Wa laman sabara wa ghafara inna zaalika lamin ‘azmil umoor
Ash-Shura (The Consultation) - 42:43 But withal, if one is patient in adversity and forgives - this, behold, is indeed something to set one’s heart upon!
Patience in the face of insults (and even praise)
The Prophet ﷺ lived like any ordinary person, devoid of privileges usually associated with leaders. He ﷺ once borrowed some money from a Jewish man called Zayd ibn Sa‘nah, in a report narrated in his name. "Prophet Muhammadﷺ was attending the funeral of a man from the Ansar. Some other companions were with him. After the funeral prayer he sat down close to a wall, and I came towards him, grabbed him by the edges of his cloak, looked at him in a harsh way and said, ‘O Muhammad! Will you not pay me back my loan? I have not known the family of Abdul-Mutallib to delay in repaying debts!’ although it was still a few days before the deadline was due to lapse. 'Umarؓ, unable to tolerate this, angrily berated me! ‘ O enemy of God, do you talk to the Messenger of God and behave towards him in this manner?! By the One who sent him with the truth, had it not been for the fear of not entering the Heavenly Gardens, I would have beheaded you with my sword!’
The Prophetﷺ, however, kept smiling and said to 'Umarؓ: 'This man is entitled to better treatment from you. You ought to have advised me to repay the loan promptly and advised him to be more courteous in demanding repayment.' Then, turning to me the Prophetﷺ said, smiling: “There are still three days to go before the promise has to be fulfilled.” He ﷺ then requested 'Umarؓ to get some dates so that the loan could be repaid, and to give me an extra twenty measures for the rebuke and for scaring me. 'Umarؓ went with me and repaid the debt. Upon receiving the extra dates, I asked him why and he replied, ‘The Messenger of Godﷺ ordered me to give it to you because I might have scared you.’ I realised then that 'Umarؓ had no idea who I was and so I said, 'I am Zaid ibn Sanah, the Rabbi'. 'Umarؓ was rather surprised and asked me why I behaved in such a way. I explained that I had seen many signs of prophethood in Muhammadﷺ but had yet to see two, and my objective was to test the final two signs. The signs were that patience would take precedence over anger, and that harsh treatment was repaid with kindness. Having seen those signs, I accepted himﷺ as a true prophet, and thus accepted Islam." This report is related in Ibn Hibban’s collection (no. 288). Its wording is presented here as a retelling, rather than a verbatim translation.
Lalla Ded is a Kashmiri mystic revered by Muslims and Hindus alike, much like another mystic Kabir. Traditions about her cross religious boundaries, and she has had a profound influence on Kashmiri Sufism. In the legends, she is described in her later years as walking unclad, saying that she did not need to cover herself in front of children (meaning everyone around). Legend has it that the only time she covered herself ( jumping into a blazing tandoor), was when Mir Sayyid Ali Hamdani came to Kashmir, and the reason she gave was that it was the first time a "man" had come in the neighbourhood. The teaching story that I want to share is about someone who regarded her highly and wanted to follow her around to learn from her. They had hardly gone a short distance during her routine promenade when some kids started yelling at her, shouting curses, and throwing stones at her. The new disciple was enraged, and Lalla Ded had to hold him back. She then took him to a cloth merchant and asked for a measure of cloth. In those days cloth was sold by weight, as it is still done in some parts of the world. She then told the disciple to put it around his neck, equal parts dangling to the right and to the left. And every time someone would insult her, she asked him to put a knot on the left side. After knotting a few times, they came across some people who revered her, and even prostrated to her, so she told the disciple to tie a knot on the right side every time someone praised or revered her. So saying, they carried on with their journey. The disciple was perhaps expecting a miracle of sorts and imagining all sorts of things. Yet, at the end of the day, the story does not even mention which side had more knots, the left or the right. Rather, she took the cloth back to the merchant and asked him to weigh it again. Lo and behold, the weight was the same as it was in the morning. Therein lay the lesson of the saint. No matter how much someone curses you or praises you, it should not affect you in a way that changes who you are. Your net worth should remain the same.
