A true man of God
When I was young, I would see my father bring home bags of rice, cans of oil, and bags of non perishable beans and kind; twice a year; and for days My Mom, Dad, Sister and I would fill bag after bag with all these goodies. We were allowed to talk about anything we wanted, except for one thing. We could never ask what he was going to do with the bags. I asked once. "None of your business" was his reply. As each bag was filled, he would put a crisp brand new 100 Tooman bill (equivalent to $100); which he had ordered specially through the bank for this purpose; in the bag and close it. We would then place all these bags in the trunk of his car, and the next day he would take them to places unknown to us.
When I was 15, he asked me if I wanted to go with him. I was of course dying to know what he did with all these bags, so I gladly accepted. As it turned out, he had a network of friends who would search the city throughout the year for those who had true needs, and he would drive these bags of goods to each of the houses of these people. As we stopped at each house, my job was to take a bag out of the trunk, place it by the door and ring the bell or knock, and then run back to the car as fast as I could.
Being 15, I was dying to see the faces of the grateful people, as they were faced with this benevolent gift of charity; so I took my sweet time at one of the stops. I heard my father screame: "YAHYA, Bepar too machine (get in the car NOW.)" As we drove away, he explained to me that these were gifts from God, and that we, the servants, were never to steal God's Glory from Him. "If they see you" he said, "they will have you to thank, but if they see no one, then they will have to give thanks to God." I have been a student of religions for nearly forty years, and I have yet to experience anything that has impacted my faith as much as this experience has.
For many people in this world, a band of terrorists are the only representatives of Islam they will ever meet. To me, however, my father is still the man who truly represents my God. My father was just one man among thousands upon thousands of men who serve God daily, in truth and honor, but they are rarely known; for what they do they do in silence, for the glory of God and not for man. Regardless of their religion, men like my father are the true men of God, and my source of inspiration.
May God bless you Baba-Jon. I miss you dearly.
When I was 15, he asked me if I wanted to go with him. I was of course dying to know what he did with all these bags, so I gladly accepted. As it turned out, he had a network of friends who would search the city throughout the year for those who had true needs, and he would drive these bags of goods to each of the houses of these people. As we stopped at each house, my job was to take a bag out of the trunk, place it by the door and ring the bell or knock, and then run back to the car as fast as I could.
Being 15, I was dying to see the faces of the grateful people, as they were faced with this benevolent gift of charity; so I took my sweet time at one of the stops. I heard my father screame: "YAHYA, Bepar too machine (get in the car NOW.)" As we drove away, he explained to me that these were gifts from God, and that we, the servants, were never to steal God's Glory from Him. "If they see you" he said, "they will have you to thank, but if they see no one, then they will have to give thanks to God." I have been a student of religions for nearly forty years, and I have yet to experience anything that has impacted my faith as much as this experience has.
For many people in this world, a band of terrorists are the only representatives of Islam they will ever meet. To me, however, my father is still the man who truly represents my God. My father was just one man among thousands upon thousands of men who serve God daily, in truth and honor, but they are rarely known; for what they do they do in silence, for the glory of God and not for man. Regardless of their religion, men like my father are the true men of God, and my source of inspiration.
May God bless you Baba-Jon. I miss you dearly.
posted by Unknown | 6:15 PM
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