Dawah (Inviting to the way of submission and surrender to Allah)
Every Friday afternoon, after the Jummah service at the Central Mosque, the Imam and his eleven year old son would go out into their town and hand out "Path to Paradise" and other Islamic literature.
This particular and fortunate Friday afternoon, as the time came for the Imam and his eleven year old son to go to the streets with their booklets, it was very cold outside, as well as pouring rain.
The boy bundled up in his warmest and driest clothes and said, 'OK, dad, I am ready!' His 'Al Mualim' dad asked, 'Ready for what?'
'Dad, it's time we gather our tracts together and go out.' Dad responds, 'Son, it's very cold outside and it's also pouring rain.'
The boy gives his dad a surprised look, asking, 'But Dad, are not people still going to hell, even though it's raining?' Dad answers, 'Son, I am not going out in this weather.'
Despondently, the boy asks, 'Dad, can I go? Please?' His father hesitated for a moment then said, 'Son, you can go. Here are the booklets. Be careful son.' 'Thanks, Dad!'
And with that, he was off and out into the rain. This eleven year old boy walked the streets of the town going door to door and handing everybody he met in the street a pamphlet or a booklet.
After two hours of walking in the rain, he was soaking, bone chilled wet and down to his very last booklet. He stopped on a corner and looked for someone to hand a booklet to, but the streets were totally deserted.
Then he turned toward the first home he saw and started up the sidewalk to the front door and rang the door bell. He rang the bell, but nobody answered. He rang it again and again, but still no one answered. He waited but still no answer.
Finally, this eleven year old Dawah (Inviting to the way of submission and surrender to Allah) expert turned to leave, but something stopped him. Again, he turned to the door and rang the bell and knocked loudly on the door with his fist. He waited, something holding him there on the front porch!
He rang again and this time the door slowly opened. Standing in the doorway was a very sad looking elderly lady. She softly asked, 'What can I do for you, son?'
With radiant eyes and a smile that lit up her world, this little boy said, "Ma'am, I am sorry if I disturbed you, but I just want to tell you that 'Allah really loves and cares for you' and I came to give you my very last booklet which will tell you all about God, the real purpose of creation, and how to achieve His pleasure."
With that, he handed her his last booklet and turned to leave. She called to him as he departed. 'Thank you, son! And God Bless You!'
Well, the following Friday afternoon after Jummah service the Imam was giving some lectures. As he concludes the lectures, he asked, 'Does anybody have questions or want to say anything?'
Slowly, in the back row among the ladies, an elderly voice was heard over the speaker. As the voice went on, a hint of glorious gaiety and contentment was plainly evident in it even though she was not to be seen, "No one in this gathering knows me. I have never been here before. You see, before last Friday I was not a Muslim. My husband passed on some time ago, leaving me totally alone in this world. Last Friday, being a particularly cold and rainy day, it was even more so in my heart that I came to the end of the line where I no longer had any hope or will to live.
So I took a rope and a chair and ascended the stairway into the attic of my home. I fastened the rope securely to a rafter in the roof then stood on the chair and fastened the other end of the rope around my neck. Standing on that chair, so lonely and brokenhearted I was about to leap off, when suddenly the loud ringing of my doorbell downstairs startled me. I thought, I will wait a minute and whoever it is will go away.
I waited and waited, but the ringing doorbell seemed to get louder and more insistent and then the person ringing also started knocking loudly. I thought to myself again, 'Who on earth could this be? Nobody ever rings my bell or comes to see me.' I loosened the rope from my neck and started for the front door, all the while the bell rang louder and louder.
When I opened the door and looked I could hardly believe my eyes, for there on my front porch was the most radiant and angelic little boy I had ever seen in my life. His smile, oh, I could never describe it to you! The words that came from his mouth caused my heart that had long been dead to leap to life as he exclaimed with a cherub like voice, 'Ma'am, I just came to tell you that Allah really loves and cares for you!' Then he gave me this booklet, 'Path to Paradise' that I now hold in my hand.
As the little angel disappeared back out into the cold and rain, I closed my door and read slowly every word of this book. Then I went up to my attic to get my rope and chair. I would not be needing them any more.
You see, I am now a happy vicegerent of the One True God. Since the address of your congregation was stamped on the back of this booklet, I have come here to personally say Thank You to God's little angel who came just in the nick of time and by so doing, spared my soul from an eternity in hell.
There was not a dry eye in the mosque. And as shouts of Takbir! Allahu Akbar (God is the greatest)! rented the air, even among the ladies.
The Imam (dad) descended from the pulpit to the front row where the little angel was seated. He took his son in his arms and sobbed uncontrollably.
Probably no Jamaat (Assembly) has had a more glorious moment and probably this universe has never seen a Papa that was more filled with love and honor for his son, except for one, this very one.
You are the best community evolved for mankind; you enjoin the right conduct and forbid indecency and you believe in Allah. Noble Qur'an (3:110)
Invite to the way of your Lord with wisdom and beautiful preaching and argue with them in ways that are best and most gracious. Noble Qur'an (16:125)
