I WAS once asked by a friend how it is that I have mothers in different countries and sisters all over the world. The weird part is that they don't know each other and they only have one thing in common: me.

"Explain to me," she told me one day.

So I began explaining by quoting an incident that happened to me when I was visiting another country just a few months back.

"As Salamu alaykum, dear..." greeted the elderly lady sitting next to me.

"Wa alaykum salam, aunty…" I answered with a smile

"You are new here?" she asked

"Yes, I am just visiting some friends and doing a book tour at the same time."

Within an hour, we were already talking and giggling together as if we have known each other for years. She hugged me, patted my head, held my hands, invited me into her home, offered me a place to stay and insisted that I at least have dinner with her family, making me feel accepted and warm all over.

I was overwhelmed by her kindness and she is not alone and unique in that sense.

Throughout my trip, I was "fought over" by my sisters-in-Islam whom I just met. Our initial embraces and hugs would be our ice-breaking gestures. These loving hugs made me feel secure and safe with them.

The kind gestures do not just stop there. I received so many invitations for lunch, dinner, supper and even to sleep over at their homes. All these have made my eyes water too many times and made me realize the wisdom of the teachings of Prophet Muhammad in shaping the Muslim community.

The love and affection I received from my sisters even if they barely knew me could be explained easily,

Prophet Muhammad said,

On the Day of Judgment, God will announce, 'Where are those who love each other for the sake of My pleasure? This day I am going to shelter them in the shade provided by Me. Today there is no shade except My shade." (Muslim)

Isn't that wonderful?

Just by loving each other we are entitled to His shade on the Day of Judgment.

I can't help but think of how merciful God is. He didn't say that we should pray the whole night or fast the whole year. Instead, He wants us to continue loving each other, taking care of one another to earn His shelter on the day when humans are gathered from Prophet Adam to the last man born, when the sun will be just above our heads, and when there is nothing that can be used to cover and protect us from the heat torment except for His shade.

Thinking about it made me realize how beautiful this deal is for Muslims., because Muslims who love each other for the sake of God would earn at least two rewards. The immediate one is His pleasure and the second reward would be their 'booking for a spot' to be under His shade in the Day of Judgment.

This is among the values that Prophet Muhammad has instilled in Muslim hearts. He has removed the barriers of race, ethnicity, and prejudice that would usually become a hindrance when people from different races, ethnicities or countries meet. He put in their hearts love and care for others even before they know them.

I reflected on what Martin Luther King Jr. said, "We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools."

Islam has long taught its followers the concept of love between humans, brotherhood, and sisterhood from the very beginning.

I remembered a verse from the Quran that says,

{The Believers are but a single brotherhood: so make peace and reconciliation between your two (contending) brothers; and fear God, that ye may receive Mercy}.(Al-Hujarat 49:10)

God has clearly stated that all Muslims are brothers, one single brotherhood. Muslims, regardless where they are from, are considered one. They belong to the same community: the Muslim community.

That was why I was accepted very quickly into the lives of the sisters whom I just met. We all knew that we are one: one family, one unit.

Naturally, as one family, Muslims are asked to be kind and compassionate towards one another. Prophet Muhammad used the parable of a human body to explain what he meant by brotherhood in Islam.

This is how Prophet Muhammad taught Muslims to treat each other,

"The Muslims in their mutual love, kindness and compassion are like the human body; when one of its parts is in agony the entire body feels the pain, both in sleeplessness and fever." (Al-Bukhari)

Let us see why Prophet Muhammad used the human body to explain the concept of brotherhood to us.

When we have a toothache, with it comes a headache too. This is because the nerves from our teeth are connected to the brain, thus causing the headache.

And with headache, we really need to rest. So, would we still be able to be chatting, giggling, or continuing our daily chores when we have a toothache or the whole body feels the discomfort and needs to rest?

What will happen if, say, we have diarrhea? The affected body organ is only the colon, but, as we all know, if we have diarrhea, all that we would want to do is just rest as the whole body is in discomfort.

