A Beautiful Story

Every Friday afternoon, after the Jumat services at the Central Mosque
(and shortly after Al-Usrah program), 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 'Mu'allim' dad asked, 'Ready for what?'

'Dad, it's time we gather our booklets together and go out.'

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
side walk 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, this eleven year old da'wah-expert 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!'

Well, the following Friday afternoon after Jumat service (during which
period they hold a weekly program, Al-Usrah) 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 voice was heard
over the speaker. As the voice went on, a hint of glorious gaiety and
contentment was plainly evident in it even though it wasn't to be
seen, '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 passed away some time ago, leaving me totally alone in
this world. Last Friday, being a particularly cold and rainy day, it
was even more so in my heart that I came to the end of the line where
I no longer had any hope or will to live.

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. And as shouts of TAKBIR!!!
ALLAH AKBAR!!! rented the air, even among the ladies, despite
themselves.

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 Papa that was more filled with love and
honour for his son....... Except for One. This very one...
Every Friday afternoon, after the Jumat services at the Central Mosque
(and shortly after Al-Usrah program), the Imam and his eleven year old son would go out into their town and hand out "PATH TO PARADISE" and other Islamic literature.

by Dawah Dudes