I had never been more afraid than the night I ran with my uncle through the rocks and dust of the desert, hiding beneath the dark sky. You’ve likely never heard of me—and that’s fine. I was just a shepherd’s son, staying with relatives near Mecca, the sacred city where the Kaaba stands. But what I saw during the Hijrah—the migration of Prophet Muhammad ﷺ from Mecca to Madinah—changed my heart forever.
I remember the whispers in the town before it happened. The Quraysh, the tribe who ruled Mecca, were furious with the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ. He had been calling people to worship only Allah—the One true God—and to leave the idols behind. Many of us had heard his words, and something in our hearts stirred. But the Quraysh, in their anger and fear, made a plan to kill him.
That night, my uncle was one of the few trusted with a great secret: the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ was leaving Mecca with his closest companion, Abu Bakr. I didn’t understand it all then, only that they were running for their lives. I begged my uncle to let me come. I was young and quick, and he finally gave in.
We traveled quickly to a rugged mountain southwest of the city—the cave of Thawr. The Prophet ﷺ and Abu Bakr would hide there for a few nights. The Quraysh were searching everywhere, and this cave? It was dry, empty, and small. A place where a man could hardly sit straight. We stopped at a distance while my uncle carefully watched as the Prophet ﷺ and Abu Bakr entered, trying not to disturb the dust or leave prints behind.
Then something happened I will never forget. Not long after they disappeared into the cave, a small spider scurried across the entrance. Before my eyes, it began spinning a web, delicate and quick, right across the mouth of the cave. Birds fluttered nearby and made a nest in a small crevice just above it. I thought nothing of it—just nature doing its thing.
But before sunrise, we heard footsteps on the rocks. Quraysh horsemen. Their swords clanged. They were close. I trembled behind a boulder, clutching my uncle’s arm. They stood at the mouth of the cave.
“If they were inside,” one of them said, “would this spider’s web be unbroken? Look—it’s untouched. And birds nesting just above. They couldn’t have come this way.”
And just like that, they turned and left.
Tears burned in my eyes. Not of fear—but awe. Allah had protected His Prophet ﷺ, not with soldiers or walls, but with a web—thin as thread—and birds, small and fragile.
In that moment, I realized: nothing is too small for Allah to use, and no one who trusts Allah is ever truly alone. That night, my faith was born from the threads of a spider’s web.
Story note: Inspired by the story of the Prophet Muhammad’s ﷺ Hijrah and the cave of Thawr, as preserved in traditional seerah (biographies of the Prophet), especially the account in Sahih Muslim and works by Ibn Kathir.
I had never been more afraid than the night I ran with my uncle through the rocks and dust of the desert, hiding beneath the dark sky. You’ve likely never heard of me—and that’s fine. I was just a shepherd’s son, staying with relatives near Mecca, the sacred city where the Kaaba stands. But what I saw during the Hijrah—the migration of Prophet Muhammad ﷺ from Mecca to Madinah—changed my heart forever.
I remember the whispers in the town before it happened. The Quraysh, the tribe who ruled Mecca, were furious with the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ. He had been calling people to worship only Allah—the One true God—and to leave the idols behind. Many of us had heard his words, and something in our hearts stirred. But the Quraysh, in their anger and fear, made a plan to kill him.
That night, my uncle was one of the few trusted with a great secret: the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ was leaving Mecca with his closest companion, Abu Bakr. I didn’t understand it all then, only that they were running for their lives. I begged my uncle to let me come. I was young and quick, and he finally gave in.
We traveled quickly to a rugged mountain southwest of the city—the cave of Thawr. The Prophet ﷺ and Abu Bakr would hide there for a few nights. The Quraysh were searching everywhere, and this cave? It was dry, empty, and small. A place where a man could hardly sit straight. We stopped at a distance while my uncle carefully watched as the Prophet ﷺ and Abu Bakr entered, trying not to disturb the dust or leave prints behind.
Then something happened I will never forget. Not long after they disappeared into the cave, a small spider scurried across the entrance. Before my eyes, it began spinning a web, delicate and quick, right across the mouth of the cave. Birds fluttered nearby and made a nest in a small crevice just above it. I thought nothing of it—just nature doing its thing.
But before sunrise, we heard footsteps on the rocks. Quraysh horsemen. Their swords clanged. They were close. I trembled behind a boulder, clutching my uncle’s arm. They stood at the mouth of the cave.
“If they were inside,” one of them said, “would this spider’s web be unbroken? Look—it’s untouched. And birds nesting just above. They couldn’t have come this way.”
And just like that, they turned and left.
Tears burned in my eyes. Not of fear—but awe. Allah had protected His Prophet ﷺ, not with soldiers or walls, but with a web—thin as thread—and birds, small and fragile.
In that moment, I realized: nothing is too small for Allah to use, and no one who trusts Allah is ever truly alone. That night, my faith was born from the threads of a spider’s web.
Story note: Inspired by the story of the Prophet Muhammad’s ﷺ Hijrah and the cave of Thawr, as preserved in traditional seerah (biographies of the Prophet), especially the account in Sahih Muslim and works by Ibn Kathir.
