A Boy names Yusuf: Islamic Blog 6

 Salam Todays a story I watched on Adams World! :D The Childhood sesame street for Kids. Now I was watching this with my little brother just to let you know, But i did like this story. A story about a man named Yusuf. Hopefully this will teach you all to become kinder and accept hwo important your parents truly are to your or who ever took care of you. Inshallah enjoy!

 A long time ago , In a little Village in a small shack, A Boy was born his name was Yusuf. Now Yusuf father had passed away so his mother had tooken care of him. When Yusuf was old enough His mother saved all her money to send him to A good school.

When Yusuf Started  school , He was the best student there He loved to learn and was very intelligent. One day Yusuf came home early. His mother asked ” Yusuf why are you home early? are you okay?”. Yusuf took a long tiem to ansewer and said to his Mother ” Mama My teachers in my school told me that in order for me to learn more about Islam that I must Go into the world, But if I leave then who will take care of you”

His Mother smiled and said ” Alhumdillah Allah has given me such a great son! You have my permission you may leave home to go learn and may allah guide you inshallah”

When a couple years passed, Yusuf had left home. Yusuf had went to all the best schools all over the world and became a well-renowed teacher with strong islamic knowledge everyone who came to him thought he was the most amazing teacher. However has time passed Yusuf was still sad, he missed his mother and one day decided he was going to vist her. So he wrote her letter telling her that he was coming home.

When Yusuf return home , he thought that the home he grew up in seemed so much smaller and older. Yusuf knocked on the door and waited a long time. Then a Fragile , old women came out and said ” yes, who is there?” Yusuf had begun to cry, Yusuf mom had gone Blind! Yusuf said : ” Mama how come you never told me you went blind?! how can you hide somthing like this from me !?” Yusufs Mother said: Well I knew if I told you then you would never continue your studies and I wanted you to serve Allah not me. So yusuf had decided he will stay with his mother and take care of her, Tending to her every need. When Yusufs Mom had passed away.No matter where he went he would often be heard saying ” I have travled far and wide, study in the best University. But the most improtant Teacher I will ever have is My Mother ”

Alhumdillah I hope you have all enjoyed reading This story and Please respect your parents and Gurdians No matter what because just like you need them they will need you one day inshallah.

                                                                                                Masalam! :)

A Man Names Rasheed ! Beautiful Story

Simply Amazing story Brought me to Utter Tears SubhanAllah 

A Man Named Rashed
This is a true story about a man named Rashed. He tells his story as follows…

I was not more than thirty years old when my wife gave birth to my first child. I still remember that night.

I had stayed out all night long with my friends, as was my habit. It was a night filled with useless talk, and worse, with backbitin

g, gossiping, and making fun of people. I was mostly the one who made people laugh; I would mock others and my friends would laugh and laugh. I remember on that night that I’d made them laugh a lot. I had an amazing ability to imitate others – I could change the sound of my voice until I sounded exactly like the person I was mocking. No one was safe from my biting mockery, even my friends; some people started avoiding me just to be safe from my tongue. I remember on that night, I had made fun of a blind man who I’d seen begging in the market. What was worse, I had put my foot out in front him – he tripped and fell, and started turning his head around, not knowing what to say.

I went back to my house, late as usual, and I found my wife waiting for me. She was in a terrible state, and said in a quivering voice, “Rashed… where were you?”

“Where would I be, on Mars?” I said sarcastically, “With my friends of course.”

She was visibly exhausted, and holding back tears, she said, “Rashed, I’m so tired. It seems the baby is going to come soon.” A silent tear fell on her cheek.

I felt that I had neglected my wife. I should have taken care of her and not stayed out so much all those nights… especially since she was in her ninth month. I quickly took her to the hospital; she went into the delivery room, and suffered through long hours of pain.

I waited patiently for her to give birth… but her delivery was difficult, and I waited a long time until I got tired. So I went home and left my phone number with the hospital so they could call with the good news. An hour later, they called me to congratulate me on the birth of Salem. I went to the hospital immediately. As soon as they saw me, they asked me to go see the doctor who had overlooked my wife’s delivery.
“What doctor?” I cried out, “I just want to see my son Salem!”