Source Note
The Zayd ibn Sa‘nah report appears in Ibn Hibban, no. 288, with parallel recensions collected here. Those recensions differ in the wording of the demand for repayment: the negative wording retained above is present in the Ibn Hibban text. Al-Mizzi describes the report as hasan and well-known; this post has not independently assessed its chains. The Lalla Ded accounts are presented as legends and teaching stories, rather than established biography.
Alam ya’ni lil lazeena aamanooo an takhsha’a quloobuhum lizikril laahi wa maa nazala minal haqqi...
Part of Al-Hadid (Iron) - Is it not time that the hearts of all who have attained to faith should feel humble at the remembrance of God and of all the truth that has been bestowed [on them] from on high, 57:16
The time to change is NOW
Lesson 1:
Ismail Haqqi (Hakki) Bursevi, a renowned Turkish scholar and mystic, writes in his tafsir Rūḥ al-bayān, one of the most prominent mystical interpretations of the Quran, about the transformative power of this verse. He references the stories of Abdullah bin Mubarak and Malik bin Dinar, illustrating its transformative power in devotional literature.
"One day, when I was young, I was in an orchard with my companions. We ate and drank, and as I was fond of playing the lute, I picked it up at night to play. But suddenly, the lute spoke to me and recited: ‘Has the time not come for those who believe that their hearts should become humble for the remembrance of Allah?’ (Quran 57:16). In that moment, I struck the lute against the ground, breaking it, and abandoned all distractions that diverted me from Allah."
Similarly, it is narrated that Malik ibn Dinar (may Allah have mercy on him) was once asked about the reason for his repentance. He recounted:
"I was a policeman, deeply immersed in drinking alcohol. Then, I purchased a beautiful slave girl, and she became very dear to me. Over time, she bore me a daughter, whom I loved dearly. As she grew older and began to walk, my love for her only deepened. She became attached to me, and I to her. Whenever I would place a goblet of wine before me, she would come and knock it over, spilling it on my clothes.
When she turned two years old, she passed away. The grief over her death overwhelmed me.
Then, on the night of the 15th of Sha’ban, which was a Friday, I drank heavily and, in my drunken state, neglected to perform the Isha prayer. That night, I had a dream. It was as if the graves had opened, and people were being gathered for judgment. I was among them. Suddenly, I heard a terrifying sound behind me. When I turned around, I saw a massive serpent, the largest I had ever seen. It was dark blue and black, with its mouth wide open, rushing towards me at great speed.
Terrified, I ran. I passed by an old man, dressed in white and fragrant with a pleasant scent. I greeted him and pleaded, ‘Help me! Save me!’
The old man replied, ‘I am too weak to help you. This creature is far too strong for me. But run ahead—perhaps Allah will provide you with a means of escape.’
I fled, running in desperation, until I reached the edge of the Hereafter. I saw the fires of Hell before me, and I almost fell into them out of fear. But then, a voice called out, ‘Turn back! You are not among its people!’
Relieved, I turned back, only to find that the serpent was still in pursuit.
I ran back to the old man and said, ‘I begged you to help me, yet you did nothing!’
The old man wept and said, ‘I am too weak. But go to that mountain over there. It holds the trusts of the believers. If you have a deposit there, it will protect you.’
I looked towards the mountain and saw it was circular, full of windows, each covered with fine silk curtains. Every door and window had golden panels adorned with precious jewels. As I ran towards it, the serpent followed closely behind.
Then, an angel called out, ‘Lift the curtains! Open the doors! Look out, all of you! Perhaps this desperate man has something among you that can save him!’
At once, the doors opened, and radiant children with faces like full moons looked out. The serpent was drawing near, and I stood frozen in fear.
One of the children suddenly shouted, ‘All of you, hurry and help him!’
A group of them emerged, and among them, I saw my daughter. When she saw me, she wept and said, ‘By Allah, that is my father!’
She leaped from the group like an arrow and landed before me. She stretched out her left hand, grasping my right, and with her right hand, she warded off the serpent, which then fled.
She then seated me, climbed onto my lap, and lovingly stroked my beard. She said, ‘O my father, has the time not come for those who believe that their hearts should become humble for the remembrance of Allah?’ (Quran 57:16).
I wept and asked, ‘My dear child, do you know the Quran?’
She replied, ‘O father, we know it better than you do.’
I asked her, ‘Tell me about that serpent that was chasing me.’
