Once upon a time, more than one hundred years ago, people lived a simple and happy life. Their Arab houses were made of clay and built around large inner courtyards; the rooms were lit by oil lanterns at night, since there was no electricity at that time.
The courtyards were adorned with beds of fragrant, colourful flowers; roses and all manner of other sweet- smelling plants were irrigated by the musical sounds of trickling streams that lifted the spirits and delighted the eyes.
Surrounding the houses were beautiful orchards full of fragrant flowers and tall trees which cast welcome shade on the ground beneath their spreading branches. Life was good, the rains were abundant, and the earth gave generously of its produce. People slept early and rose at dawn to pray; there was no excessive noise, no pollution from cars or factories, and no traffic accidents or unforeseen disasters. Tranquility and peace prevailed; people lived in harmony with each other and were united for the common good.
This was the time during which our story is set.
Ismael, the hajji [15]was pacing the hallway waiting impatiently for the imminent birth of his child. He was a noteworthy, religious merchant, a man of high principles and excellent conduct. He was truly noble and generous, and a man of great courage.
Within a few hours, his wife Um Saleem[16] their son, easily and with little pain.It was a boy! gave birth to A new child had come into this world: his beauty surpassed even that of the full moon and was without any equal. When he was informed of this happy news, Ismael the hajji was overjoyed.
Um Saleem said, ‘Al’lah has just given you a male child… he is more beautiful than the moon… so, what will you name him?’
He said, ‘Thank God… thank God, all praise is to God. His name will be Mohammad Amin, if it pleases God.’
The young master Mohammad Amin grew up basking in his mother’s love, and enveloped by his father’s tender feelings.
He was greatly admired by all who had the good fortune to meet him, and was showered with gifts.
As the baby grew into boyhood his father continued to
dote on him so much that every morning before leaving his house to go to work, he used to give the child’s mother awhole majeedi [17]coin, which was equal to half a golden lira, saying, ‘Um Saleem, take this majeedi as pocket money for our son today. Give it to him when he goes out to play in the neighbourhood.’
She would take the money and hide it.
When it was time for the adventurous child to go out, he would come to his mother and hold out his hand without saying a word, and so she would put the majeedi coin into his sweet little hand. Then she would bend down and kiss him, telling him to take care of himself, so that he would come to no harm.
After receiving his spending money, he would dash off to his little friends, who greeted him warmly. This was no wonder, as he was their kind champion, and an intelligent and brilliant leader.
When the young Amin looked at those of his friends who were poor, he always had a feeling of great compassion for them, and so he used to see what they needed and provide it for them. He would also give small coins to other friends, until most of his daily allowance was spent on his companions and chums.
What an excellent, generous and benevolent companion he was!
He did not go home until his pocket was empty, having spent most, or all, of his money on his young friends.
This pure, gentle child continued this benevolent habit until he was seven years old.
One day Ismael, the hajji, arrived home from work earlier than usual, groaning painfully because he felt extremely unwell.
When his son came in, he called him, so the young lad presented himself before his father: ‘Yes, father, what would you like me to do?’
Ismael said, ‘My dear son! Come here…’
Then, with his eyes full of tears he gave him a look filled with love, mercy and compassion. He pressed his beloved child to his chest and called on God his Provider in a voice full of hope and supplication, saying, ‘Oh, my Provider! I raised my other young son, Saleem, myself, but would You please raise this child (young Mohammad Amin), because I know I will not be able to do it?’
Ismael had realised that his time of death was drawing near, and a short time later he died and left this world in order to be close to Al’lah, his Provider.
His departure from this world meant that the young child and his mother were left alone in the house with no-one to care for them, as the elder son, Saleem, had left the family home after graduating from the Royal Military College.
Ismael’s wife was grief-stricken because of the death of her husband, the man of the house.
She sat alone with her young child, gazing at him with sad, tearful eyes. Her deep sorrow was reflected in his beautiful green eyes, so that she believed that he, too, was feeling the same anguish. It was painful for her to see him in that state, although the truth was that he was not sad, as due to his tender years he did not fully understand the significance of the calamity. In fact she was the only one to feel this sorrow on the death of her husband.