For the ladies, despite the monthly menstrual pain that comes from one organ, this pain causes backache, sore muscles and cramps all over the body.

So, yes, when one part of the human body is in pain, the whole body feels pain too.

That is the love that all Muslims must have for each other. When we see another Muslim in difficulty, pain must creep into our hearts too. If we see the tears of another Muslim, our hearts should be crying too. The joy felt by our brothers should be our personal joy too.

We are all one part of one body.

Zabrina Abu Bakar is a life storyteller and author of a motivational book entitled Life is An Open Secret, based in Malaysia. She has a degree in accountancy and an MBA, and is completing her doctorate in business administration. She maintains an active blog at http://wisdomthruwords.blogspot.com.

HOW often do you thank Allah (blessed and exalted is He) for the most mundane things?  I even thank Him for toilet paper.  Raised as a hillbilly, I used corncobs till I was nearly grown.  I am also delighted to have indoor plumbing.  I think it’s nice to be able to go to the bathroom without having to cross the cornfield –especially in three feet of snow.

Each day of mine is either hilarious or tragic.  Sometimes it’s hilariously tragic or tragically hilarious.  Today was no different.

With three or four cats sleeping on top of me or crammed so tightly against me that I cannot even roll over, it’s always a struggle for me to get out of bed in the morning.  Once I wrestle my way out from under the covers, Munchkin latches onto my nightgown with her paws and her teeth.  She tries her best to keep me in bed so we can all snuggle.

I finally made it up the hall, and then all the cats were begging for fish food.  The animals here are a bit strange, I suppose.  The cats love the fish’s food.  The dog likes the cats’ food.  The raccoons and possums eat the dog’s food, and the squirrels eat the chickens’ food.  The chickens like macaroni and cheese, and the ducks’ favorite food is fried chicken.

I had to feed the cats before they would let me feed the fish.  The fish struggled to get some pieces sucked into his mouth.  He has been having a hard time eating since a few weeks ago after he got a flake of food stuck sideways in his throat.  That was the first time I ever saw a fish do the shimmy-shimmy shakes!

I grabbed a little grub myself as I loaded a box of tools to take to my sister’s house to do some repairs, including installing new floors for her.  I finally got everything together and put the box into the back seat of a car so small that the back seat is almost in the same place as the front seat.  I got into the car and pulled the seatbelt from above and behind me.  I felt resistance, so I just yanked on it till it was free.  I buckled it, and then the belt lay limp across my lap.  I picked it up and saw that it was ripped apart.  I looked behind me and saw my hacksaw sticking up out of the box.  It was grinning at me with pieces of seatbelt stuck in its teeth.  Some people would have been upset, but not me.  I was thankful.  I have a car –with a seatbelt.  I have a hacksaw.  And, most importantly, I have an awl and thread with which to repair the seatbelt.  I’m grateful for all those things.

By the time I neared my sister’s house, my breakfast of Slim-Fast and M & M’s was wearing thin.  I stopped at a greasy food joint for a bowl of watered-down chili.  Another customer began a conversation with me as she waited for her grease-burger.  She was complaining about the bitter wind and clouds.

“I thought it was going to be a nice day,” she said.

“It is a nice day,” I insisted.  “We aren’t having a tsunami or a flood or an earthquake or a tornado.  With all the crazy weather around the world, I’m just thankful to wake up and find that my bed is still in my house and that my house is still not in the creek.”

I finally got to work on my sister’s floor.  My sister Toy reminded me, “When you get my age, you won’t feel like crawling around on the floor and up ladders and stuff like that.”  I’m already older than she was when she first started telling me that.

I worked for several hours and then stretched my aching neck and shoulders.  “Ohhhh, puss and spit,” I softly moaned.

Toy was in her bedroom while I was in the kitchen.  Toy, who couldn’t hear an avalanche falling on a landmine, said, “Linda, you sound tired.”

I yelled back to her, “How can you hear me moaning when you can’t hear a word I say when I’m talking straight at you?”

She said, “What?”

I muttered, “Huh?  What did you say?  Is somebody talking?  What?  Are you saying something?”