She said, ‘That was your evil deeds, which you nourished with your sins until it became so strong that it was about to throw you into Hell.’
I asked, ‘And the old man I met on the way—who was he?’
She replied, ‘That was your good deeds. You had weakened them so much that they could no longer help you.’
I asked, ‘And what is this mountain?’
She replied, ‘These are the children of the believers, who have passed away in their innocence. We dwell here until the Day of Judgment, waiting for you to join us, so we may intercede for you.’
At that moment, I awoke, terrified. When morning came, I abandoned my past way of life, repented to Allah, and this is how I returned to Him.’"
What are we waiting for?
Lesson 2:
In Al-Dhahabi's Siyar A'lam al-Nubala (The Lives of Noble Figures), Al-Fadl b. Mûsâ reports the story of a highwayman by the name of Al-Fuḍayl ibn ‘Iyāḍ. Leading a group of bandits, he robbed caravans and waylaid innocent travelers and was therefore notorious along those routes. One night he was en route to meet the girl that he loved, and passing through someone’s garden, he was about to jump over a wall when he heard someone reciting the Qur'an. He heard the following part of Al-Hadid, 57:16:
Hearing this, he was overcome with grief. He exclaimed, “Indeed my Lord, it is time.” Then he ran away from that place. He walked and walked while sobbing incessantly and uttering prayers of repentance until he found himself in some ruins far from habitation and sought refuge there. Upon seeing that some travelers had camped there, he hid himself from them. He couldn't help overhearing their conversation. Someone said, “We should move on.” Others said, “Wait until morning, Al-Fudayl operates in this area, he will rob us.” In his condition, he was really devastated as he thought to himself, “I spend the night in sin and there are some Muslims here spending a restless night in fear of me."
Without delaying any further, he repented from his errant ways and tried to visit each of his known victims to repay them what he had stolen from them, and when he ran out of available goods, he visited them to beg their forgiveness. He became a recluse in Makkah, and ended up becoming a very pious scholar, and is now well known as one of the great imams of Muslims. The following account illustrates the transformation associated with his repentance:
One night the Abbasid Caliph Harun al-Rashid summoned one of his favorite courtiers (Fazl Barmakid). “Take me to a man this night who might reveal myself to me,” he bade him. “My heart has grown weary of pomp and pride.” Fazl brought Harun to several scholars, but they did not meet Harun's expectations. Then Fazl realized what Harun was looking for, so he took him to Fudayl’s door. “Who is it?” Fudayl asked. “The Commander of the Faithful,” Fazl replied. “What business has he with me, and what have I to do with him?” said Fudayl from behind the door. Harun decided to enter anyway, upon which Fudayl extinguished the only lamp in the house, making it pitch dark. Harun felt his way through till his outstretched hand met Fudayl’s hands and Harun said "You cannot escape from me, at last I have found you"
Fudayl replied “How smooth and soft these hands are, if only they could escape from Hell-fire!” Harun was overcome with grief upon hearing it.
“Advise me” he begged. Fudayl spoke. “Your ancestor, the Prophet’s uncle, once asked of the Prophet, ‘Make me commander over some people.’ The Prophet replied, "Command shall be a cause of regret on the Day of Resurrection. It is better if you are able to take command over yourself, even for a moment."
“More,” pleaded Harun.
“When Umar ibn Abd al-Aziz was appointed caliph, he was terrified, and said "I have been afflicted with this trial," Fudayl continued “The lands of Islam are your home, and their inhabitants your family, visit your parents, honor your brethren, and be good to your children. I fear,” he added, “that your handsome face will be severely tried by the fire of Hell. Be conscious of Allah, and obey His command. And be watchful; for on the Day of Resurrection, He will question you concerning every single Muslim, and He will exact justice from you. Even if an old woman goes to bed hungry, she will grab your hem on that Day and will give evidence against you.”
"The throne that you are assigned used to be the seat of a Prophet like Sulayman, and he found God's pleasure while on it, and it also used to be the seat of the Firaun, and you know what happened to him. So the choice is yours."
Harun wept bitterly, as though about to swoon.
