كثيراً ما ننسى، ونحن في صراعنا اليومي للبقاء، أهمية هذه الأيام المباركة وفضلها. وكثير منا لم يعد يشعر بأن العيد عيد، وكأنه تجرد من معانيه وفرحه وبهجته وروحانيته.. لكن مشوار اليوم في طرابلس ذكرني بأشياء كثيرةاحببت ان اسجلها مخافة ان تطوى من جديد في صفحات النسيان
في السوق حركة نشيطة وزبائن تفاوض وتساوم واطفال علت وجوههم ابتسامات الرضا وطغى حماسهم المعدي على تململ اهلهم وتعبهم ليذكرني أن العيد أولاً وأخيراً مناسبة للفرح تبدأ من الأطفال لتطال الكبار
وهناك، في محل بسيط لبيع الثياب، صادفني مشهد انساني بحت لسيدة فاضلة اخذت على عاتقها شراء ثياب العيد لبعض الأطفال اليتامى. وليس هذا أمر غريب أو نادر في مدينتي، لكن استوقفتني فرحة كل طفل بما اختاره، وتمسكه بكيسه كمن يتمسك بحبل النجاة، ليذكرني ان للإحسان لذة لا تضاهى تكتمل بها فرحة الأعياد
وفي زيارة روتينية للجدة تذكرت أسمى معاني العيد: مشاركته مع من نحب؛ فأغرب ما في الفرح كونه، على عكس الأشياء كلها، يزيد كلما زاد من يشارك فيه ولا ينقص
قد تزعجنا ”عجقة العيد“ احياناً، لكنها تذكرة لمن نسي أن الفرح قادم لا محالة.. مهما سبقه من حزن وتعب وغضب
كل عام وأنتم بخير 💗
There was a time in my youth,
When Islam was only a custom.
They said “say La Ilaha Illa Allah,..
And pray, you’ll go to Heaven.”
Ah, how simple, no struggle in this,
Just a word, and simple act.
Thereafter I’m absorbed in this world again,
With my ‘assured’ place in Paradise intact.
But this was not to be my fate
For ALLAH chose to guide my heart.
I learnt of a man who struggled so hard
When his mission was from the start.
The story of someone who had morals,
Spoke gently, kindness he knew.
Never fearing to say what’s right,
His conviction in ISLAM was true.
The touch of his hand was as soft as silk
To comfort a crying child.
To mend his clothes, or do the chores,
Never complaining, he always smiled.
A living he made with his bare hands,
The same that held his mighty sword.
Valour shone from the edge of his blade,
His smell was always of musk,
And cleanliness he kept at his best.
Stark contrast with the heroes of today,
Who stink of beer and sweat.
He held the hands of his companions.
Unashamed to play with many children.
So modest, so humble, a perfect example,
That strangers could not recognise him.
His eyes slept little for nights were precious,
His prayers he treasured much greater.
To pray Tahajjud in the depths of night,
Seeking forgiveness, and nearness to his Creator.
He broke his tooth for me at Uhud,
And bled for me at Ta’if.
He cried for me, tears of concern,
Just so I could have this belief.
His enemies admired his teachings,
Uniting every religion, every clan.
Till ISLAM came to every corner of the world,
O, but indeed he was only a man.
To own a house, or build his wealth
Was not his main priority.
To establish ISLAM was more essential,
To bring us under a Higher Authority.
Don’t you want him to plea for your case,
When before ALLAH-The Judge-you stand?
Don’t you wish to be around his fountain,
A burning desire to drink from his hand?
So I love him more than all creation,
My Leader, my Humble Prophet.
Muhammad (SAWS) was a mercy to all mankind,
And to me, he is **MY BELOVED!***
By: Ahmed M Hashim
Ramadan. A month so special it refuses to be defined by a specific date of the year. It comes and goes and we wonder how time flew so quickly.I know it is a month of religion where Muslims all around the world seek forgiveness and acceptance from Allah so eagerly it becomes a month of prayers and Qur’an.
I also understand the importance of the social aspect of this great month: it is the month of family gatherings over food, talk and entertainment. A month where people decide to become generous, to forgive, to share, to be kind, to accept.. People change,some even become so different they’re hardly recognized.
What saddens me the most is the fact that most people think it is enough . Ramadan becomes the month where you do your “duty” and you are free to do otherwise all year long: You don’t have to pray after it ends, you don’t have to be at family gatherings, you don’t have to stop cheating or lying or .. you don’t have to do any of those things until the next Ramadan comes.
People always ask at the beginning of this month: are you ready for Ramadan?
I ask: are you ready for after Ramadan?? are you prepared to keep your daily routine of praying and reading Qur’an? are you willing to stay “good” after this month ends??
Are You Ready??
This is not a post about anyone else but myself.. This is only my point of view, I’m in no place to consider my words those of a sheikh, or a da3iya.. I’m just a muslim girl, proud to be that, and willing to share why..
I was born muslim of course, in that respect I was quite lucky. Discovering Islam was not so difficult or so outstanding.. I was raised to love the Prophet, to know his teachings and to worship Allah, the one and only God.
That is not why I’m muslim now, nor why I’m veiled.. In every person’s life comes this moment where he doubts everyone and everything.. especially those teachings he was raised to adore..
I will share this story because I think it was enough for me to decide I’m going to be muslim for the rest of my life.. It’s Him, His story, the story of our Prophet!
The first time we were told of his story, we were too young to understand its full meaning, too foolish to really appreciate its greatness..
Then, out of habit, all people used to repeat parts of it, just small shreds of greatness that served the purpose of their argument…
I, being a great reader, was intrigued to know more. I read a lot of books from different sources. Then I was able to know the full sides of His personality and character..
Our Prophet began his life as an orphan. His father died before he was born and his mother shortly after.. He was taken in by his grandfather who loved him greatly, but shortly after died too. Next, his guardian was his poor uncle who treated him gently but was too poor to provide for him. He had to work! He became a shepherd when he was too young.. But this was not it.. this is not why I admire my Prophet, why I love Him..
It was His impeccable character: his high ethics and sweet personality.. way before he was Prophet, he was known to be “Al Sadek, Al Amin” which translates to the honest and trustworthy..
I could tell you stories about his kindness in every aspect, his selfless acts, his wisdom…
I could tell you more about how he respected women, and ordered muslims to treat women right..
I could tell you how he won the hearts of people before he appealed to their logic..
I could tell you how he believed so hard in the message he carried that he endured all the harm and how he prevailed…
I could tell you how great a father he was, how faithful a husband, or how true a friend..
I could tell you so many things.. but I won’t..
I will only tell you about his humanity..
When he lost his loved ones, he grieved..
When his boy died, He was saddened..
When he felt lost, he desperately sought help from Allah..
When he wanted to decide something, he asked for opinions..
When he loved, he was jealous..
When he made mistakes, he apologized..
This is why I’m muslim, this is why I want to be muslim till the day I die.. I’m muslim because my Prophet showed me what a human being can become.. with all our human shortcomings, with all the ups and downs of life, He stood tall.. He was Human, but He overcame all that came his way..
He gives me hope everyday.. I want to become a better person because he showed me I can.. I want to try my best and behave like him, because He is the proof it can be done…
This is why I’m muslim.. And proud!