Toy came out of her bedroom.  “Are you talking to me?”

I said, “No, I’m just making fun of you.”

She said, “What?”

I came to a stopping point and loaded everything back into the car.  I got home just in time to see the crazy raccoons fighting over the last piece of cherry pie somebody had left me.  I chased away the raccoons and then stared longingly at the miserable remains of what I could only imagine to have been a scrumptious pie.  I went into the house and stared out the window at what was left of the pie.  That was the first time in my life that somebody, besides Mama, had ever baked me a cherry pie, and I missed it!  Smoke was coming out of my ears.  Suddenly a raccoon ran out of the woods, snatched up the remnant of pie –pan and all— and dashed back into the woods.

I am still trying to be thankful about that cherry pie.  Right now, only the raccoons are thankful.  They’re grinning with pieces of cherries stuck in their teeth.  I suppose I should just be thankful that somebody loved me enough to bake me a cherry pie, but I wanted to have my pie and eat it too.

Of course, I didn’t need a cherry pie; I just wanted it.  Prophet Muhammed (peace and blessings upon him) told a funny story about Job (peace upon him) and how he wanted all the little blessings he could get.  “When Prophet Job was taking a bath, golden locusts started falling on him.  Job collected them [to eat] and wrapped them in his clothes [that he had laid aside for his bath].  The Lord asked Job, ‘O Job, haven’t I given you enough stuff that you don’t need locusts?’  Job answered, “Yes, by Your power!  Still I cannot forego any of Your blessings’” (Bukhari, Book 5, Hadith 277).

By the way, my brother Ron promised to bake me another cherry pie.  I told him what had happened to the pie he had left me on the picnic table, and he said, “Well, raccoons gotta eat too.”  But, Ron, I feed them plenty of dog food!

AS I was growing up, I was always fascinated by Uncle Ali's beard. It wasn't a very long beard. It wasn't bushy or bristly like an old hair brush. It didn't stick out like the quills of a porcupine. Uncle Ali was a strong, short man with a round face and red, curly hair. His beard was also curly, and it glowed a lustrous red. The beard grew around his face like coiling plants. I always expected to see wildflowers peeping from between the hairs.

What always amazed me about this beard of Uncle Ali's was what he used to say when I was very young. He told me, “A man's beard is a blessing. It is his veil of modesty. It is said that between every hair of a man's beard there is an angel.” I don't remember when he first told me this. It was probably when l was grabbing his beard to see what it was made of and why it tickled me when he kissed my cheeks. After that, I always looked for the angels. I ran my fingers through the soft, curly hairs and peered into his beard. I gazed around hoping to catch sight of the angels or even just a little glimmer from their wings. I never saw the angels in my uncle's beard, but I wasn’t disappointed. Uncle Ali was always cheerful and full of light and love, so I felt angels all around him even if I couldn’t see them.

Uncle Ali always brought my family bags of vegetables from his garden. He grew them behind his house. His garden was as lush and luxurious as his beard. He called his garden “a little bit of Paradise,” a tiny image of the real Garden in the next world. He brought us squashes and tomatoes. From his orchard, he brought us peaches from his peach trees and olives from his olive trees. He brought bunches of flowers for my mother and sisters. He always brought me smooth, velvety stones he found in his garden. He told me that the stones were precious jewels from the storehouse of Allah's treasures. I kept them all on the windowsill in my bedroom. Sometimes I would take one of the smoothest stones to bed with me. I would hold it in the palm of my hand and rub it until I fell asleep.

One day Uncle Ali said he had to go away to fight in a war. He packed a few things in a shoulder bag. Before he set out, he hugged us all and waved goodbye. He joined other Muslim comrades from our village. He would have to go on foot for many miles. He would hike the tall mountains and cross the long valleys to get to the war. We weren't sure what to think about Uncle Ali’s going. My father said that the war may become much worse. If so, he would have to leave his shop in my mother's hands and go to fight the war also.

