I still remember the night my wife gave birth to my first son. I was not yet thirty years of age and had stayed out with my friends in a restaurant all night. It was an evening full of vain talk, not to mention backbiting and vulgar comments. I was often the one who instigated the comments and backbiting that made them laugh.

I remember that I made them laugh a lot that night. I had the unique talent of mimicking others to an uncanny degree. I could change the tone of my voice so that it became exactly like the person I was mocking. Yes, it was my habit to mock all people, even my friends. Some people avoided me in order to be safe from my tongue.

I remember that night I mocked a blind person I saw begging in the market. What is even worse is that I put my foot in his way and he tripped and fell to the ground. He kept on turning his head this way and that, not knowing what to say. I laughed in a loud voice and my laugh echoed throughout the market. I went back home late as usual and found my wife waiting for me. She was in a pathetic condition.

With a quavering voice, she said, “Raashid… where were you?”


I said sarcastically, “On Mars! I was with my friends of course.”

She appeared very tired and fatigued. She was overcome with tears and said, “Raashid... I am exhausted…it seems like I am about to give birth.” Then a silent tear fell on her cheek.


I felt that I had neglected my wife. I was supposed to take care of her and stop my evenings out, particularly as she was in her ninth month.

I quickly accompanied her to the hospital.

She entered the delivery room and was in labor pains for several hours, while I waited impatiently for the birth. She suffered from a difficult delivery. I waited for a long time until I got tired, then I went home and left my phone number in order for them to call me and give me the good news.

An hour later, they called me in order to give me the good news of the birth of Saalim. I immediately went to the hospital. When they saw me asking about my wife’s room, they asked me to meet the doctor first. I shouted, “What doctor? I want to see my son, Saalim.” They said, “You have to meet the doctor first.”

I entered upon the doctor and she started talking to me about afflictions and being satisfied with fate. Then she said, “Your child suffers from a serious deformity in his eyes and it appears that he is blind!”

I lowered my head, trying to conceal my tears. I remembered the blind beggar I had tripped up in the market and made people laugh at.

Glory be to Allah! What goes around comes around! I kept silent for a while and did not know what to say. Then I remembered my wife and son. I thanked the doctor for her kindness and then went to see my wife.

My wife was not sad because she believed in and was satisfied with the divine decree of Allah The Almighty. She had often advised me to stop mocking people. She had often repeated: do not backbite people.

We came out of the hospital with my son Saalim. The fact was that I did not care much about him much and ignored his presence at home. When he cried, I would flee to the living room to sleep. My wife, however, showered him with love and care. As for me, I did not hate him, but I could not love him either!

Saalim started growing and he started to crawl like all babies, but in a strange abnormal way. When he was almost one year old, he tried to walk but we discovered that he was disabled. This affected me a great deal.

Later, my wife gave birth to my other sons, Khaalid and ‘Umar.

Years passed and Saalim and his brothers grew up. I did not like to stay at home and spent most of my time with my friends; I was like a toy in their hands and completely under their influence. My wife, however, did not despair of reforming me; she was always supplicating Allah The Almighty to guide me. She never got angry at my irrational actions, but she was greatly grieved when she saw me ignoring Saalim and taking care of his brothers.

Saalim grew up and my pain grew as well. I did not object when my wife asked to enroll him in a school for the disabled. I did not feel the passing of years. The routine in which I spent my days was: work, sleep, eating and enjoyment in the evenings.

One Friday, I woke up at eleven o'clock in the morning. It was too early by my usual standards. I has been invited to a wedding banquet, so I put on my clothes, applied perfume and went out.

I passed by the living room – but I stopped when I saw that Saalim was weeping bitterly!

It was the first time I had paid attention to Saalim’s weeping since he was a child. Ten years had passed and I had never given him any attention. I tried to ignore him but I could not. I heard his voice calling his mother while I was in the room.

I turned and then approached him. I said, “Saalim, Why are you crying?”


When he heard my voice, he stopped crying. When he felt me approaching him, he started trying to feel around him with his small hands. Why was he doing that? I saw that he was trying to move away from me! It is as if he was saying, “Now you deign to take notice of my presence! Where were you ten years ago?”

I followed him and he entered his room. In the beginning, he refused to tell my why he was weeping. It was only when I spoke gently to him that he ventured to mention the reason behind his weeping. As I listened to him, I began trembling. Do you know why?

His brother ‘Umar, who used to accompany him to the mosque (Masjid) was late and because it was Friday, he was afraid of not finding a place in the first row. Saalim called ‘Umar and his mother but neither of them answered. Thus, he began weeping. I looked at the tears falling from his blind eyes and could not bear the sight, and so, I put my hand on his mouth and said, “Are you weeping for this reason, O Saalim!” He replied, “Yes…”

I forgot my friends. I forgot the banquet. I said, “Saalim, don’t be sad. Do you know who will accompany you to the mosque today?” He said, “‘Umar, of course. But he is always late.” I said, “No. I will accompany you.” Saalim was surprised and could not believe his ears. He thought that I was mocking him, and continued to weep.