“First go see the doctor,” they said.

I went to the doctor, and she started talking to me about trials, and about being satisfied with Allah’s decree. Then she said, “Your son has a serious deformity in his eyes, and it seems that he has no vision.” I lowered my head while I fought back tears… I remembered that blind man begging in the market who I’d tripped and made others laugh at.

Subhan Allah, you get what you give! I stayed brooding quietly for a while… I didn’t know what to say. Then I remembered by wife and son. I thanked the doctor for her kindness, and went to go see my wife. My wife wasn’t sad. She believed in the decree of Allah… she was content… How often had she advised me to stop mocking people! “Don’t backbite people,” she always used to repeat… We left the hospital, and Salem came with us.

In reality, I didn’t pay much attention to him. I pretended that he wasn’t in the house with us. When he started crying loudly, I’d escape to the living room to sleep there. My wife took good care of him, and loved him a lot. As for myself, I didn’t hate him, but I couldn’t love him either.

Salem grew. He started to crawl, and had a strange way of crawling. When he was almost one year old, he started trying to walk, and we discovered that he was crippled. I felt like he was an even greater burden on me. After him, my wife gave birth to Umar and Khaled. The years passed, and Salem grew, and his brothers grew. I never liked to sit at home, I was always out with my friends… in reality, I was like a plaything at their disposal [entertaining them whenever they wanted].

My wife never gave up on my reform. She always made du’aa for my guidance. She never got angry with my reckless behavior, but she would get really sad if she saw me neglecting Salem and paying attention to the rest of his brothers. Salem grew, and my worries grew with him. I didn’t mind when my wife asked to enroll him in a special school for the handicapped.

I didn’t really feel the passing of the years. My days were all the same. Work and sleep and food and staying out with friends. One Friday, I woke up at 11 am. This was early for me. I was invited to a gathering, so I got dressed and perfumed, and was about to go out. I passed by our living room, and was startled by the sight of Salem – he was sobbing! This was the first time I had noticed Salem crying since he was a baby. Ten years had passed, and I hadn’t paid attention to him. I tried to ignore him now, but I couldn’t take it… I heard him calling out to his mother while I was in the room. I turned towards him, and went closer. “Salem! Why are you crying?” I asked.

When he heard my voice, he stopped crying. Then when he realized how close I was, he started feeling around him with his small hands. What was wrong with him? I discovered that he was trying to move away from me! It was as if he was saying, “Now, you’ve decided to notice me? Where have you been for the last ten years?” I followed him… he had gone into his room. At first, he refused to tell me why he’d been crying. I tried to be gentle with him… Salem started to tell me why he’d been crying, while I listened and trembled.

Do you know what the reason was?! His brother Umar, the one who used to take him to the masjid, was late. And because it was Jumu’ah prayer, Salem was afraid he wouldn’t find a place in the first row. He called out to Umar… and he called out to his mother… but nobody answered, so he cried. I sat there looking at the tears flowing from his blind eyes. I couldn’t bear the rest of his words. I put my hand over his mouth and said, “Is this why you were crying, Salem!”

“Yes,” he said.

I forgot about my friends, I forgot about the gathering, and I said, “Don’t be sad, Salem. Do you know who’s going to take you to the masjid today?”

“Umar, of course,” he said, “… but he’s always late.”

“No,” I said, “I’m going to take you.”

Salem was shocked… he couldn’t believe it. He thought I was mocking him. His tears came and he started crying. I wiped his tears with my hand and then took hold of his hand. I wanted to take him to the masjid by car. He refused and said, “The masjid is near… I want to walk there.” Yes, by Allah, he said this to me.

I couldn’t remember when the last time I had entered the masjid was, but it was the first time I felt fear and regret for what I’d neglected in the long years that had passed. The masjid was filled with worshippers, but I still found a place for Salem in the first row. We listened to the Jumu’ah khutbah together, and he prayed next to me. But really, I was the one praying next to him.