The days were not the same without Uncle Ali. They were dull and boring. It seemed that every new day was more or less like the last. It wasn't because there weren't things to do. I had chores as much as before. I still played with the other boys in the gullies behind the houses. Our soccer matches went on as usual. I had to do fetching and carrying, and there was the occasional long trek with the donkey to get the milk jugs from the distant farm. But without Uncle Ali, things didn't get explained the same way. His twinkling eyes and red beard didn't sparkle and wag and make things more wonderful and more wondrous than they seemed. Uncle Ali always had a story to tell, or an explanation, or a hadith of the Prophet Muhammad, peace and blessings of Allah be upon him. These made things radiate with a certain light. Uncle Ali also radiated, and his smile always followed some piece of wisdom he would impart.

I had an older brother and two sisters that Uncle Ali loved as well. I watched them grow up as time slipped by. My sisters became more secretive and removed from us boys. My brother got a deeper voice, and he got taller. Even the first few hairs of his own beard began to appear. Amazingly they were a kind of red color, wispy and orangey-blond, almost feathery. I could imagine his face like Uncle Ali's, ringed around with a bright red beard. I began rubbing my own chin from time to time, hoping I'd feel the first few ticklish hairs there. But no such luck! Allah hadn't seen fit to give me a beard yet, even though I wished for one as soon as possible!

Many months went by, two, three, and finally eight. We would get letters from time to time from Uncle Ali. They were always very sweet and full of hope for victory. H always said he thought of us often and would like to come home soon to see us.

“I know you are growing up nice and tall,” he wrote to me once, “and maybe you will begin to have a beard of your own soon, and all the angels that go with it!”

When we didn't hear a word from him for three months, my mother (his sister) began to worry. We could hear her weeping at night. We heard her talking with my father about whether he was alive or dead. Then one day we received a small letter in a very battered envelope. The letter was very short, and Uncle Ali greeted us in the Name of Allah and His Prophet, peace be upon him. When I took the letter to read it, a small, curly hair fell out onto the palm of my hand. It was bright red. It shone in the palm of my hand like a fleck of sunlight. It was a sad hair, a single hair, and in my mind I could see Uncle Ali's laughing face. I imagined him scratching that beard of his with one hand while gesturing with the other. And then I thought of the angels, all the angels in his beard, the ones I couldn't see no matter how hard I tried. I wondered if the angel had come with the hair, or whether it stayed back with the other angels that always went with him wherever he went.

[Copyright by Daniel Abdal-Hayy Moore; first published by Young Muslim magazine (Volume 2, Issue 2). Abdal-Hayy is an artist and poet featured on www.danielmoorepoetry.com. His vast array of works includes a book for young readers, Abdullah Jones and the Disappearing-Dust Caper.]

ONE night Khalif Haaroon Ar-Rashid of Baghdad was quite restless, and said to his vizier (Secretary or Minister), Jaafar Ibn Yahya al-Barmaki:

"I cannot sleep this night. I feel depressed, and do not know what to do."

His servant Masrur, who happened to be standing nearby, burst out laughing at these words, and the Khalif asked:

"What are you laughing for? Do you mock at me or are you just being frivolous?"

Masrur replied: "I take an oath by your relationship to the Leader of the Prophets Sallallahu Alaihi Wasallam that I have done this unintentionally. It was just that last night I was outside the castle walking towards the bank of the river Tigris, when I saw many people gathered around a man who was making them laugh. I remembered some of his words which caused me to laugh. His name is Ibnul Maghaazali. I beg your pardon, O Commander of the Faithful!"

Haaroon Ar-Rashid said: "Bring him to me immediately. "

Accordingly Masrur went out to find Ibnul Maghaazali. When he had found him Masroor said to him: "The Commander of the Faithful wants you."

Ibnul Maghaazali replied: "To hear is to obey! "

Masrur continued: "But on the condition that if he presents you with a gift, a quarter of it will belong to you, and the rest to me."

Ibnul Maghaazali replied: "No, half will be mine and half yours." But Masroor would not agree.

Ibnul Maghaazali again proposed : “I will keep a third of it and you can have the remaining two-thirds."

