You wouldn’t know my name—I was just a neighbor, one of many in the hill country when something unbelievable happened in our town. But I remember the day clearly. I was filling water jars at the well when I heard the news. It spread like wildfire: Zakariyya’s wife was expecting a baby.
Everyone was stunned. Zakariyya — known as Prophet Zechariah in the Bible — was already old, and his wife, she’d never been able to have children. I had seen the sadness in her eyes over the years, always smiling kindly at the children in the market, giving extra dates to the little ones. Always gentle, always patient — but never a mother.
At first, people whispered. Some said it was a mistake. Others claimed it couldn’t be true. But that’s when I remembered something I had overheard once in the masjid — the mosque. Zakariyya had made a du’a — a heartfelt prayer — not long ago.
I’d been behind the partition wall, helping clean the upper shelves, when I heard him. His voice trembled with age but was filled with hope. “My Lord,” he had whispered, “grant me from Yourself a good offspring. Indeed, You are the Hearer of supplication.”
He’d said it with such certainty, like he really believed that Allah — the Arabic name for God — could give him what seemed impossible.
After that, something in the air had shifted.
And then the news came. His wife was carrying a child. A miracle.
They named him Yahya — you may know him as John the Baptist. Allah Himself gave him that name. No one before had ever been called that.
I remember watching Yahya grow up. Unlike other boys, he didn’t run after games in the streets or get caught sneaking extra figs from the market stalls. He wore simple clothes. He spoke gently. He always seemed to be in thought — like he felt the voice of Allah in things the rest of us overlooked.
One time, I saw him weep beneath a tree. I thought he was hurt, so I rushed over. But he just said quietly, “I was thinking about the Day of Judgment... and how I must always remember Allah.”
Even then, he reminded me of his father — always connecting his pain, his hope, and his joy to Allah.
Our scholars say — as written in Surah Al-An'am (6:85) — that Yahya was among the righteous. Allah guided him, loved him, and made him a prophet even as a child.
Watching that family, I learned something. It wasn’t just a story about a miracle or an old man’s prayer being answered. It was about how nothing is too hard for Allah.
Zakariyya prayed in secret, with a heart full of trust. And Allah answered in full, with mercy and might.
Since then, whenever I pray, I remember Yahya. And I say: if Allah could bring a prophet from a barren womb, what can't He do?
Story Note: Inspired by Surah Al-An’am (6:85) and traditional Islamic commentaries detailing the miraculous birth and righteousness of Prophet Yahya (John the Baptist), the son of Zakariyya (Zechariah).
You wouldn’t know my name—I was just a neighbor, one of many in the hill country when something unbelievable happened in our town. But I remember the day clearly. I was filling water jars at the well when I heard the news. It spread like wildfire: Zakariyya’s wife was expecting a baby.
Everyone was stunned. Zakariyya — known as Prophet Zechariah in the Bible — was already old, and his wife, she’d never been able to have children. I had seen the sadness in her eyes over the years, always smiling kindly at the children in the market, giving extra dates to the little ones. Always gentle, always patient — but never a mother.
At first, people whispered. Some said it was a mistake. Others claimed it couldn’t be true. But that’s when I remembered something I had overheard once in the masjid — the mosque. Zakariyya had made a du’a — a heartfelt prayer — not long ago.
I’d been behind the partition wall, helping clean the upper shelves, when I heard him. His voice trembled with age but was filled with hope. “My Lord,” he had whispered, “grant me from Yourself a good offspring. Indeed, You are the Hearer of supplication.”
He’d said it with such certainty, like he really believed that Allah — the Arabic name for God — could give him what seemed impossible.
After that, something in the air had shifted.
And then the news came. His wife was carrying a child. A miracle.
They named him Yahya — you may know him as John the Baptist. Allah Himself gave him that name. No one before had ever been called that.
I remember watching Yahya grow up. Unlike other boys, he didn’t run after games in the streets or get caught sneaking extra figs from the market stalls. He wore simple clothes. He spoke gently. He always seemed to be in thought — like he felt the voice of Allah in things the rest of us overlooked.
One time, I saw him weep beneath a tree. I thought he was hurt, so I rushed over. But he just said quietly, “I was thinking about the Day of Judgment... and how I must always remember Allah.”
Even then, he reminded me of his father — always connecting his pain, his hope, and his joy to Allah.
Our scholars say — as written in Surah Al-An'am (6:85) — that Yahya was among the righteous. Allah guided him, loved him, and made him a prophet even as a child.
Watching that family, I learned something. It wasn’t just a story about a miracle or an old man’s prayer being answered. It was about how nothing is too hard for Allah.
Zakariyya prayed in secret, with a heart full of trust. And Allah answered in full, with mercy and might.
Since then, whenever I pray, I remember Yahya. And I say: if Allah could bring a prophet from a barren womb, what can't He do?
Story Note: Inspired by Surah Al-An’am (6:85) and traditional Islamic commentaries detailing the miraculous birth and righteousness of Prophet Yahya (John the Baptist), the son of Zakariyya (Zechariah).