Nonetheless, she thought that he was suffering from the bitterness of his father’s parting, just as she was.
That is why this loving mother set about trying to recall a short story to tell her beloved little child, so as to lighten the sadness that she thought he was feeling.
She pondered for quite some time until finally she remembered just two incidents that had made her late husband very happy. Then she took the child to his bed, sat beside him, and started to relate the first story, saying, ‘My beloved son, the delight of my eyes, seven years ago, when I was pregnant with you, during the last months of my pregnancy I went out to the market to buy some things that I needed…’ and so she continued her gentle, sad speech.
She told him that as she was walking in the market to buy a few things, a man called Ibn Abidin came toward her. He was a preoccupied and absent-minded man, who loved Al’lah passionately, and who was more fascinated by the visions of his heart than by his own thoughts. At that time, Ibn Abidin was a man whose fame had spread all over Damascus and who was well known to all its citizens.
She continued by saying that he had approached her, and as he was about to run past, he stopped, raised his hand in the air and patted the pregnant woman on her back and said, ‘You’re bearing a great… great… great [18]saint!’ With that, he rapidly turned back towards the market and retraced his steps; but it seemed as though his words still echoed in the breeze:
‘Great… great…!’
The mother continued, saying, ‘My son! Everyone knows that all that this man, Ibn Abidin, says will come true because the angels speak through him, and all of his deeds are blessed.
‘Indeed, I was overjoyed at hearing this wonderful news telling me that you would be a great saint, and his words were quickly spread among all the women of the neighbourhood. They passed the word around and came to congratulate me, and it was as though your father’s heart (may God have mercy upon him) overflowed with happiness, because he realised that you would be full of goodness.’
Young Amin was in his bed, his beautiful eyes focused on his beloved mother as he listened silently but understanding everything his cherished mother was saying, feeling happy with her kind, sweet and calm words.
She went on, ‘Do you remember, my dear son, that day about three years ago, when you came out of your father’s room?’
The mother continued her story, relating the second incident that she had remembered.
Through this incident, our little hero’s wishes and aspirations (which far exceeded those of other children of his age) revealed themselves clearly, because when he was four years old, he had come out of his father’s room with a white piece of cloth wrapped around his head like the turban of a religious scholar.
He wanted to be a guide [19]to lead people to Al’lah! However, stranger still was the fact that he also took a military hat belonging to his brother Saleem, who was studying at the Royal Military College, and had put it on over the white turban.
It was an officer’s hat!
He was also riding a stick as a hobbyhorse. He hoped to be an officer!
When those watching saw him in that strange, thought- provoking costume, they were astonished, and his father said to him, ‘My son! Our darling child! How can you bring together these two things that have no bearing on each other? You can either be a guide showing people the way to Al’lah, or an officer, but you could never be both of these things at the same time!’
However, the child’s eyes were shining confidently with mounting hope, as if he was witnessing his glowing future stretching before him, and he said to himself, ‘Yes, I will be a guide leading people to Al’lah, as well as an officer in the security forces; and I will establish righteousness and justice for the people, securing for them their rights and getting rid of injustice and evil. And what’s more I’ll put my words into action!’
The guests regarded this as something that was most unlikely and that could never happen, but time alone would confirm the truth of his subconscious, indiscernible prediction of the future, because as a young man, he became an officer, and then a great guide and a venerable scholar.
That ‘great, great saint’ proved that he was truly obedient to Al’lah as he did what was right and fair for the people, and put an end to criminality and corruption.
By the bed, Amin’s mother continued to elaborate on her tale and speak kindly to her son, in an effort to elicit even a sad smile. All this time memories were passing before her eyes and adding to her own sorrow, until her child finally surrendered to tiredness and fell asleep. By then her concerns for him had abated, and she got up to adjust the lantern, dimming the light to a gentle glow.
And so, the little prince slept in peaceful tranquillity.