Jump to content
Islamic Forum
Sign in to follow this  
emy_16

Stories :)

Recommended Posts

Salaam, Everyone :D

Ok, mashallah I have been reading this book about differen't stories regarding differen't times in the life of our prophet Muhammad (SAW) and they are sooooo nice that I thought I would share them with you! :D

 

 

First Story!

1

Abd Al-Muttalib and

The Well of Zam-Zam

 

Late one, night long ago, an aged Arabic cheif told this story to his little gradson, Muhammad. It all took place in MAkka, an ancient city in the vast desert country of arabia.

In Makka, ther stands a sacred place called the Ka'ba. It has been sacred since the time of Abraham, perhaps even much ealier from the time of Adam. It was there, they say, that the Angel Gabriel presented the prophet Abraham with a milk-white stone, according to the story, has been tarnished by the sins of man, and has turned black. So now it is called the black stone. Only a few peices of it remain in the Ka'ba oday, where Muslims from all over the world still come once a year on pilgrimage.

In the days of Abd al-Muttalib, Muhammad's grandfather, all kinds of other objects were heaped in the Ka'ba. There were strange oddly-shaped idols hewn out of red sandstone and other images carved into the shapes of men and godesses. There were magic statues called Hubal, Al-Lat, Al-Uzza that were beleived to have the power to make you rich, cure you of a plague, grant you a son, or bring you the princess of your dreams. Most of the pilgrams had forgotten about the One Almighty God, and had through the years become idolators, putting their faith and trust into a carved image made by man, rather than in the One God that created man in the first place.

They worshipped their odd-shaped images with sacrifices rites and chants; and in the evenings while squatting in front of the Ka'ab, they drank and gambled or threw arrows and darts trying to foretell the future, while the crowds of eager listeners would gather around the storytellers.

These storytellers, the poets of Arabia, could neither read nor write, but they had marvellous memories and would sin long tales in beautiful poetry all about Jinns- the spirits of the dessert as they described them, the Jinns who create mirages in order to trick the traveler into thinking there is cool water ahead.....or cause the sands to sing mysteriously at night, with a sound like distant laughter. The storytellers would tell tales of battles and lost lovers, as well as give the latest news from from far-away places. They had the power to twist the truth or ruin a mans whole life by a verse or clever peice of gossip. They were the newsmen of the dessert.

Muhammads grandfather Abd Al-Muttalib was a cheif and belonged to an important family called the Quraysh, descended from the Prophet Abraham. Aged and repected, he had his own palce in the Ka'ba, in front of the Sacred Well. Beside him sat his little grandson Muhammad the orphan. Other members of the clan would waggle their beards in dissaproval at the way Abd Al-Muttalib spioled his grandson.

"He is only six years old and instead of sending him off to bed, you let him to stay up among adults into the dark hours of the night..."

Abd Al-Muttalib felt it was no business of theirs; the boy had been left in his charge, after the death of his parents. So Muhammad, wrapped in his grandfateher's great cloak, would listen half the night to the many stories old Abd Al-Muttalib liked telling to the family and friends who gathered around. Usally Muhammad fell asleep when the words were too diffacult to understand, but tonight he knew that the stories his grandfather was telling were meant for his ears, too. And so he listened, his deep round eyes fixed on his grandfather's weathered skin and white beard.

'Now, when I was young and poor, and looked down upon by the wealthy members of my clan, my little son and I had hard task of going to the well to well, collecting water for the many pilgrams who came, as tehys till do, from far across the desert to worship at the Ka'ba. The wells around the Ka'ab were often empty or gave bad water. That was before the Sacred Well had been found. Now- before I go on- do you remember the story of of thsi well- the sacred well of Zam-Zam?

Muhammad smiled in response- he certainly did remember it. But Abd Al-Muttalib continued anyway, because he loved to tell this story.

'Hager and her little son Ishmeal , the son of Abraham, were brought to live in the valley of Makka, where there was no water and nothing grew. Soon they where wandering hopelessly under the hot desert sun. But it was not Gods will that they should perish. Lo! The Angel Gabriel appeared in a vision of light. He struck the sand and up gushed a crystal-clear spring of water right at the little boy's feet. That spring was named the well of Zam-Zam. But in the course of time the well diappeared, and no one even knew where it had once been. Well now, my little son had heard the story as often as you have, and one day he asked me, "Father, would a spring of water brought forth by the Angel Gabriel dry up and disappear forever?"