They finally agreed to this after a great deal of haggling.

When he was brought he greeted in an impeccable manner and introduced himself very well. Haaroon Ar-Rashid said to him: "If you make me laugh I shall give you five hundred dinars (local currency of the time), but if you fail to make me laugh I shall give you three blows with this sock."

Now Ibnul Maghaazali said to himself: "What are the odds of me getting three strokes with the sock?" (He thought that the sock was empty). Accordingly he began to joke and to play tricks which would have made even caused a rock to laugh. But not Haaroon Ar-Rasheed, who did not even smile.

Ibnul Maghaazali was first astonished, then grieved and at last frightened.

Haaroon Ar-Rasheed said to him: "Now you have deserved the blows." He then took up the sock and twisted it. In the sock there were four stones, each of which weighed two ratals (a unit of measurement). When he struck Ibnul Maghaazali once, the latter yelled out in pain.

He remembered the condition Masrur had imposed upon him and exclaimed: "Pardon, O Commander of the Faithful, listen to only two more words of mine."

Haaroon Ar-Rasheed replied: "Say as you wish.'"

The man continued: "Masrur and myself have an agreement. I have agreed to let Masrur have two-thirds of the reward I might receive, and to keep one-third for myself. To this he had agreed only after much bargaining. The Commander of the Faithful has decided that the reward would consist of three blows, of which my share would be one, and Masrur's two. I have received mine, and now it is his turn."

Haaroon Ar-Rasheed laughed, called for Masrur and struck him. Masrur groaned from pain, and said: "I give him the remainder as a gift!"

The Khalif laughed and ordered them to be given one thousand dinars. Each received five hundred, and Ibnul Maghaazali went away grateful.' (Al-Mustatraf Vol. 1, p 473)

Based on a Sunnah told by Abu Dawud

Abbad ibn Shurahbil was a very poor man who lived during the time of Prophet Muhammed (peace and blessings upon him). One day Abbad was walking under the hot sun. He saw a lovely garden of date palm trees. The shade looked cool, so Abbad walked into the garden and stood under one of the trees. There were ripe, moist dates hanging from the tree. Abbad shook the tree, and some of the dates fell. He ate those dates, and then he shook the tree again. More dates fell, and Abbad began putting them into his pocket.

The owner of the garden was coming. He was carrying a basket for getting the dates. The owner saw Abbad. The owner dropped his basket and ran into the garden. He grabbed Abbad and hit him. He knocked Abbad to the ground and kicked him in the stomach. “You stupid thief!” the owner said. “I’ll teach you a lesson!” The owner kicked Abbad in the face. Finally the owner jerked Abbad up from the ground and dragged him out of the garden. The owner shoved Abbad, and Abbad fell down onto the hot, dusty ground.

Abbad’s mouth was bleeding, and his stomach hurt. He lay in the dirt for awhile. When he felt a little better, he got up. Abbad walked to the Prophet’s house and told him what had happened. Prophet Muhammed (peace upon him) felt sad when he heard the story.

Prophet Muhammed (peace upon him) asked one of his friends to go get the owner of the garden. When the Prophet (peace upon him) talked to the owner, he said, “Don’t you know that Abbad never went to school? He does not know any better. He was hungry, and you should have fed him.”

The owner of the garden was sorry for what he did. He wanted to help Abbad. He gave Abbad a basket full of dates and two sacks of wheat.

Prophet Muhammed (peace upon him) taught his followers what to do when someone steals. Sometimes a person steals because he or she is mean and lazy. Such a person wants nice things but does not want to work to get them. He or she steals from people who worked very hard to earn a living. Sometimes a thief beats people or even kills them to get their stuff. Such a thief must be stopped. If the thief promises to do better and to stop stealing, he or she is given another chance. If the thief keeps hurting people, his or her hands must be taken away to stop him or her from hurting anybody else.