“Enough! You will slay the Commander of the Faithful,” chided Fazl the vizier. “Be silent, Haman,” said Fudayl. “It is you and your ilk who are destroying him, and then you tell me that I have killed him?” At these words Harun wept even more profusely. “He calls you Haman,” he said, turning to Fazl, “because he equates me with Firaun.” Then, addressing Fudayl, he asked, “Have you any outstanding debts?” “Yes, a debt of obedience to God. If He takes me to task over this, then woe to me!” said Fudayl. “I am speaking of debts owed to men, Fudayl,” said Harun.
“Praise and gratitude be to God,” said Fudayl, “who has blessed me abundantly, so that I need nothing from any of His servants.” Then Harun placed a purse of a thousand dinars before him. “This is lawful wealth, of my mother’s inheritance,” he said. “Commander of the Faithful,” said Fudayl, “the counsels I have given you, it seems, have yielded no results. Even now you continue with wrongdoing and injustice.”
“What wrongdoing?” said Harun.
“I call you to salvation, and you cast me into temptation. This is wrongdoing indeed,” said Fudayl. “I advised you to give back what you possess to its proper owner. You for your part give it to another to whom it should not be given. It is futile for me to talk further. If you really want to help me, then promise me that you will never darken my doorstep again, for I wish to spend the rest of my life seeking forgiveness for my sins, and not waste it talking to people like you.”
“Ah, what a man he is!” exclaimed Harun, leaving his house. “He is in truth a king of men and the world is very contemptible in his eyes.” Fudayl was known for his sense of urgency. Once he was asked to give a sermon. Addressing both the young and the old, he said: "O group of young men! I have come across many crops that were defective even before they matured! O group of old men! And are crops harvested except after they become ripe? And what are you waiting for? And what excuse do you have to present? What will you say, when the All- Knowing will say:
“Did We not grant you a life long enough so that whoever was willing to take thought could bethink himself? And [withal,] a warner had come unto you! Taste, then, [the fruit of your evil deeds]: for evildoers shall have none to succour them!” - Part of 35:37
Lesson 3:
It is said that when Khwaja Nizamuddin was in Delhi, completing his advanced studies in religion, he wanted to visit Baba Farid and beseech him to be his guide or murshid in the spiritual way. But different thoughts and hesitations would come to his mind and he would decide to postpone it. Then one day, just after midnight, he heard the muezzin recite this verse while preparing for tahajjud. It shook Khwaja, who responded that the time had come and started walking towards Ajodhan (modern day Pakpattan) covering a distance of more than 400 kilometers.
In the Sufi biographical work Akhbār al-Akhyār fī Asrār al-Abrār by ʿAbd al-Ḥaqq Muḥaddith Dehlavī Khwaja Niẓāmuddīn is reported as saying that the first words he heard from the Shaykh were the following Persian verse, recited by the Shaykh as a greeting:
ای آتشِ فِراقَت دلها کباب کرده
سیلابِ اشتیاقت جانها خراب کرده
Ah the fire of Your separation—has roasted hearts (like kebab);
the flood of longing for You has ruined lives.
As a welcome greeting, it’s almost like saying:
“This path is not comfortable.”
“Real longing for Allah will burn and shake you.”
“And if you’ve come with that kind of longing, you’re in the right place.”
Source Note
The repentance stories, reported dreams, and encounters here are drawn from devotional and biographical traditions attributed in the text. They have not all been collated with early editions or authenticated chains. The dialogue is presented as retelling; the reported dream is not an independent source for beliefs about the unseen.
Wa yumdidkum bi am waalinw wa baneena wa yaj’al lakum Jannaatinw wa yaj’al lakum anhaaraa
Nuh 71:10-12. and I said: "Ask your Sustainer to forgive you your sins - for, verily, He is all-forgiving!
He will shower upon you heavenly blessings abundant,
and will aid you with worldly goods and children, and will bestow upon you gardens, and bestow upon you running waters."
Lesson 1:
Al-Qurtubi relates an anecdote about Al-Hasan Al-Basri: someone complained about a drought, and he said to him: "Seek forgiveness from Allah." Someone else complained to him of poverty and he said to him: "Ask Allah to forgive you." Someone else was concerned about gardens going dry, and yet another had no children, and in all of these cases, Hasan gave the same advice: "Ask Allah for forgiveness."