'I answered that if it was a sacred well, it certainly should not dry up. Then he asked me, "If that were so, then, Father where is it now?"

'Ah! That is what started us looking. We began digging and we dug for days and weeks. The winds kept shifting heavy sands filled in the holes we were digging again and again. Still we kept on and on, even though people-and members of my own clan- shrugged their shoulders in disgustor called out mockingly, "You are looking for a needle in a sandstorm!" But you see, I was convinced. I was o sure we would find the well that I made a promise to myself and God:

If the sacred well of Zam-Zam is found, there will be no more laughter, there will be praise: and my name will be spoken with respect by the people of Makka and my clan the Quraysh. Therefore, if I am blessed with ten sons, the tenth shall I offer up to the Almighty God.

'And then a remarkable thing happened. My spade struck something hard, and I unearthed two huge peices of gold in the shape of gazelles. Right underneath them where they had lain the sand was dark and moist- and the waters of Zam-Zam rose before our verry eyes and filled the hole where the gazelles had been. Of course, some people were more interested in the gold rather than in the well, but I told them that the gold belonged to the Ka'ba, and if you look when you leave, you will see, Muhammad, the two gold disks hanging over the entry of the Ka'ba. From that day on the sweet waters of Zam-Zam have gushed forth generously for the pilgrams. And you see that your grandfather is praised and respected!"

At this moment the others smiled and nodded.

'And I was given a title: Keeper of the well of Zam-Zam, and my place is not out there, under the hot sun, but here in the shade of the Ka'ba, by the sacred well.'

Muhammad, instead of going to sleep, was more awake than ever. His grandfather, seeing this, continued with naother story.

 

 

*Inshallah you will enjoy this story like I did!*

 

*And Inshallah whenever I find the time I will try and post another story!*

 

Salaam,

eman :D

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

salam

very nice story. Wish someone would tell me these stories in my bedtime.

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Salaam, Bro

Thanks! :D

You have a bedtime? LOL :D

Inshallah I will post some more stories today! :D

 

salam

very nice story. Wish someone would tell me these stories in my bedtime.

 

 

Salaam,

emy :D

Edited by emy_16

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Salaam, Everyone :D

Here is the next story!

 

2

The Feast of the

*100* One hundered Camels!

 

'And now, I shall tell you about the Feast of the One Hundered Camels. What a noble beast the camel is! How valuable to the Arab people, think of it. What animal can go for twenty five days without water? Why, a man under such circumstances would have perished long befor the twentieth!

'Now tell me, my little man who once lived with the bedouin, how did they cook their meals and heat their bodies on cold desert nights?'

Before Muhammad had a chance to answer this question and the others that followed, his grandfather had answered them himself and gone on with the story.

'Why, they used the camel's dung for fuel and heat', continued his grandfather. 'And what did someone discover long ago, when his skin bag full of camel's milk had been shaken up on a long trek across the dessert? Why, cheese, of course! And what is the tastiest meat of all, after a long days journey? The meat of a camel, well roasted untill tender. And what, tell me, is used to make tents? A camels hide. And this is his last offering to man. Without the camel, no one would be able to survive in this country of desserts. So that is why, you see, my little one, a camels life according to tradition, may be worth the life of a man'.

Abd al-Mutalib turned to the elders then, and proceeded with his story in a deep but quite voice.

'After this boys father was born, I was faced with an awful reminder. I had made a pledge to God, and the time had come for it to be fulfilled. Perhaps some of you remember the night? Indeed, how could anyone forget who had been present at the time.

'The air was so still as to be stifling. The shadows sharp and unrelenting before the sacrificial altar where my sons and I had gathered. Surely, they must have foreseen a sombre event, yet they did not hold back. I told them about the pladge- that when I was young and searching ferverntly for the well of Zam-Zam, I made a promise to God, if he should give me 10 sons to grow to maturity to help me with my work, that I would sacrifice one of them near the Ka'ba...how proud a father I was in the secret of my heart, when they all consented. Then, you remember, the arrows of chance were drawn, and his name,.....my beloved 'Abdullah's name...was called out.