Prophet Muhammed (peace upon him) did not want to punish people who took things just because they were poor and hungry. Abbad stole dates because he was hungry, and he was not smart enough to get a job. The Prophet (peace upon him) wanted to help such people learn skills and get jobs so that they would not have to steal. If they were not smart enough to learn and to work or could not get jobs, then the Prophet (peace upon him) wanted Muslims to help them. We should share what we have so that nobody will have to do something wrong to get whatever is needed. If a poor person has to steal food, it is our fault. We are supposed to help each other.

THIS conversion story is based on a hadeeth recorded by Bukhari (Book 56, Hadeeth 725).  The story was told by Abu Jamra, who heard it from Ibn Abbas.

Abu Dhar belonged to the tribe of Ghifar.  The Ghifars heard that a man in Meccah was claiming to be a prophet.  Abu Dhar wanted to know about the Prophet, but he was too shy to go see him.  He told his brother, “Go to Meccah for me and meet that man claiming to be a prophet.  When you come back, tell me all about him.”

Abu Dhar’s brother packed some food and began the long walk to Meccah.

Abu Dhar was excited when he saw his brother finally returning.  “What did you learn?” Abu Dhar asked.

The brother said, “With respect to Allah, I found a man who endorsed goodness and prohibited evil.”

“That’s it?” Abu Dhar said.  “You were gone all that time, and that’s all you can tell me?”  Abu Dhar was annoyed.  “I guess I will just have to go find out things for myself.”

Abu Dhar filled a leather pouch with water, and he wrapped some dates and bread.  He got a walking stick and started walking across the hot, dry sand.

By the time Abu Dhar got to Meccah, his water was gone.  He filled his water-skin with water from the well of Zamzam.  He then went to the mosque, but he was too shy to ask anybody about the Prophet (peace and blessings upon him).

Ali, the son-in-law of Muhammed, saw Abu Dhar.  “Hello, stranger,” Ali said.  “Come to my house, and I will share my food.”  Ali did not ask Abu Dhar why he had come to Meccah, and Abu Dhar was too shy to tell him.

The next day, Abu Dhar again went to the mosque.  He hoped that someone would just start talking about the Prophet (peace and blessings upon him).  He did not want to have to ask anyone anything.

Again, Ali saw Abu Dhar in the mosque.  Ali asked him, “Haven’t you found a place to stay yet?”

Abu Dhar just said, “No.”  He was too bashful to try to explain anything.

Finally, Ali asked him, “Why have you come to Meccah?”

Abu Dhar said, “I’ll tell you if you won’t tell anybody else.”

“Okay,” said Ali, “I’ll keep my mouth shut.”

“My tribe the Ghifar has heard about a man calling himself a prophet.  My brother came to talk to him, but my brother didn’t tell me much.  I wanted to meet the man for myself,” Abu Dhar explained.

“Good for you!” said Ali (may Allah be pleased with him).  “As a matter of fact, I was just heading over to see the Prophet myself.  You can come along.  Follow me wherever I go.  If I see someone who may cause trouble for you, I will signal to you by pretending to adjust the strap on my shoe.  If I give you the signal, you should leave.”

Abu Dhar was glad to hear that.  He was afraid and did not want to have any trouble with anybody.

Abu Dhar followed Ali, and they went into a house.  Abu Dhar was surprised when he was suddenly standing in front of the Prophet (may the peace and blessings of Allah be upon him).  The Prophet saw that Abu Dhar was too shy to speak.  The Prophet grinned and pointed to a rug.  “Tafadal,” the Prophet said as he invited Abu Dhar to sit.

The Prophet was so kind that Abu Dhar began to feel comfortable.  Finally, Abu Dhar explained why he was there.  “Please tell me the principles of Islam,” he said.

“Islam is based on five principles,” the Prophet began.  “Testify that none has the right to be worshipped but Allah and that Muhammed is the Prophet of Allah.  Perform the formal prayers five times a day.  Donate the required amount of charity.  Perform the pilgrimage to Meccah.  Fast during the month of Ramadan.”

Abu Dhar believed, and he embraced Islam.

The Prophet (peace upon him) told Abu Dhar, “For now, you should keep your new faith a secret and return to your tribe.  When you hear that the Muslims are victorious, you may safely return here.”