After the prayer, Salem asked me for a musHaf. I was surprised! How was he going to read when he was blind? I almost ignored his request, but I decided to humor him out of fear of hurting his feelings. I passed him a musHaf. He asked me to open the musHaf to Surat al-Kahf. I started flipping through the pages and looking through the index until I found it. He took the musHaf from me, put it in front of him, and started reading the Surah… with his eyes closed… ya Allah! He had the whole Surah memorized.

I was ashamed of myself. I picked up a musHaf… I felt my limbs tremble… I read and I read. I asked Allah to forgive me and to guide me. I couldn’t take it… I started crying like a child. There were still some people in the masjid praying sunnah… I was embarrassed by their presence, so I tried to hold my tears. My crying turned into whimpering and long, sobbing breaths. The only thing I felt was a small hand reaching out to my face, and then wiping the tears away. It was Salem! I pulled him to my chest… I looked at him. I said to myself… you’re not the blind one, but I am, for having drifted after immoral people who were pulling me to hellfire. We went back home. My wife was extremely worried about Salem, but her worry turned into tears [of joy] when she found out I had prayed Jumu’ah with Salem.

From that day on, I never missed the congregational prayer in the masjid. I left my bad friends… and I made righteous friends among people I met at the masjid. I tasted the sweetness of iman with them. I learned things from them that distracted me from this world. I never missed out on gatherings of remembrance [halaqas], or on the witr prayer. I recited the entire Qur’an, several times, in one month. I moistened my tongue with the remembrance of Allah, that He might forgive my backbiting and mocking of the people. I felt closer to my family. The looks of fear and pity that had occupied my wife’s eyes disappeared. A smile now never parted from the face of my son Salem. Anyone who saw him would have felt that he owned the world and everything in it. I praised and thanked Allah a lot for His blessings.

One day, my righteous friends decided to go to a far away location for da’wah. I hesitated about going. I prayed istikharah, and consulted with my wife. I thought she would refuse… but the opposite happened! She was extremely happy, and even encouraged me… because in the past, she had seen me traveling without consulting her, for the purpose of sin and evil. I went to Salem, and told him I would be traveling. With tears, he wrapped me up in his small arms…

I was away from home for three and a half months. In that period, whenever I got a chance, I called my wife and talked to my children. I missed them so much… and oh, how I missed Salem! I wanted to hear his voice… he was the only one who hadn’t talked to me since I’d traveled. He was either at school or at the masjid whenever I called them.
Whenever I would tell my wife how much I missed him, she would laugh happily, joyfully, except for the last time I called her. I didn’t hear her expected laugh. Her voice changed. I said to her, “Give my salam to Salem,” and she said, “Insha’Allah,” and was quiet.

At last, I went back home. I knocked on the door. I hoped that it was Salem who would open up for me, but was surprised to find my son Khaled, who was not more than four years old. I picked him up in my arms while he squealed, “Baba! Baba!” I don’t know why my heart tensed when I entered the house.

I sought refuge in Allah from the accursed shaytan… I approached my wife… her face was different. As if she was pretending to be happy. I inspected her closely then said, “What’s wrong with you?” “Nothing,” she said. Suddenly, I remembered Salem. “Where’s Salem?” I asked. She lowered her head. She didn’t answer. Hot tears fell on her cheeks.

“Salem! Where’s Salem?” I cried out.

At that moment, I only heard the sound of my son Khaled talking in his own way, saying, “Baba… Thalem went to pawadise… with Allah…”

My wife couldn’t take it. She broke down crying. She almost fell to the floor, and left the room. Later, I found out that Salem had contracted a fever two weeks before I’d returned, so my wife took him to the hospital… the fever got more and more severe, and didn’t leave him… until his soul left his body…