'Ah, my heart turned to ice within my breat. Yet, girding up my courage and will I clasped my young son by the hand and led him, with determined steps, to the sacrificial altar. It was at that instant...do you remember?....that cries of compassion arose and a voice proclaimed "Hold! Father of Abdullah, stay your hand! This cannot be!"

'I turned, stunned and confused to face the assembly. The men of the Quraysh were gathered in fervent consultation.

"We have decided," they announced, "to consult the sources of Madina.....and we are off to see her now!"

'Well two long days went by before the answer came. And again we gathered between the sacrificial idols, while the decision of the sorceress was announced:

"One arrow shall be for ten camels, the other arrow with the name of your son. Ten camels shall equal the life of your son. If the arrow drawn is that of your son, then multiply the number of camels, and draw again....keep drawing untill God is satisfied."

'Again and again we threw the arrows untill finally the camels arrow was drawn, and the number to be sacrified was 100. With tears in on my cheeks and thanks in my heart I embraced my young son.

'What great rejoicing there was in the city that night! One hundred camels were sacrified, and we prepared a huge feast. All the citizens of Makka, down to the verry poorest, were given a generous share: it was said that even the littlest beasts of the dessert partook of the scraps. And untill this day, no one- and I'm sure none of you were present- has ever forgotten the Feast of the One Hundred Camels.'

The lights of the Ka'ba were growing dim. Abd al-Mutalib gathered up his grandson in his huge, warm cloak, while the others took leave of him and made their way home through the dark, and narrow winding streets.

Those who had just listened to the tale did not dream- nor did anyone else in Makka at that time- that 'Abdullah of the One Hundred Camels had indeed severed God's purpose; not as a sacrifice but as the father of Muhammad (SAW) God's messenger, later to be called the Last of the Prophets.

 

 

Inshallah everyone will enjoy this story like I did!

 

Salaam, Your friend

emy :D

 

P>S I will post another tomarrow inshallah! :D :D :D

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Salaam, Everyone

Here is a picture to go along with the 2snd story! :D

camel.jpg

Edited by emy_16

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Salaam, Everyone :D

Here ia another story!

 

 

3

The Spot

 

The Merchants of Makka were a clever lot. They bargained and sold their striped cloth from Yemen and their sweet smelling oils and perfumes at an ample profit to the pilgrams and travellers who bustled through their dusty crowded streets. They traded in dates, camel caravans bound for other lands. They were clever, but not strong and healthy, and they spoke a colourless Arabic.

For this reason, some of the mothers of the cheif tribes, liked the Quraysh, sent their children to the dessert to be raised by the bedouin.

Beyond the city and far out into the dessert lived these nomadic Bedouin Arabs. Unlike the Makkans they spoke a pure Arabic, but they were harsh and fierce. They had to be fierce and courageous to survive the ordeals of the dessert: the sandstorms and the sorching sun, the cold dark lonely nights under the stars. They were called the Piartes of the Dessert because they plundered other tribes in sport, and movered from oasis to oasis with their tents and cattle, seeking pasture. They were pround and had a high sense of honour and were loyal to their tribes. Above all, they were hospitable. They knew that no one, not even an enemy, should be turned out into the dessert to perish.

Now before Muhammad had come to live with his grandfather, his mother Amina had placed him with the Bedouin Arabs so that he too would grow strong and healthy and speak a pure Arabic.

One day the time came for him to return. Mounted on a camel the boy and his Bedouin nurse Halima made their way back to Makka. They reached Amina's house and were welcomed and given food. Then the two women began to speak in whispers while the child stayed a distance. The nurse was telling a strange story about the child she had brought back home.

'He told me that when he was tending the sheep two strangers- dressed all in white like angels- appeared out of nowhere. They laid him on the ground and opened his chest and removed a black spot from his heart....then they closed his chest again- and dissapeared.

Amina spoke with hesitation. 'Perhaps.....perhaps. It is but the story of a child?'

'Yes, but you see', insisted the nurse, 'I saw the two strangers with my own eyes. I saw them come from out of nowhere and I saw them disappear'.