Abu Dhar was too happy to keep his religion a secret.  He told the Prophet, “With respect to Allah, I am going to tell everybody I see.”

Abu Dhar went to the mosque.  Some nonbelievers were there.  Abu Dhar said, “O people, I testify that none has the right to be worshipped but Allah and that Muhammed is the Prophet of Allah.”

The unbelievers’ faces got red with anger.  “Jump him!” shouted one of the men.  With that, the unbelievers knocked down Abu Dhar and began beating and kicking him.

Al Abbas, one of the Muslims, saw what was happening.  He got on top of Abu Dhar to protect him from the kicks and punches.  “Stop it!” Al Abbas yelled.  “This man is of the Ghifar tribe.  You have to travel through the Ghifars’ land when you do business.  Do you really want to make them mad?”

The unbelievers stopped beating him, but Abu Dhar was already bruised and bloody.  He soon returned to his tribe, and he was never too shy to tell others about Islam.  May Allah be merciful to Abu Dhar because, in Islam, he found courage.

Based on a Sunnah told by Al Marwazi

WHEN someone had bad manners, Prophet Muhammed (peace and blessings upon him) still treated the person with respect and kindness. He believed that being nice to everyone, even a rude person, was a good way to make the world better.

One day the Prophet and his friends were going on a trip. They had just left town. A Bedouin saw them from a distance. He knew that the Prophet was very generous. The Bedouin had been living on the desert. He was dirty, his clothes were ragged, and his family did not have much food.

The Bedouin was riding a camel. He made his camel run quickly to the Prophet (peace upon him). “I need some food and water!” the man demanded in a rough voice. “And I need some clean clothes too.”

Prophet Muhammed (peace upon him) gave the Bedouin all the food and water that the Prophet had with him. The Prophet had packed an extra thobe (long shirt). He gave the thobe to the man also. “Is this enough to make you happy?” the Prophet asked.

“No!” the Bedouin said with a huff. “You didn’t give me enough!”

The Prophet’s friends heard the Bedouin. “Well, that was rude!” one of them said.

“Let’s teach him how to act!” another friend said. The Prophet’s friends started to fuss at the Bedouin.

The Prophet put up his hand and went, “Shhhh!” He did not want his friends to scold the rude man.

The Prophet (peace upon him) said to the Bedouin, “Let’s go back into town. I will take you to my house.”

The Prophet and the Bedouin rode their camels. They came to the Prophet’s house. The Prophet invited the man to come in. The Prophet (peace upon him) had a basket of dried dates, some camel jerky, and some bread. He gave the Bedouin most of all that.

The Prophet (peace upon him) had some cloth that someone had given him. He gave the cloth to the Bedouin. “You can make some nice clothes with this,” the Prophet said.

“Now are you happy?” the Prophet asked.

The Bedouin smiled really big. “Oh yeah!” he said. “May Allah give you lots of blessings because you were generous to me and my family.”

Prophet Muhammed (peace upon him) felt glad because the man was finally satisfied.

“You made my friends mad when you said that I had not given you enough at first,” the Prophet told the man. “I don’t want them to stay mad at you. Let’s ride back to where they are. You must thank me in front of them so they won’t be mad anymore. Say the same thing you just said.”

Prophet Muhammed (peace upon him) and the Bedouin rode back to where the Prophet’s friends were waiting. The Bedouin was smiling. He waved goodbye to the Prophet. In a really loud voice, the man said, “May Allah give you lots of blessings because you were generous to me and my family.”

The Prophet’s friends heard what the man said. After the man was gone, the Prophet told his friends, “What happened with this Bedouin reminded me of a story. A man had a camel that got loose. Everybody was trying to help him catch it. The camel got scared and ran around in circles. The people were shouting and running after it. The camel got more scared and ran further away.

“Finally the camel’s owner shouted to the people, ‘Please stop trying to help me! You’re just making the camel go further away. I know my camel better than you. I treat my camel better than you. I know how to make my camel come back, and you don’t. Just don’t help me anymore!’

