I still remember the first time it happened—the night everything changed.
I wasn’t a leader or a scholar. I was just a boy who carried water up the rocky path to Cave Hira. The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ would go there often, sometimes for many days, to pray alone. Most people didn’t understand why. But he wasn't like the others. While the people in Mecca worshipped idols and forgot the path of Prophet Ibrahim — that’s the Prophet Abraham, who taught people to worship only Allah — Muhammad ﷺ kept away from false gods and searched for truth in the quiet.
I had never heard him raise his voice or demand attention. He was always kind. Even when he was silent, his heart seemed to speak with a strong calmness. That night, I brought water like I always did, just after the stars had filled the sky. I set the water down quietly outside the cave. But something was different—there was a feeling in the air, like the whole mountain was holding its breath.
Suddenly, I heard a sound inside. Not loud, but deep. Like something impossible to describe. That’s when the Prophet ﷺ came out, trembling. His face looked like someone who had seen both the might and mercy of something far beyond this world.
I didn’t know what to say. He didn’t speak to me, but I wasn’t afraid. I watched as he hurried down the mountain. Later, I heard from others what had happened. He had seen the Angel Jibril — this is Gabriel, the same angel who came to Prophet Musa (Moses) and Prophet Isa (Jesus). The angel told him to read, even though the Prophet ﷺ could not read or write.
“Read in the name of your Lord who created,” the angel had said. “Created man from a clot. Read, and your Lord is the Most Generous—Who taught by the pen—Taught man what he did not know.”
That was Surah Al-Alaq — the first few verses of the Qur’an, our holy book. It all began in that moment. In that small cave. On that dark mountain.
For days after, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I’d always thought change would come through fighting or big speeches. But it came through a message—a quiet command from the heavens. And the one chosen to carry it was someone gentle, honest, and alone in a cave praying to his Lord.
Now, whenever I carry water up to someone in need, I remember that night. I remember how something small can carry something enormous.
And I believe now, more than ever: when you seek the truth with sincerity, Allah sends His light—even in a cave, even to someone unlettered.
That’s how Islam began—not with an army or a crowd, but with the words of our Creator, sent to a heart prepared to listen.
—
Story inspired by Surah Al-Alaq (96:1–5) and classical Seerah accounts of the first revelation to Prophet Muhammad ﷺ in the cave of Hira.
I still remember the first time it happened—the night everything changed.
I wasn’t a leader or a scholar. I was just a boy who carried water up the rocky path to Cave Hira. The Prophet Muhammad ﷺ would go there often, sometimes for many days, to pray alone. Most people didn’t understand why. But he wasn't like the others. While the people in Mecca worshipped idols and forgot the path of Prophet Ibrahim — that’s the Prophet Abraham, who taught people to worship only Allah — Muhammad ﷺ kept away from false gods and searched for truth in the quiet.
I had never heard him raise his voice or demand attention. He was always kind. Even when he was silent, his heart seemed to speak with a strong calmness. That night, I brought water like I always did, just after the stars had filled the sky. I set the water down quietly outside the cave. But something was different—there was a feeling in the air, like the whole mountain was holding its breath.
Suddenly, I heard a sound inside. Not loud, but deep. Like something impossible to describe. That’s when the Prophet ﷺ came out, trembling. His face looked like someone who had seen both the might and mercy of something far beyond this world.
I didn’t know what to say. He didn’t speak to me, but I wasn’t afraid. I watched as he hurried down the mountain. Later, I heard from others what had happened. He had seen the Angel Jibril — this is Gabriel, the same angel who came to Prophet Musa (Moses) and Prophet Isa (Jesus). The angel told him to read, even though the Prophet ﷺ could not read or write.
“Read in the name of your Lord who created,” the angel had said. “Created man from a clot. Read, and your Lord is the Most Generous—Who taught by the pen—Taught man what he did not know.”
That was Surah Al-Alaq — the first few verses of the Qur’an, our holy book. It all began in that moment. In that small cave. On that dark mountain.
For days after, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I’d always thought change would come through fighting or big speeches. But it came through a message—a quiet command from the heavens. And the one chosen to carry it was someone gentle, honest, and alone in a cave praying to his Lord.
Now, whenever I carry water up to someone in need, I remember that night. I remember how something small can carry something enormous.
And I believe now, more than ever: when you seek the truth with sincerity, Allah sends His light—even in a cave, even to someone unlettered.
That’s how Islam began—not with an army or a crowd, but with the words of our Creator, sent to a heart prepared to listen.
—
Story inspired by Surah Al-Alaq (96:1–5) and classical Seerah accounts of the first revelation to Prophet Muhammad ﷺ in the cave of Hira.