He was asked why he gave the same advice in each case, and he replied: "I do not say this out of my own accord, for does Allah not say in Surah Nuh:" "Ask your Sustainer to forgive you your sins - for, verily, He is all-forgiving! He will shower upon you heavenly blessings abundant, and will aid you with worldly goods and children, and will bestow upon you gardens, and bestow upon you running waters."
Lesson 2:
A widely circulated story tells of Imam Ahmad ibn Hanbal, may Allah be pleased with him, a renowned scholar of Islam and a famous theologian, passing through a remote town. Owing to his humility, he had not introduced himself to anyone. After salah, he wanted to stay overnight at the masjid, but the caretaker as a matter of policy (and also not recognizing who he was) asked him to leave. Imam Ahmed tried to convince him to let him stay, but to no avail, and the caretaker literally dragged the aging imam out. A man who worked as a baker was passing by and witnessed the scene. As any good Muslim should, he offered to host him for the night.
While at the baker's place, the Imam saw him engrossed in his work, mixing and kneading the dough, tending the fire, and pulling loaves from the oven, all the while doing dhikr, especially Istighfar (asking for Allah's forgiveness).
The Imam asked the baker if he had experienced any blessings from this remembrance, and the baker replied: "By Allah! No do'a (supplication) I have ever made has been unanswered, except one." “And what is that do'a?” asked Imam Ahmed.
The baker responded: "To see the renowned Imam Ahmad ibn Hanbal." Upon hearing this, tears welled up in the Imam’s eyes as he disclosed to the baker, "I am Ahmed ibn Hanbal! By Allah! I was dragged to your place so that your do'a would be fulfilled."
Lesson 3:
A modern story, similar to the one about Imam Ahmad and illustrating the power of do'a, is narrated by Mufti Ismail Menk in the following video:
Al-Qurtubi records the al-Hasan al-Basri anecdote in his commentary on 71:10–12, citing Ibn Subayh; he also stresses sincerity and leaving sins. This identifies the textual source without assigning the report a chain grading. The baker story remains a popular devotional account attributed to Imam Ahmad whose early source has not been established here. The linked video is a separate modern narration.
Yu’til Hikmata mai yashaaa’; wa mai yu’tal Hikmata faqad ootiya khairan kaseeraa; wa maa yazzakkaru illaaa ulul albaab
Al-Baqara (The Cow) 2:269: granting wisdom unto whom He wills: and whoever is granted wisdom has indeed been granted wealth abundant. But none bears this in mind save those who are endowed with insight.
Lesson 1:
A teaching tale tells of a Sufi mystic named Hasan who, on his deathbed, was asked about his teacher.
He said, "I had thousands of teachers. Just to relate their names would take months, even years, and we don’t have enough time. But perhaps three of them might be of particular interest to you.
One was a career thief. Once I got lost and wandered into a remote village, quite late at night. Everyone was asleep and everything was closed, but I saw a man trying to make a hole in the wall of a house. I summoned courage to ask him about a place to stay. He replied: 'At this time of night it is rather difficult to find a place, but if you don't mind staying with me, you are more than welcome.'
And the man was wonderful company, and at his insistence I stayed with him for a month! Every night, he would say, 'I am going to work. You be comfortable, rest and pray.' Every night he would come back empty-handed, but would always say, "Tomorrow it will happen, Insha Allah." He never lost hope and was always happy.
When I was striving for years on end in my spiritual struggle, progress was slow. At times I would get desperate, and wanted to give up, when I would remember the thief who would say every night, "Tomorrow it will happen, Insha Allah."
I was once by the banks of a river, and saw a dog struggling to drink water. He is the second teacher that I want to tell you about. Whenever he looked into the river, he saw his own image and was afraid (thinking that there was another dog). His thirst was so great that eventually he overcame his fear and jumped into the water. The image (and the fear) thus disappeared and his thirst was quenched. That taught me that God wants us to jump despite our fears. Only then will our longing be satisfied.
And the third teacher was a kid whom I saw walking to the masjid with a lit candle in his hands, to place it inside.
I thought of having some fun, and asked 'Have you lit the candle yourself?' He said, 'Yes sir.' And I asked, 'There was a moment when the candle was unlit, then there was a moment when the candle was lit. Can you show me the source from which the light came?'
And the boy laughed, blew out the candle, and said, 'Now you have seen the light going. Where has it gone? You tell me!'
