I wasn’t a noble or companion, just a young stable boy in the desert city of Tabuk, where the Roman and Arab worlds met like sea and shore. You won’t find my name in any surah or hadith, but I will never forget the day I saw a letter leave, bound for the Emperor of Rome himself.
I was brushing one of our camels when a rider approached. His camel was strong and dusty from travel. The man who handed him the scroll wore simple clothing but carried himself with such calm. He said few words, but the others around me whispered, “It’s a message from the Prophet of Allah ﷺ to Heraclius, the mighty Roman emperor.”
Heraclius was ruler of the Byzantine Empire, known for wealth, knowledge, and might. But now this man — our Prophet Muhammad ﷺ — had sent him a letter calling him to Islam. “From Muhammad, the servant and Messenger of Allah, to Heraclius, ruler of Rome…” I overheard a traveler reciting the opening of the message as if it were light.
As days passed, I couldn’t stop thinking about that letter. What kind of man dares write to an emperor? What kind of emperor reads a letter from a man of the desert?
Later, I met someone who had been in Heraclius’ court. He was an old merchant, taking shade under the same tree where I gave water to my goats.
“You were there?” I asked him, wide-eyed.
He nodded. “I saw the emperor open the scroll. He read it aloud before his guards and priests. ‘Accept Islam and you will be safe,’ it said, ‘and Allah will reward you twice.’” The merchant’s eyes glowed with the memory.
“What did the emperor do?” I asked.
“He questioned the Arabs who lived in his land,” said the merchant. “He asked them about Muhammad — was he honest, was he noble, were his followers loyal? The answers shook him.”
“Did he believe?” I whispered.
The old man sighed. “His heart leaned toward the truth. He said, ‘This is the Prophet of the end times.’ But his pride, his people—they were not ready. He returned the letter with gifts instead of his obedience.”
My heart ached for this. How hard it must be to choose truth when it challenges all you’ve ever ruled.
Later that evening, while leading my goats to graze, I saw one step into a thorn bush. The smallest goat limped and cried. I remembered a hadith I once heard from a traveler: that the Prophet ﷺ said a woman entered Hell for being cruel to a cat, and another entered Paradise for giving water to a thirsty dog.
So I carried the goat gently, pulling the thorns from its leg. That night, I prayed to Allah. I wasn’t a king like Heraclius, but I had choices just the same. Kindness, truth, faith — these things matter to Allah.
The emperor received a letter, but we all do, in our own way. The message is always the same: obey Allah, be kind, and know that truth is worth more than any throne.
Story Note: Inspired by hadith and seerah traditions, including Sahih Bukhari (Hadith 2363) on kindness to animals, and the historical account of the Prophet’s ﷺ letter to Heraclius as narrated in Sahih Bukhari and other seerah sources.
I wasn’t a noble or companion, just a young stable boy in the desert city of Tabuk, where the Roman and Arab worlds met like sea and shore. You won’t find my name in any surah or hadith, but I will never forget the day I saw a letter leave, bound for the Emperor of Rome himself.
I was brushing one of our camels when a rider approached. His camel was strong and dusty from travel. The man who handed him the scroll wore simple clothing but carried himself with such calm. He said few words, but the others around me whispered, “It’s a message from the Prophet of Allah ﷺ to Heraclius, the mighty Roman emperor.”
Heraclius was ruler of the Byzantine Empire, known for wealth, knowledge, and might. But now this man — our Prophet Muhammad ﷺ — had sent him a letter calling him to Islam. “From Muhammad, the servant and Messenger of Allah, to Heraclius, ruler of Rome…” I overheard a traveler reciting the opening of the message as if it were light.
As days passed, I couldn’t stop thinking about that letter. What kind of man dares write to an emperor? What kind of emperor reads a letter from a man of the desert?
Later, I met someone who had been in Heraclius’ court. He was an old merchant, taking shade under the same tree where I gave water to my goats.
“You were there?” I asked him, wide-eyed.
He nodded. “I saw the emperor open the scroll. He read it aloud before his guards and priests. ‘Accept Islam and you will be safe,’ it said, ‘and Allah will reward you twice.’” The merchant’s eyes glowed with the memory.
“What did the emperor do?” I asked.
“He questioned the Arabs who lived in his land,” said the merchant. “He asked them about Muhammad — was he honest, was he noble, were his followers loyal? The answers shook him.”
“Did he believe?” I whispered.
The old man sighed. “His heart leaned toward the truth. He said, ‘This is the Prophet of the end times.’ But his pride, his people—they were not ready. He returned the letter with gifts instead of his obedience.”
My heart ached for this. How hard it must be to choose truth when it challenges all you’ve ever ruled.
Later that evening, while leading my goats to graze, I saw one step into a thorn bush. The smallest goat limped and cried. I remembered a hadith I once heard from a traveler: that the Prophet ﷺ said a woman entered Hell for being cruel to a cat, and another entered Paradise for giving water to a thirsty dog.
So I carried the goat gently, pulling the thorns from its leg. That night, I prayed to Allah. I wasn’t a king like Heraclius, but I had choices just the same. Kindness, truth, faith — these things matter to Allah.
The emperor received a letter, but we all do, in our own way. The message is always the same: obey Allah, be kind, and know that truth is worth more than any throne.
Story Note: Inspired by hadith and seerah traditions, including Sahih Bukhari (Hadith 2363) on kindness to animals, and the historical account of the Prophet’s ﷺ letter to Heraclius as narrated in Sahih Bukhari and other seerah sources.