 

I wiped away his tears with my hands and held his hand. I wanted to take him to the mosque by car but he refused, arguing that it was close by and that he wanted to walk to the mosque. I felt ashamed because I could not even remember the last time I had entered the mosque. However, it was the first time I was feeling fear and regret for my negligence over the past years.

The mosque was full of worshippers, but I managed to find a place for Saalim in the first row. We listened to the Friday Khutbah (sermon) together and he prayed beside me; actually, no, I prayed beside him.

After the end of the prayer, Saalim asked me to hand him a copy of the Quran. I was surprised: how could he read when he was blind?


I was about to ignore his request, but I responded for fear of hurting his feelings. I handed him the copy of the Quran.

He asked me to open it and get the beginning of Chapter Al-Kahf. I kept on turning the pages one time and searching for the page number in the index another time until I finally found it.

He took it from me, put it before him and started to recite the Chapter while his eyes were closed. He had memorized the whole Chapter!

I was ashamed of myself. I picked up another copy of the Quran.

I felt a shiver going through my body as I read more and more of it. I asked Allah The Almighty to forgive and guide me and began crying like a child. I kept reading the Quran and asked Allah The Almighty to forgive and guide me.

There were still some people at the mosque performing the voluntary prayer. I was embarrassed and tried to hold back my tears, but my crying turned into weeping and sobbing.

I did not feel a small hand touching my face and wiping away my tears. It was Saalim. I embraced him, looked at him and said to myself: "You are not the blind; rather, I was the blind one when I followed some dissolute persons who were dragging me to Hell."

We returned home to my wife, who was very worried about Saalim. Her worry turned into tears of joy when she came to know that I had performed the Friday prayer with Saalim.

From that day on, I did not miss any congregational prayer in the mosque. I deserted my bad companions and had righteous companions whom I befriended at the mosque. I tasted the sweetness of faith with my new friends and learnt things from them that I had been too preoccupied by worldly pleasures to know. I never missed a gathering of knowledge or a Witr prayer and completed the recitation of the Quran many times within one month, by the grace of Allah The Almighty. I kept my tongue often busy with remembrance of Allah The Almighty, hoping that He would forgive me for past habit of backbiting and mocking people. I felt that I got closer to my family. The look of fear and pity that always loomed in my wife's eyes disappeared.

Now, a smile never leaves Saalim’s face. Anyone who sees him would feel as if he owns the whole world with everything in it. I praised Allah The Almighty so much for His favors.

One day, my righteous friends decided to visit a remote area in order to give Da‘wah. I was hesitating about going with them. I performed the Istikhaarah prayer and consulted my wife. I had expected that she would refuse but her answer was the opposite!

She was very happy and even encouraged me. She used to see me traveling for dissolute purposes to commit lewd acts in the past without consulting her. I went to Saalim and told him that I was going away for a few days, and he embraced me with his small arms and bid me farewell. I left home for three months and a half. During that period, I used to call my family whenever I had the chance. I missed them so much! I missed Saalim so much!

I wished to hear his voice. He was the only one who I could not speak with since I had traveled for he was either in school or the mosque whenever I called them.

Whenever I told my wife how I missed him, she laughed from sheer joy and happiness. The last time I called her, however, she did not sound her normal self and I did not hear her expected laugh.

I asked her to convey my greetings to Saalim. She replied, “In shaa’ Allah (God Willing)” and kept silent.

Finally I went back home. I knocked on the door, hoping to see Saalim opening the door, but I was surprised when my son Khaalid, who was less than four years old, opened the door. I carried him in my arms while he cried out in joy, “Father! Father!”

I do not know why I felt a sense of distress when I entered the house. I sought refuge in Allah The Almighty from the accursed devil. My wife came forward with an unusually strained face: it was as if she was faking her joy and happiness.

I looked at her carefully and then asked her, “What is the matter?” She said, “Nothing.” Suddenly I remembered Saalim and said, “Where is Saalim?”

She lowered her head and did not answer and some tears fell on her cheeks. I cried out, “Saalim! Where is Saalim?” Thereupon, I heard only the voice of my son, Khaalid, saying in a childish tone, “Saalim went to Paradise...he is with Allah…”

My wife could not bear her sorrow in silence anymore and burst into tears. She was about to fall unconscious on the ground, and left the room.

Later, I came to know that Saalim had contracted fever two weeks before my return. My wife took him to the hospital but his fever got worse and he died.