“The people stopped running after the camel. The people became quiet and still. The man picked some dates from the ground. He walked toward the camel. The man was calm. He spoke nicely to the camel. The camel felt safe. The camel walked to the man and ate the dates from the man’s hand. ‘You’re such a good boy,’ the man said as he rubbed the camel’s neck. ‘Who’s your daddy?’ the man said smiling. The camel put his cheek against the man’s cheek. The camel sighed. He was glad the running and shouting were over. The man took the reins, got on the camel, and rode away. Everyone saw how well behaved the camel was after the man had treated him nicely.

“You were going to scold the Bedouin,” the Prophet reminded his friends. “If you had done that, the Bedouin would have stayed on his way to Hell.”

The rude Bedouin saw that people who worship the One God are really nice. Like the camel, the Bedouin became calm. When a person is calm, he or she can understand more about Allah (blessed and exalted is He). When the person understands more, then Allah may guide him or her to the Straight Way.

Sometimes people are rude or even cruel to us. If we fuss at them, then, like the camel, people will run further and further away. If we use mean words to tell them about Allah, they will stay away from Allah. When we are nice to them, it teaches them that Allah is nice too. Then they may want to come to Allah and follow Him (blessed and exalted is He).

First Posted at DailyMuslims.com on January 07, 2008

[This story is based on hadiths; sayings and practices of Prophet Muhammad, s.a.w., recorded by Bukhari and Abu Dawud. The names of Klyde the camel and Bar Barak are fictional.]

KLYDE was an old camel who had worked hard for many years. He had been faithful in carrying heavy packages for his owner Bar Barak. Klyde was standing under the blazing sun of a scorching day. The camel’s reins were tightly tied to a post. Bar Barak had forgotten to leave any water or grain for Klyde. Besides being thirsty and hungry, Klyde was beginning to feel uneasy. He could hear his owner and the owner’s wife in another of their many arguments. Klyde remembered that he had been beaten many times after such arguments. Bar Barak often used his camel as an object for venting his anger.

Just as Klyde had feared, Bar Barak stomped out of his house and fetched a leather whip. Bar Barak lashed the whip furiously against the camel’s flesh. The camel winced as the whip cut its skin. Fresh blood marked the trails of new lashes. Scabs marked the old wounds. Klyde wanted to run away, but the reins would not pull loose from the hitching post.

Finally Bar Barak was tired of flinging the whip. He sat in his garden and picked some grapes. He chewed them quickly and spit out the seeds.

Prophet Muhammed (peace and blessings upon him) was walking along the path that passed Bar Barak’s house. The Prophet heard Klyde’s pitiful moans. The Prophet walked over to the camel and patted Klyde’s head. He saw the wounds and understood what had happened.

The Prophet (peace!) noticed Bar Barak and walked into the garden to talk to him. “Are you not afraid of Allah who entrusted you with this camel?” the Prophet asked. “It complained to me that you beat and torture it.”

Bar Barak was too ashamed to answer. He had never considered that he was responsible to Allah for how he treated his camel.

Prophet Muhammed (peace and blessings upon him) was an animal rights activist. He believed that animals have the right to security and welfare. He believed that people are responsible for making sure that animals’ rights are not violated. During his ministry, the Prophet (peace!) put an end to brutal animal fights and other acts of cruelty.

Even animals that are used for food have the right to be raised in healthy and humane conditions. They are supposed to be killed in a way that causes the least amount of fear and pain. They have the right to die with dignity. Allah (blessed and exalted is He) has given us permission to eat meat, but He also gave us rules in how to treat the animals that He permits as food. Allah (blessed!) wants us to remember that the animals we eat are His pets. When we eat meat, let’s remember that the meat of His pets is Allah’s sacrifice for our sakes.

Prophet Muhammed (peace and blessings upon him) said, “Be afraid of Allah about these animals that cannot talk. Do not even let them stay hungry.”

People are responsible for making sure that all Allah’s creatures –domestic and wild— are able to live without sadness, sickness, and hunger. We must all work together to make our planet a good home for everybody.