Amina bowed her head and was silent. And what she thought of this story we will never know, for she diden't live long enough after that to tell about it.

 

Inshallah you like these stories!

 

Salaam,

emy :D

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Assalam Alaikum

 

Mashah Allah... Wonderful stories.. Please keep posting more..

 

Sister, can u tell me which book is this ?? As I want to buy a book full of Islamic related stories.

 

I love reading them..

 

Jazaak Allah Khair

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Salaam, Brother :D

Alhumdulillah I am *happy* you like the stories! :D Inshallah I will post more stories every time I get a chance...they really are sooo nice mashallah I enjoy reading them too!

 

The books name is: Marvellous Stories from the Life of Muhammad

Author: Mardijah Aldrich Tarantino

 

Assalam Alaikum

 

Mashah Allah... Wonderful stories.. Please keep posting more..

 

Sister, can u tell me which book is this ?? As I want to buy a book full of Islamic related stories.

 

I love reading them..

 

Jazaak Allah Khair

 

Salaam,

emy

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Assalam Alaikum

 

Jazaak Allah Khair for the Book name :D

 

BUT do continue the stories posting here..

 

May Allah (SWT) reward you for sharing these beautiful stories.. ameen

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Salaam, Bro :D

Your welcome! I will share another story now :D :D

Ameen..inshallah

 

Salaam,

emy :D

 

 

Assalam Alaikum

 

Jazaak Allah Khair for the Book name :D

 

BUT do continue the stories posting here..

 

May Allah (SWT) reward you for sharing these beautiful stories.. ameen

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Salaam,

Another story! :D

 

4

The Caravan

 

And so, Muhammad, the little orphan who had lost both his father 'Abdullah and his mother Amina, was placed in the care of his granfather, the keeper of the well of Zam-Zam. Those days were happy ones, because the old man and boy truely loved one another. But finally, old Abd al-muttalib's time came to leave the earth, and with his death, the days of Muhammads childhood came to an end.

He was led to the home of his uncle, Abu Talib, feeling sad and verry lonely. Abu Talib did his best to make a home for the boy, and he must have succedeed, becuase before long Muhammad began to console himself. But never in all the days of his life would he forget that he ha donce been an orphan without a mother or father to care for him.

His new was entirely differen't from anything he had ever know before. Uncle Talib was neither a storyteller nor a dreamer. He was not a verry successful Makkan merchant, and had no time for tales of angels or by-gone prophets. He spent his days and nights worrying about the stock of his merchandise and calculating the results of his business ventures.

Muhammad was twelve years old when his uncle began preparing for a long trip. His own camel caravan was going to make the long journey to Syria. The camels had to be examined, the packs secured, the merchandise accounted for, the supplies of water checked, and now, finally, the caravan was ready for departure. The night before the caravan was to depart, Muhammad could not sleep. More than anything he wanted to accompany his uncle on the trip to Syria.

The next day Abu Talib was shouting orders and checking and re-checking the merchandise,while Muhammad stood by and watched. Finally, not able to hold himself back any longer, he rushed up to his uncle, grabbed his hand and pleaded that he be allowed to accompany him. Abu Talib was taken aback. Muhammad had never acted this way before, but the intensity in the dark eyes of his nephew could not be ignored. 'Well if you must', he said, 'you may join us'.

More oders were shouted, and the long caravan began its trek across the sands, winding its way through towns and oases, and back into the dessert again. There was plenty of time for the telling of talesand plenty of opportunity for Muhammad to listen, his great dark eyes shinning, to what was being told; and late at night, under the stars of the dessert he lay wondering about the meaning of the tales he had heard.

He wondered about the Thamud, the giant peoplewho had hewn their homes out of solid rock- the same rock the caravan had passed at sundown that day.

Edited by emy_16

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Assalam Alaikum

 

Jazaak Allah Khair for the another story..

 

May Allah (SWT) reward you for this.. ameen

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Assalam Alaikum

 

Do keep posting thm :D

Share this post


Link to post
Share on other sites

Create an account or sign in to comment

You need to be a member in order to leave a comment

Create an account

Sign up for a new account in our community. It's easy!

Register a new account

Sign in

Already have an account? Sign in here.

Sign In Now

Sign in to follow this  

×