That shook me, and made me realize that I was being arrogant, and worse, being arrogant about something that I had no knowledge of. The child with his simple reply had put me in my place.
Thus I learnt from everyone that I encountered, and each of them was like a pond or a pool where you can learn how to swim. And then you are able to swim in all the oceans of the world."
Lesson 2:
I had come across the story of how Islam was revived in Moghulistan, in several sources, most notably in Tarikh-i-Rashidi (تاریخ رشیدی) of Mirza Muhammad Haidar Dughlat, who is buried in Gorstan e Shahi in Srinagar. There were several variants, which I have sought to reconcile in the following narrative.
The story revolves around the encounter of Shaykh Jamal Al-Din and his son Arshad al Din of the town of Lop-Katak with Tughlugh Timur (also known as Tughluq Tömür or Tughluk Timur).
According to the chronicle, Tughlugh was eighteen when he met the Shaykh. He had organized a hunting party and ordered everyone to attend. The Shaykh and his companions, unaware of the order, were seized for not joining the hunt and brought before him. He asked them, “Why have you disobeyed my commands?” The Shaykh replied, “We are strangers, who have fled from the ruined town of Katak. We know nothing about the hunt nor the ordinances of the hunt, and therefore we have not transgressed your orders.”
Still angry with them, he asked a question which was quite offensive: “Are you better than this dog, or is the dog better than you?”
The Shaykh's calm and composed answer really affected me, as I realized wisdom from Allah has no equal in all the bookish knowledge of the world:
The Shaykh replied, in substance, that faith would make him better than the dog, but without faith the dog would be better than him.
This made Tughlugh quiet, and thoughtful. He further asked the Shaykh, “What is this thing that renders man, if he possesses it, better than a dog, or without it, worse?”
Shaykh Jamal Al-Din explained to him what Faith was, in detail, and the duties of a Muslim, while Tughlugh wept. After listening to his heart's content, Tughlugh said that he could not do anything now, but “If I ever become Khan, and obtain absolute authority, you must, without fail, come to me, and I promise you I will become a Muslim.”
He then sent the Shaykh away with the utmost respect and reverence.
Soon afterwards, as the time of his death was approaching, Shaykh Jamal advised his son Arshad al-Din, an exceedingly pious young man, to follow up on this promise because he had once dreamt that Arshad al-Din had carried a lamp up to the top of a hill, and that its light illumined the whole of the east.
Soon after the Shaykh’s death, when news of Tughlugh Timur becoming Khan reached Shaykh Arshad al-Din, he proceeded to Moghulistan, but all his efforts to obtain an audience with the Khan were fruitless. He was a simple young man, who looked like a nobody. However, he encamped nearby and prayed to God regularly. By chance the Khan was awake one early morning, and heard the call for prayer in the wee-hours and asked his soldiers to summon the noise-maker. The soldiers seized him by the neck and dragged him before the Khan.
“Who are you that is disturbing my morning sleep?” thundered the Khan.
Fearlessly, Shaykh Arshad replied, “I am the son of the man to whom you made the promise to become a Muslim.” The Khan remembered his promise and became Muslim, and it is said that many of those who were already Muslim revealed their faith. The account gives the number of new converts as 160,000.
A faith whose adherents had been considered worse than dogs became the state religion and the Khans helped spread it far and wide. The story invites us to reflect on the wisdom granted by Allah to Shaykh Jamal in answering the question: “Are you better than this dog, or is the dog better than you?”
Source Note
The Hasan episode is a teaching tale with no early source established here; its dialogue is a retelling. For the second lesson, see Tarikh-i-Rashidi, part I, chapters I and III, especially pp. 10–15. The hunt, chronology, and faith comparison have been corrected against that account. The figure of 160,000 is the chronicle’s claim, not an independently verified total. The same chapter also recounts coercion and a legendary contest, so the wider conversion narrative cannot be reduced to this conversation alone.
wa ‘asaaa an takrahoo shai’anw wa huwa khairullakum wa ‘asaaa an tuhibbo shai’anw wa huwa sharrullakum; wallaahu ya’lamu wa antum laa ta’lamoon
Part of Al-Baqara (The Cow) 2:216, It may well be that you hate a thing the while it is good for you, and it may well be that you love a thing the while it is bad for you: and Allah knows, whereas you do not know.
