The sun was just beginning to rise over Madinah, turning the sky a soft pink. I remember that morning clearly because it was the first day of Ramadan, and something felt different—quieter, more still.
You won’t find my name in any book of hadith or seerah, but I was there. I was only thirteen, a boy who helped carry water for the masjid—our mosque in Madinah. I always tried to be near the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, may peace and blessings be upon him. Even if I only got to see his shadow as he passed, it was enough to warm my heart.
That year—Year 10 after the Hijrah, the migration from Mecca to Madinah—Ramadan arrived gently. The city was calm, and the believers seemed stronger than ever. But even before the first fast began, many of the older companions whispered that the Prophet ﷺ was different. Not weaker—but more serious, like someone preparing for a long journey.
We prayed Taraweeh—special Ramadan night prayers—in the masjid, and I stood behind the lines of men. That month, the Prophet ﷺ led the prayers for longer. He wept during recitation. At times, I did not understand every verse, but the sound of the Qur’an, Allah’s words, echoed into my heart. My small chest would feel full with something I couldn’t explain—like hope and grief mixed together.
One day near the end of the month, I helped carry water to a gathering outside the masjid. The Prophet ﷺ was speaking. I sat in the back, unnoticed, and listened. He reminded us of death—that none of us would live forever. He warned us to hold tightly to the Qur’an. And then he said something that made my stomach twist: “I do not know if I will be with you next Ramadan.”
He said it simply. Calmly. But the companions around him began to weep. I didn’t fully understand. Was he saying goodbye?
That night, I walked home slowly, my hands empty. I remembered the verse he had once recited during prayer: “This day I have perfected your religion for you...” (Surah al-Ma'idah, 5:3). Some scholars say this verse was revealed that very Ramadan during his final khutbah—sermon. I didn’t understand the full meaning then. But part of me knew—something was ending.
After that Ramadan, Madinah felt different. A few months later, the Prophet ﷺ returned to Allah. The man who had taught us everything—how to pray, how to forgive, how to care for the poor—was gone.
But I also remembered how united we felt that last Ramadan. How our love for the Qur’an grew stronger. How we cried together in prayer. That month had prepared us, even when we didn’t know it.
Now, as an old man, I tell my grandchildren about that final Ramadan—not to make them sad, but to remind them that Allah's mercy is always near. Even when something ends, His guidance remains. And I tell them that the Prophet ﷺ left behind a light that will never fade.
Story Note: Inspired by traditional seerah (Prophetic biography) accounts of the final Ramadan of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, in Year 10 AH. Some scholars mention that during this month, the verse “This day I have perfected your religion for you” (Surah al-Ma’idah, 5:3) was revealed, and that the Prophet ﷺ hinted he would not witness another Ramadan.
The sun was just beginning to rise over Madinah, turning the sky a soft pink. I remember that morning clearly because it was the first day of Ramadan, and something felt different—quieter, more still.
You won’t find my name in any book of hadith or seerah, but I was there. I was only thirteen, a boy who helped carry water for the masjid—our mosque in Madinah. I always tried to be near the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, may peace and blessings be upon him. Even if I only got to see his shadow as he passed, it was enough to warm my heart.
That year—Year 10 after the Hijrah, the migration from Mecca to Madinah—Ramadan arrived gently. The city was calm, and the believers seemed stronger than ever. But even before the first fast began, many of the older companions whispered that the Prophet ﷺ was different. Not weaker—but more serious, like someone preparing for a long journey.
We prayed Taraweeh—special Ramadan night prayers—in the masjid, and I stood behind the lines of men. That month, the Prophet ﷺ led the prayers for longer. He wept during recitation. At times, I did not understand every verse, but the sound of the Qur’an, Allah’s words, echoed into my heart. My small chest would feel full with something I couldn’t explain—like hope and grief mixed together.
One day near the end of the month, I helped carry water to a gathering outside the masjid. The Prophet ﷺ was speaking. I sat in the back, unnoticed, and listened. He reminded us of death—that none of us would live forever. He warned us to hold tightly to the Qur’an. And then he said something that made my stomach twist: “I do not know if I will be with you next Ramadan.”
He said it simply. Calmly. But the companions around him began to weep. I didn’t fully understand. Was he saying goodbye?
That night, I walked home slowly, my hands empty. I remembered the verse he had once recited during prayer: “This day I have perfected your religion for you...” (Surah al-Ma'idah, 5:3). Some scholars say this verse was revealed that very Ramadan during his final khutbah—sermon. I didn’t understand the full meaning then. But part of me knew—something was ending.
After that Ramadan, Madinah felt different. A few months later, the Prophet ﷺ returned to Allah. The man who had taught us everything—how to pray, how to forgive, how to care for the poor—was gone.
But I also remembered how united we felt that last Ramadan. How our love for the Qur’an grew stronger. How we cried together in prayer. That month had prepared us, even when we didn’t know it.
Now, as an old man, I tell my grandchildren about that final Ramadan—not to make them sad, but to remind them that Allah's mercy is always near. Even when something ends, His guidance remains. And I tell them that the Prophet ﷺ left behind a light that will never fade.
Story Note: Inspired by traditional seerah (Prophetic biography) accounts of the final Ramadan of the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, in Year 10 AH. Some scholars mention that during this month, the verse “This day I have perfected your religion for you” (Surah al-Ma’idah, 5:3) was revealed, and that the Prophet ﷺ hinted he would not witness another Ramadan.
