I was only ten when I first traveled to Medina–the blessed city where the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ built his home and his masjid. I came with my uncle, a trader from the mountains outside Ta’if. We had sacks of dried figs and bundles of wool to sell. I had never seen so many people gathered in one place. There were men from Ethiopia, merchants from Yemen, and families from distant villages, all walking together in peace.
What I remember most wasn’t the markets or the camels—it was a small pouch.
It happened on our third evening in the city. We had just left the masjid—Masjid an-Nabawi, the mosque built by the Prophet himself—and as we walked through the narrow streets, a group of children ran past us, laughing.
Then I saw her. A girl about my age was sitting on a stone bench outside her home. She was holding a broken clay cup, and she looked like she had been crying. Her sleeves were patched, and her sandals were worn down. I stopped walking.
“Come along,” my uncle said, not noticing.
But something tugged at me. I reached into my satchel and pulled out a small leather pouch filled with dried figs. It was mine, a gift from my mother before I left. I had been saving it.
I hesitated. Then I walked up to the girl, held out the pouch, and said, “These are sweet—I hope they make you smile.”
She stared at me as if she didn’t understand. Then, slowly, she took the pouch. I saw her eyes light up, and she whispered, "Jazakallahu khayran,"—a prayer meaning, “May Allah reward you with goodness.” She hugged the pouch to her chest and smiled.
That night, as we walked home, my uncle noticed I seemed quiet.
“You’re thinking about the girl,” he said. “You gave her your figs.”
I nodded, suddenly wondering if I had done the right thing. “Was it wrong?”
He chuckled softly. “No, nephew. You followed the Sunnah—the way of the Prophet ﷺ.”
Then he explained something I’ve never forgotten.
“The Messenger of Allah ﷺ loved to give gifts," he said. "Not just valuable things. Sometimes he would hand someone a bowl of dates, or even share a smile. He said that gift-giving increases love between people.”
Later, I learned the Prophet ﷺ told his companions: “Exchange gifts, for it will increase your love for one another.” That hadith was passed down by scholars like Imam al-Bukhari and Imam Muslim.
That one small pouch did more than fill a belly. It connected two hearts who had never spoken before. From that day, I began to understand that Islam wasn’t just about prayers and fasting—it was also about kindness. About giving, even when you had little.
I never saw the girl again. But every time I see a child smile when given something sweet, I remember her—and I silently pray that Allah returned her kindness a hundredfold.
Story Note: Inspired by the hadith, “Exchange gifts, for it increases love,” as narrated by al-Bukhari (2566) and Muslim (2585).
I was only ten when I first traveled to Medina–the blessed city where the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ built his home and his masjid. I came with my uncle, a trader from the mountains outside Ta’if. We had sacks of dried figs and bundles of wool to sell. I had never seen so many people gathered in one place. There were men from Ethiopia, merchants from Yemen, and families from distant villages, all walking together in peace.
What I remember most wasn’t the markets or the camels—it was a small pouch.
It happened on our third evening in the city. We had just left the masjid—Masjid an-Nabawi, the mosque built by the Prophet himself—and as we walked through the narrow streets, a group of children ran past us, laughing.
Then I saw her. A girl about my age was sitting on a stone bench outside her home. She was holding a broken clay cup, and she looked like she had been crying. Her sleeves were patched, and her sandals were worn down. I stopped walking.
“Come along,” my uncle said, not noticing.
But something tugged at me. I reached into my satchel and pulled out a small leather pouch filled with dried figs. It was mine, a gift from my mother before I left. I had been saving it.
I hesitated. Then I walked up to the girl, held out the pouch, and said, “These are sweet—I hope they make you smile.”
She stared at me as if she didn’t understand. Then, slowly, she took the pouch. I saw her eyes light up, and she whispered, "Jazakallahu khayran,"—a prayer meaning, “May Allah reward you with goodness.” She hugged the pouch to her chest and smiled.
That night, as we walked home, my uncle noticed I seemed quiet.
“You’re thinking about the girl,” he said. “You gave her your figs.”
I nodded, suddenly wondering if I had done the right thing. “Was it wrong?”
He chuckled softly. “No, nephew. You followed the Sunnah—the way of the Prophet ﷺ.”
Then he explained something I’ve never forgotten.
“The Messenger of Allah ﷺ loved to give gifts," he said. "Not just valuable things. Sometimes he would hand someone a bowl of dates, or even share a smile. He said that gift-giving increases love between people.”
Later, I learned the Prophet ﷺ told his companions: “Exchange gifts, for it will increase your love for one another.” That hadith was passed down by scholars like Imam al-Bukhari and Imam Muslim.
That one small pouch did more than fill a belly. It connected two hearts who had never spoken before. From that day, I began to understand that Islam wasn’t just about prayers and fasting—it was also about kindness. About giving, even when you had little.
I never saw the girl again. But every time I see a child smile when given something sweet, I remember her—and I silently pray that Allah returned her kindness a hundredfold.
Story Note: Inspired by the hadith, “Exchange gifts, for it increases love,” as narrated by al-Bukhari (2566) and Muslim (2585).