There are old tales from different lands that seem to point to the same truth: sometimes as humans, we see only the surface of events, while the wisdom behind them often remains hidden until much later.
The Chinese Farmer (a traditional teaching tale)
One old tale tells of a farmer who lived near the borderlands of China. He was a simple man, but he possessed a quiet kind of wisdom.
He had only one mare, and one day it ran away.
The neighbors came to console him. They said, “What a terrible loss.”
The farmer replied, “Who knows the wisdom behind it?”
The people were puzzled. To them, the matter seemed obvious. What wisdom could there be in losing one’s only horse?
But a month later, the mare returned, and with her came a number of fine wild stallions.
Now the same neighbors came again, this time offering congratulations. “What good fortune!” they said.
The farmer replied once more, “Who knows the wisdom behind it?”
A few days later, his son tried to tame one of those stallions. The horse threw him to the ground, and he broke his leg.
Again the neighbors gathered. Again they pitied the farmer and his son.
And again the farmer said, “Who knows the wisdom behind it?”
Then not long after, war broke out in the surrounding regions, and the Emperor summoned every able-bodied young man to join the battle. All the youth of the village were taken away, except the farmer’s son, whose broken leg kept him at home.
And what do you think the farmer would say then?
He would say what he had been saying from the beginning:
“Who knows the wisdom behind it?”
The Optimist Friend (a teaching tale)
Another tale tells of a king who had a close friend, a man who would say, “Alhamdulillah, it is for the best,” no matter what happened.
Whether the day brought gain or loss, ease or hardship, those were always his words. Many people found it amusing. Others thought it foolish. But the friend never stopped saying it.
One day the king and his friend went on a hunting expedition. During the hunt, the weapon in the king’s hand misfired and blew off his thumb.
Before anyone else could speak, the friend said, “Alhamdulillah, it is for the best.”
The king was furious. He felt hurt and insulted. In anger, he ordered that his friend be sent back under guard and thrown into prison.
The friend did not protest. He simply went.
The king remained behind in camp, planning to return later. But that night, a tribe of cannibals attacked under cover of darkness and seized him. They carried him deep into the forest and prepared to offer him as a royal sacrifice before making a meal of him.
A fire was lit. The king was bound. The ritual was about to begin.
But as their priest came near, he noticed that the king was missing a thumb. He was not whole. He was imperfect. And for that reason, he was deemed unfit to be offered in sacrifice.
So they untied him and let him go.
On the long road back, the king had plenty of time to think. When he returned, he went at once to the prison and ordered his friend released.
He embraced him and said, “You were right. That accident was for the best. Had I not lost my thumb, I would have been killed.”
Then he lowered his head and said, “But I wronged you. I had you imprisoned, and that was not for the best.”
The friend smiled and said, “No, my king. That too was for the best.”
The king was astonished. “How could my imprisoning you possibly be good?”
The friend replied, “If you had not imprisoned me, I would have been with you. And since I am whole, they would have sacrificed me instead.”
Two stories. Different lands. But nearly the same wisdom.
One man said, “Who knows the wisdom behind it?”
The other said, “Alhamdulillah, it is for the best.”
In truth, they were both pointing to the same reality.
We are always in a hurry to judge events. We call one thing a disaster and another a blessing almost as soon as it happens. But how little we actually see.
The runaway mare looked like a loss. Then it looked like fortune. Then that fortune looked like misfortune. Then that misfortune became protection.
The missing thumb looked like an injury. The prison looked like an injustice. Yet one saved the king, and the other saved the friend.
How many things in our own lives have followed the same pattern?
A door closed, and later we thanked Allah that it did.
A plan failed, and only afterward did we understand what we had been spared.
A hardship came, and hidden inside it was a mercy we could not see at first.
This is one of the deep lessons of life: not everything can be judged in the moment it happens.
Sometimes what hurts us is protecting us.
Sometimes what pleases us is harming us.
And sometimes the only wisdom available to us in the moment is to stop insisting that we understand everything.
To say, with humility: Allah knows, and I do not.
Can we wait before calling something purely good or purely bad?
Can we trust that the story may not be over yet?
And when life takes something from us, can we still believe that perhaps, behind that loss, there may be a mercy not yet uncovered?
