I had just finished serving dates at the meal when I saw his smile. Soft, kind, the kind that makes your heart feel light. You won’t find my name in any hadith, but I was there — just a boy in Medina, helping in the house where the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ visited that day.
He was the messenger of Allah — the final Prophet, sent to guide us with the Qur’an, the holy book. Everyone saw him as the chosen one, beloved by Allah. But what stayed with me most wasn’t just the way he prayed, or even how he led battles. It was the way he made us laugh.
That day, we were sitting under the shade of a palm tree with several companions — people who believed in him and followed him. One of them, an older man with a serious face, made a small mistake in speech. He said something about camels flying — I can’t remember the exact words now, but it didn’t make sense. We all stayed quiet, not sure if we should laugh. Then the Prophet ﷺ chuckled gently.
He didn’t scold the man. He asked, “Since when do camels grow wings?” His eyes twinkled when he said it.
We all laughed, even the man who had spoken. He laughed the loudest. And in that moment, I felt something shift in me.
I had been afraid before — not of the Prophet ﷺ, never of him, but of making a mistake in front of him. My hands would shake when I brought him water or dates. I thought such a perfect person would always be serious. But he wasn’t. Not always. The Prophet ﷺ knew when someone needed comfort, and sometimes that comfort came in the form of a simple joke.
One of my favorite memories was when a man came asking for a camel to ride. The Prophet ﷺ said, “I will give you the baby of a she-camel.” The man looked confused, until the Prophet ﷺ smiled and said, “Isn’t every camel the baby of a she-camel?” We all roared with laughter.
That’s how he was — never laughing to mock others, but always ready to bring ease to a heavy heart.
Later that week, I saw a little boy clinging to the Prophet’s ﷺ robe. The boy was crying because he had lost a small bird. The Prophet ﷺ sat with him, asking, “What happened to your birdy?” There were tears in the boy’s eyes, but by the end of their talk, he was giggling. That was the kindness of the Messenger of Allah ﷺ. Even in his mission, his humor was gentleness.
Now I’m older. I try to smile more. I try to notice when people are hurting — even if they’re laughing, too. Because that’s what I learned from the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ: it’s not just about telling the truth. It’s also about how you carry that truth — with compassion, with mercy, and sometimes, with a little laughter.
Story note: Inspired by multiple authentic hadith describing moments of gentle humor and warmth in the seerah — the life story of Prophet Muhammad ﷺ — collected in books such as Sahih al-Bukhari and narrated by his companions.
I had just finished serving dates at the meal when I saw his smile. Soft, kind, the kind that makes your heart feel light. You won’t find my name in any hadith, but I was there — just a boy in Medina, helping in the house where the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ visited that day.
He was the messenger of Allah — the final Prophet, sent to guide us with the Qur’an, the holy book. Everyone saw him as the chosen one, beloved by Allah. But what stayed with me most wasn’t just the way he prayed, or even how he led battles. It was the way he made us laugh.
That day, we were sitting under the shade of a palm tree with several companions — people who believed in him and followed him. One of them, an older man with a serious face, made a small mistake in speech. He said something about camels flying — I can’t remember the exact words now, but it didn’t make sense. We all stayed quiet, not sure if we should laugh. Then the Prophet ﷺ chuckled gently.
He didn’t scold the man. He asked, “Since when do camels grow wings?” His eyes twinkled when he said it.
We all laughed, even the man who had spoken. He laughed the loudest. And in that moment, I felt something shift in me.
I had been afraid before — not of the Prophet ﷺ, never of him, but of making a mistake in front of him. My hands would shake when I brought him water or dates. I thought such a perfect person would always be serious. But he wasn’t. Not always. The Prophet ﷺ knew when someone needed comfort, and sometimes that comfort came in the form of a simple joke.
One of my favorite memories was when a man came asking for a camel to ride. The Prophet ﷺ said, “I will give you the baby of a she-camel.” The man looked confused, until the Prophet ﷺ smiled and said, “Isn’t every camel the baby of a she-camel?” We all roared with laughter.
That’s how he was — never laughing to mock others, but always ready to bring ease to a heavy heart.
Later that week, I saw a little boy clinging to the Prophet’s ﷺ robe. The boy was crying because he had lost a small bird. The Prophet ﷺ sat with him, asking, “What happened to your birdy?” There were tears in the boy’s eyes, but by the end of their talk, he was giggling. That was the kindness of the Messenger of Allah ﷺ. Even in his mission, his humor was gentleness.
Now I’m older. I try to smile more. I try to notice when people are hurting — even if they’re laughing, too. Because that’s what I learned from the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ: it’s not just about telling the truth. It’s also about how you carry that truth — with compassion, with mercy, and sometimes, with a little laughter.
Story note: Inspired by multiple authentic hadith describing moments of gentle humor and warmth in the seerah — the life story of Prophet Muhammad ﷺ — collected in books such as Sahih al-Bukhari and narrated by his companions.
