Our Children: This is the story of a Muslim named My Advise:
It's a symbolic story that many of us may know.
He was born in a Muslim family but they were weak in the Deen.
He was a lovely child, he was more precious then anything you've seen.
He grew up so quick; it wasjust a flash before his parent's eyes.
They didn't get to teach him about Islam. You knowhow the time just flies.
Before they knew it, they were sending him off to school.
They were so happy; he shined like a precious little jewel.
He was taught that he was a Muslim, but that's about all he knew.
He wanted to know more but his dad had way too many things to do.
He had cute little cheeks; they turned rosy as he got tired.
He was a handsome little guy, he was always admired.
But with his parents so busy, he never got to learn about Allah.
The days passed by and hisparents never taught him how to do Salaah.
Some more years passed by, and by now his voice began to change.
He felt new emotions, and he liked them, even thoughthey felt strange.
His dad finally took him one day to some Islamic Sunday school.
But he had already learned from his friends that religion just wasn't cool.
Time past by and the little man grew older.
With the passage of time his temper became bolder.
His mother was getting worried, he was found to be ditching school.
But she didn't say anything, or else his temper would flare up like fuel.
He would go to parties andcome home all drunk.
And in some of his classes he was now beginning to flunk.
Her cute little rosy cheekedchild had become a wild young man.
She cried every night because teaching him Islam was never in her plan.
He met a pretty girl namedRose; he thought he loved her for sure.
She noticed how he felt, so she asked him to go out with her.
He thought it was love at first sight; she kissed him on the first date.
But she just wanted to sleep with him, yet to that he had no debate.
He would go out all night with her, sometimes without even saying goodbye.
"Why didn't I show him theDeen?" His father could only cry.
He kept on partying while his family kept on weeping.
And he met other girls, andwith them too he was also sleeping.
He started to look sick, and he wasn't really feeling so good.
His mother just had to cry, he didn't look like the way he should.
He went to the doctor for what he thought was a cold.
"Young man, you've got AIDS," is what he was told.
When his mom found out she just couldn't take the pain.
For not teaching him his Deen, she knew she was to blame.
Mo got sicker and you could see him getting weaker day by day.
And he didn't know Allah, so to Him he never prayed.
What could she do now forher once precious little guy?
She knew he needed the Deen, but now she could only cry.
His time came one day so the Angel came for his spirit.
His dad told him to say la ilaha illalah, but Mo didn't hear it.
"What's that dad? I can't seem to hear you, everything's going dull."
But before Mo ever heard it, the Angel was off with his soul.
His father fell to his knees and cried like he never did before.
He knew he should have taught him the Deen, so hefelt guilty to the core.
This is the story of little Mo.Lets not let it be the story of our
kid's situation.
So please, my dear brothers and sisters, take this Deen to the next generation!/
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/- - - Translators:
1.http://free-translation.imtranslator.net/lowres.asp
2.http://translate.google.com/m?twu=1&hl=en&vi=m&sl=auto&tl=en/
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