I remember the last time I heard his voice clearly. It was Fajr — the dawn prayer — and the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ was too ill to come out to the prayer. I was just a boy then, helping my father set up the lines in the masjid, the Prophet’s mosque in Madinah. You won’t find my name in any surah, but I was there in those final days, watching the one Allah had sent to us prepare to return to his Lord.
That morning, we stood behind Abu Bakr — the Prophet's closest friend — as he led the prayer. Then, suddenly, the curtain of the Prophet’s room parted. We looked over, and there he was — our beloved Messenger ﷺ — standing as weak as he was, smiling at us. His face shone like the full moon. We didn’t hear him say anything, but his eyes said everything.
I couldn’t stop staring. Even while ill, even while leaning on his cousin Ali and his wife Aisha — may Allah be pleased with both of them — he looked at us with eyes full of peace and...gratitude. Deep, unshakable thankfulness to Allah.
Later, when we heard that he had passed away, the whole city felt like it stopped breathing. Some people refused to believe it. Umar ibn al-Khattab — the strong companion — stood in the masjid shouting, “He is not dead!” But Abu Bakr calmed us all with just a few words from the Qur’an: “Muhammad is only a messenger. Messengers have passed on before him...” (Surah Aal ‘Imran, 3:144).
For days, I thought about that last Fajr. That final smile. I asked my father, “Why would the Prophet smile when he was so sick?”
He looked down at me and said gently, “Because every moment was worship for him. Every prayer brought him closer to Allah. He once said, ‘Should I not be a thankful slave?’ even though all his sins were forgiven. That smile was his shukr — his gratitude in worship — even as he was leaving this world.”
That stayed with me.
As I grew older, I began standing in Fajr prayer with new eyes. There were days I was tired, days I was sad, but I remembered that smile. That final prayer. And I whispered, “Alhamdulillah — all praise belongs to Allah” — not just with my tongue, but from someplace deep inside me.
Some say the Prophet ﷺ spent part of his last night on earth in prayer, even while in pain. He didn't have to. But he did — as thankfulness, as love, as worship. That made me realize something: gratitude isn’t just saying thank you. It’s choosing to stand, to bow, to prostrate — even when it hurts — and knowing that every breath, if done for Allah, is a blessing.
Now when people ask me why I never miss a prayer, I tell them, “Because he smiled at us, even on the hardest morning.”
And I want to smile back, in sujood — in prostration — thanking Allah, just like he taught us.
Story notes: Inspired by authentic accounts of the Prophet’s final days found in Sahih Bukhari and the Seerah of Ibn Hisham. The Prophet ﷺ’s phrase, “Should I not be a thankful slave?” is related in Sahih Muslim.
I remember the last time I heard his voice clearly. It was Fajr — the dawn prayer — and the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ was too ill to come out to the prayer. I was just a boy then, helping my father set up the lines in the masjid, the Prophet’s mosque in Madinah. You won’t find my name in any surah, but I was there in those final days, watching the one Allah had sent to us prepare to return to his Lord.
That morning, we stood behind Abu Bakr — the Prophet's closest friend — as he led the prayer. Then, suddenly, the curtain of the Prophet’s room parted. We looked over, and there he was — our beloved Messenger ﷺ — standing as weak as he was, smiling at us. His face shone like the full moon. We didn’t hear him say anything, but his eyes said everything.
I couldn’t stop staring. Even while ill, even while leaning on his cousin Ali and his wife Aisha — may Allah be pleased with both of them — he looked at us with eyes full of peace and...gratitude. Deep, unshakable thankfulness to Allah.
Later, when we heard that he had passed away, the whole city felt like it stopped breathing. Some people refused to believe it. Umar ibn al-Khattab — the strong companion — stood in the masjid shouting, “He is not dead!” But Abu Bakr calmed us all with just a few words from the Qur’an: “Muhammad is only a messenger. Messengers have passed on before him...” (Surah Aal ‘Imran, 3:144).
For days, I thought about that last Fajr. That final smile. I asked my father, “Why would the Prophet smile when he was so sick?”
He looked down at me and said gently, “Because every moment was worship for him. Every prayer brought him closer to Allah. He once said, ‘Should I not be a thankful slave?’ even though all his sins were forgiven. That smile was his shukr — his gratitude in worship — even as he was leaving this world.”
That stayed with me.
As I grew older, I began standing in Fajr prayer with new eyes. There were days I was tired, days I was sad, but I remembered that smile. That final prayer. And I whispered, “Alhamdulillah — all praise belongs to Allah” — not just with my tongue, but from someplace deep inside me.
Some say the Prophet ﷺ spent part of his last night on earth in prayer, even while in pain. He didn't have to. But he did — as thankfulness, as love, as worship. That made me realize something: gratitude isn’t just saying thank you. It’s choosing to stand, to bow, to prostrate — even when it hurts — and knowing that every breath, if done for Allah, is a blessing.
Now when people ask me why I never miss a prayer, I tell them, “Because he smiled at us, even on the hardest morning.”
And I want to smile back, in sujood — in prostration — thanking Allah, just like he taught us.
Story notes: Inspired by authentic accounts of the Prophet’s final days found in Sahih Bukhari and the Seerah of Ibn Hisham. The Prophet ﷺ’s phrase, “Should I not be a thankful slave?” is related in Sahih Muslim.
