I was sweeping the floor of the Prophet’s Mosque when I first saw the men from Najran. Their robes were different, long and flowing, and they wore crosses around their necks. I didn’t know much — I was only a servant boy then — but I had never seen Christians visit our Prophet ﷺ before.
The people of Najran had come from the south of Arabia, from a place known for its churches and priests. They believed in Prophet ‘Isa — the one Christians call Jesus — but they also believed he was the son of God. I remember my hands shaking when I heard that. We were taught that Allah has no sons, no partners, no equals.
Still, the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ welcomed them. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t turn them away. He gave them a place to sit in his mosque — the same mosque I was cleaning — and even allowed them to pray in their way. I watched them, unsure. Could people with such different beliefs be treated kindly?
Days passed, and I listened from outside the room as they spoke with the Prophet ﷺ. They asked questions — difficult ones. And he answered with calm and wisdom, always pointing back to the Qur’an — the holy book revealed to him by Allah. He spoke of Prophet ‘Isa, peace be upon him, explaining that he was born to Maryam (Mary) by a miracle, just like Prophet Adam was created from clay without a father or mother.
Once, when the debate became tense, the Prophet ﷺ brought his beloved family out — Fatimah, his daughter; her husband ‘Ali; and their sons Hasan and Husayn, may Allah be pleased with them all. I saw them standing quietly behind him, full of dignity and peace. The Christians looked at the family and turned to each other, whispering. I learned later that the Prophet ﷺ had offered what is called a mubāhalah — where both sides ask Allah to send His curse on whoever is lying. But the Najran leaders stepped back. They didn’t want to argue anymore.
That moment taught me something I never forgot. Arguments didn’t win hearts, but respect could soften even the hardest disagreement. The Christians didn’t become Muslim, but they left in peace. No war, no hatred. Just understanding. And the Prophet ﷺ allowed them to live under Muslim protection, with fairness and dignity.
As I finished sweeping that day, Fatimah passed by with young Hasan toddling behind her. He looked at me and smiled. I smiled back, thinking how blessed we were to follow a prophet who led with mercy, not anger.
I still think of those days whenever I see someone different from me. The Prophet ﷺ taught us that being firm in our faith doesn't mean being harsh. It means showing the beauty of Islam through patience, truth, and kindness.
Story Note: Inspired by the seerah (biography) of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ and the historical event of the Christian delegation of Najran — recorded in Sahih al-Bukhari (3759) and other sources.
I was sweeping the floor of the Prophet’s Mosque when I first saw the men from Najran. Their robes were different, long and flowing, and they wore crosses around their necks. I didn’t know much — I was only a servant boy then — but I had never seen Christians visit our Prophet ﷺ before.
The people of Najran had come from the south of Arabia, from a place known for its churches and priests. They believed in Prophet ‘Isa — the one Christians call Jesus — but they also believed he was the son of God. I remember my hands shaking when I heard that. We were taught that Allah has no sons, no partners, no equals.
Still, the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ welcomed them. He didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t turn them away. He gave them a place to sit in his mosque — the same mosque I was cleaning — and even allowed them to pray in their way. I watched them, unsure. Could people with such different beliefs be treated kindly?
Days passed, and I listened from outside the room as they spoke with the Prophet ﷺ. They asked questions — difficult ones. And he answered with calm and wisdom, always pointing back to the Qur’an — the holy book revealed to him by Allah. He spoke of Prophet ‘Isa, peace be upon him, explaining that he was born to Maryam (Mary) by a miracle, just like Prophet Adam was created from clay without a father or mother.
Once, when the debate became tense, the Prophet ﷺ brought his beloved family out — Fatimah, his daughter; her husband ‘Ali; and their sons Hasan and Husayn, may Allah be pleased with them all. I saw them standing quietly behind him, full of dignity and peace. The Christians looked at the family and turned to each other, whispering. I learned later that the Prophet ﷺ had offered what is called a mubāhalah — where both sides ask Allah to send His curse on whoever is lying. But the Najran leaders stepped back. They didn’t want to argue anymore.
That moment taught me something I never forgot. Arguments didn’t win hearts, but respect could soften even the hardest disagreement. The Christians didn’t become Muslim, but they left in peace. No war, no hatred. Just understanding. And the Prophet ﷺ allowed them to live under Muslim protection, with fairness and dignity.
As I finished sweeping that day, Fatimah passed by with young Hasan toddling behind her. He looked at me and smiled. I smiled back, thinking how blessed we were to follow a prophet who led with mercy, not anger.
I still think of those days whenever I see someone different from me. The Prophet ﷺ taught us that being firm in our faith doesn't mean being harsh. It means showing the beauty of Islam through patience, truth, and kindness.
Story Note: Inspired by the seerah (biography) of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ and the historical event of the Christian delegation of Najran — recorded in Sahih al-Bukhari (3759) and other sources.
