire to see the beautiful and Noble face of the beloved Rasoolallah (SAW),

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I thought about Jahannam and burning fires of hell we were to be fuel for,

And yet the tears didn't stop.

I turned to my Creator in Forgiveness, and in a state of helplessness and utter dependency,

I Cried and I Cried and I Cried...

"Allahumma arZuqni Shuhaadah

Allahumma arZuqni Shuhaadah

Allahumma arZuqni Shuhaadah"

And yet the tears didn't stop...

I begged Allah to bestow his Mercy on Me, and My Brothers, and He Mercifully answered My prayers.

He Granted me Sleep.

But then I awoke and the tears within never did stop."




*source ~ fwded email from a friend