For nine long months, she had counted each moment in anticipation. They had prayed to Allah night and day to make this child the coolness of their eyes, for him to spend his life in pursuit of the Pleasure of their Lord, to spread His Message to all people.
Then the day had finally come for him to come into this world. She cried with joy as she held his little life in her hands; it was a beautiful baby boy. As they held him together, her husband had looked silently into her eyes, smiling. In that brief glance she had seen all their plans for him, all his pride for her, all their joy. He changed their lives. There was no longer 'me' or 'you', the baby had become the focus of their efforts. She would long to feed him and feel the warmth of his soft cheeks against her breast, she would watch him sleep peacefully and eagerly await the moment he would wake up, just to catch a glimpse of him watching her with his little eyes. At times, she had wondered if he felt the same joy seeing his mother that she did, in seeing him. How her eyes would hunger for the moment his lips occasionally curled into a smile as he saw her. She recited the Quran with him close to her, so the Words of Allah, were the very first that he heard.
His father, spoke less. It was not that he loved him any less, just that the intensity of his feelings belied his ability to express his love. Yet every time he saw him or held him in his arms, he would hold him carefully, smiling silently as he touched his chin or kissed his forehead. He swore to himself he would do everything to protect him, to provide for him, counsel him and be the best of friends to him. He wanted to make him a good man, he wanted him to learn from what good he had done and avoid the mistakes he had made.
Yet she knew that this world was a difficult, imperfect, place; that it was a test. Every time she remembered her son would have to go through it, her heart plunged. She would raise her hands and lower her heart in supplication. Tears would stream down her cheeks.
He was born on a Friday, and by next Friday he had passed away in his sleep. His little heart had stopped beating as he lay in her lap. His warm cheeks now felt cold to the touch, his little eyes no longer opened to see his mother, his little smile was no longer seen.
"Alhamdulillah" she chanted repeatedly as she wept. Her heart throbbed with pain, but her love for Allah kept her from complaining, kept her from asking why. She accepted it as the will of Allah and was content with His decision, for no matter how much she had loved him, Allah loved him more. He had rescued him from the pains of this world, protected him from the opportunity to sin, from the breaking of his heart as he looked for perfection in an imperfect place, from seeking in the Dunya what he would never find there.
Allah had called him Home, and there was nowhere better for him to be. It made her glad. Occasionally, she would even gather the strength to smile.
Such is the beauty of faith in the unseen, of belief in Allah's Promise, that no matter what pain the world brings, no matter what is taken away from you, you have the strength to bear it, because you know this is Dunya and nothing here is meant to stay.
Indeed, we are from Allah, and to Him must we return. May Allah be pleased with us and grant us the means to please him long after we are gone, in the form of our offspring, our charities and the good deeds that we leave behind. Alhamdulillah, for everything. Stay patient in times of grief, grateful in times of joy and always, always keep whispering to Allah.
May the Peace, Blessings and Mercy of Allah be upon her, her husband and upon their son who passed away. May Allah grant them patience to stay strong and hopeful in the Mercy of Allah, and for this may Allah recompense them and their offspring with entry into the Garden of Al Firdaws. Ameen.
Al-Tirmidhi (942) narrated that Abu Sinaan said: I buried my son Sinaan and Abu Talhah al-Khoolaani was sitting at the graveside. When I wanted to go out he took my hand and said, “Shall I not give you some glad tidings, O Abu Sinaan?” I said, “Yes.” He said, “Al-Dahhaak ibn ‘Abd al-Rahmaan ibn ‘Arzab narrated to me from Abu Moosa al-Ash’ari that the Messenger of Allaah (peace and blessings of Allaah be upon him) said: “When a person’s child dies, Allaah says to His angels, ‘You have taken the child of My slave.’ They say, ‘Yes.’ He says, ‘You have taken the apple of his eye.’ They say, ‘Yes.’ He says, ‘What did My slave say?’ They say, ‘He praised you and said “Innaa lillaahi wa inna ilayhi raaji’oon (Verily to Allaah we belong and unto Him is our return).’ Allaah says, ‘Build for My slave a house in Paradise and call it the house of praise.’”
(Classed as hasan by al-Albaani in al-Silsilah al-Saheehah, 1408)
Peace, respect, love.
Shahraiz Tabassam
Dedicated to M. F. & A.
Please remember them in your prayers.