And if this earth closes in on you in spite of its vastness, and your soul closes is on you because of what it’s carrying… call out, “Oh Allah!” If solutions run out, and paths are constricted, and ropes are cut off, and your hopes are no more… call out, “Oh Allah.” Allah wished to guide Salem’s father on the hands of Salem, before Salem’s death. How merciful is Allah!
When asked ,''What does this project mean to you,Personally?'' to both Mona Salem and Malika Rushdan they both gave respectful and heartfelt answers
Malika: WaSalaam
Me personally, hmmmm
Well considering the significance of the property, it is very dear to me, since it was Malcolm X's autobiography which lead me to Islam
I really want to carry his legacy into the programming of the Amal Women's Center
Amal = Hope
It is such a blessing to be a part of someone's growth and watch the changes individuals make in their lives - it is a blessing
A blessing to know that you touched someone's life, if even in a small way
My hope is that the center will be a meeting place for all women, to come together and support one another InshaAllah
I don't think we have enough of this for women in our community, where they can come and not be judged
where they can find support for the challenges they face without being judged
also, I want to be able to celebrate our unique womanhood as Muslim women and the beautiful diversity among us
so international cooking, ethnic arts and crafts, drumming, calligraphy classes, sewing, etc
really feeding the whole body, mind and soul
this is how you make a person whole, not religious classes alone, women need to explore thier passions more and feel that it is ok to devout themselves to more than just their families or husbands.
Mona: First, I would like to speak on behalf of our Boston Muslim community. It should mean a lot to us as a group because it displays to anyone within our community or even for outsiders, that we have the proper assistance for those in need. In other religious societies, whether it would be the Jewish, Christian, or Catholic community, each and every one of them has programs for their people in need to receive. As Muslims, we should have something comparable and even more extensive considering the fact that Quran and Hadith really emphasizes on community service and charity. I think there are questions that each and every one of us should ask ourselves. If I was a single woman that came out of an abusive relationship, with a newborn baby, barely knowing how to speak English, where do I go? What does one expect from their community? These questions are difficult to answer considering that anyone who is reading this is well off in their life. We have to really reflect upon these true hardships and answer these questions between ourselves. Then it becomes personal. So back to answering your question, I will answer it by saying, if I were a single mother and didn’t have anywhere to go, I would want my community to take me with open arms and help me with my situation, strengthen my weaknesses, help me back on my feet, and give me hope.
I want to end my response by saying that we often think that we are serving the needy, when in fact; we are serving ourselves by serving them. Allah has given us so many blessings in this life, and can easily take them away from us. He is the provider and sustainer. So it important that one is thankful and does their best in giving a small portion of what Allah has given him/her. With this in mind, we can do much as a community. And when the shelter home is up and running insha Allah, all of our personal worries will be solved.
My Point of View
I don’t understand why people Genralize a whole Religion or Country simply because fo What a Few people or goverment are doing, These Burma Muslim killing are a Bit over the top in my View. How are we sure Buddist are doing this? People have always used religion as an excuse, Its like Israel how do we know Israel is killing all Palestines, Why do I have to hate them just because of there Gov’t’s action? How do we know there aren’t Israels Helping Palestines Out there or Buddist speaking up for Burma Muslims? Think back in History When African Americans  use to be slaves there where Few white folks who helped the salves to Freedom! Im not agreeing to what Israel does or what the Buddist are doing Nor am I going againist my Faith, buts lets be Ratinal and Stop hating there has to be a way to get our point across without using disturbing Images or Slandering others..Agree or not thats how I feel and Im sticking with it!
When you question Allahs mercy remind yourself of the story of Habil (Abel) and Qabil (Cain) the two sons of the prophet Adam a.s, because in that story after Habil had murdered Qabil and he did not know what to do with his brothers body Allah swt had sent two crows one that was dead and another that was alive the living crow buried the other crow ,this was Allahs way of teaching him what to with the body , see even if we commit the worst of sins Allah will still help us if we ask, Allahs mercy and kindness are immeasurable -hallima ibrahim
Morsi wins!




My Boo<3


The beauty if the Arabic language is that the the emotions are built into the words and the grammar
Sheikh AbdulBary Yahya (said at the Al-Maghrib seminar: Beautiful Patience Tafseer Surat Yusuf)

Women in Islam


Women in Islam