I sit staring at this blank page…in a trance…a reverie of sorts that has stolen my heart for days.
Attempting to conjure how an eight day old babe was given to a strange woman to journey through rugged and inhospitable terrain not to be seen by his mother for two years. One does not have to be a mother, nor even a woman for the emotions to stir, for tears to swell, for the soul to tremble.
The year had seen a most unusual event; an army led by a ferocious, cruel and power hungry leader equipped with sophisticated weaponry along with a lumbering elephant. An elephant under the direct command of Allah Ta’ala who had willed that it not budge when ordered to demolish His House. Humiliation was the least this incursion suffered as small birds then bombarded the intruders with stones, maiming and eventually killing them all.
It was also a year of unprecedented drought and famine for the tribe of Banu Sa’d residing in an area approximately thirty miles from Makkah, and ten miles from the coast of Jeddah, in a place called Hudaybiyah, which later was to be the setting of another remarkable event and which today is part of an area called Shumaysiyah which is lined with petrol stations on the main freeway to Makkah.
Some fifty five days after the stubborn elephant incident, a caravan from Banu Sa’d journeyed to Makkah for trade and for the lactating women to seek a baby to nurse and return with to raise in the open environment of the desert, as was the custom at the time. This was also a means of income negotiated with the family of the baby.
The tribe left behind failed crops and straggly flocks who had not been yielding the usual milk for a long time. The camels and donkeys they now travelled on were thin, lean and weak. The weakest and slowest being a camel mounted by Abu Kabashah, also known as Harith, and his baby son Abdullah, and a frail donkey was carrying his wife Sayyida Halimah bint Abi Dhu’aib As-Sa’diyyah. They left their small daughter, Shaima in the care of relations.
As the tribe journeyed they grew impatient with the dawdling pace of Abu Kabashah and his family, repeatedly telling them to hurry on, but also realizing their feeble animals were incapable of going any faster. To compound the problem baby Abdullah cried for the greater part of the journey being hungry due to his mother suffering from the lack of nourishing food as her milk was less than plentiful and their weary animals were no longer able to supply them with milk. So they were left behind.
Eventually upon arrival in Makkah, their destitute conditions continued. The other women of the tribe had sought the new born babies and were happily discussing their fortune. Sayyida Halimah was told that there was one orphan baby still to be placed. He had been offered to all of the women but they had refused him in favour of other babies. Sayyida Halimah and Abu Kabashah were hesitant on taking such a child for fear of not receiving a stipend, plus there was a stigma to accepting such a baby. So they declined.
They remained in Makkah for two days. Two long difficult days and nights; sleep deprived, a hungry and restless son and a heavy heart with the thought of returning without a baby. On the third day the caravan was preparing to leave when Sayyida Halimah asked her husband for his opinion on taking the orphaned baby. He endorsed her proposal, so they arrived at the house of our Lady Aminah RadhiAllahu anha.
Our Blessed Lady Aminah RadhiAllahu anha had nursed her son for four days, along with Thuwaybah Al-Aslamiyyah, a slave who was freed by the rejoicing Abu Lahab, the brother of Abdullah ibn Abdul Muttalib, the father of Muhammad Al-Mustafa SallAllahu alaihi wasallam. Abu Lahab was jubilant at the birth of his deceased brother’s son. Abu Lahab’s abode is Jahannam, but due to the happiness he expressed on this memorable birth he will receive water while he is in the Hell Fire, SubhanAllah! Thuwaybah also nursed baby Muhammad SallAllahu alaihi wasallam for four days.
It was on the twentieth day of Rabial Awwal, when our Blessed Prophet SallAllahu alaihi wasallam as an eight day old baby was entrusted to Abu Kabashah and Sayyida Halimah for protection and nurturing.
Sayyida Halimah became the third woman honoured to suckle the most loved of mankind SallAllahu alaihi wasallam. Sayyida Halimah held the greatest human every created SallAllahu alaihi wasallam. Sayyida Halimah cradled the best of creation SallAllahu alaihi wasallam. Sayyida Halimah caressed the manifested light of Allah Ta’ala SallAllahu alaihi wasallam. Sayyida Halimah stroked the Mubarak head of the Prophet of Mercy SallAllahu alaihi wasallam. Sayyida Halimah kissed the bringer of glad tidings and warnings SallAllahu alaihi wasallam. Sayyida Halimah whispered to the shining lamp SallAllahu alaihi wasallam. Sayyida Halimah smiled upon him at whose feet people will be gathered SallAllahu alaihi wasallam. Sayyida Halimah cuddled the Prophet of repentance SallAllahu alaihi wasallam.
At this moment their destiny changed.
Sayyida Halimah suckled the last and final of all Prophets SallAllahu alaihi wasallam. She had not been able to feed her own son for days, and yet the minute she placed our Noble Prophet SallAllahu alaihi wasallam to her breast he was satiated, Abdullah also drank and he was satiated. The udders of their camel and donkey overflowed.
Abu Kabashah commented: “I think we have a blessed child.”
It has been narrated that they mounted the one animal to return, with Abu Kabashah and Abdulllah seated to the front and Sayyida Halimah nursing Muhammad SallAllahu alaihi seated behind him, but the animal refused to budge because our Blessed Prophet SallAllahu alaihi wasallam was at the back. Sayyida Halimah who had now experienced the sweetness of Muhammad did not want to let him go. She bundled him in her arms and rode the same donkey that limped on their trip to Makkah, but now sped ahead of the rest of the tribe, along with their camel. The Banu Sa’d people calling for them to go slow and wait for them, asking if these were the very same animals they had before.
Their destiny had changed. The myriad of miraculous events that are the life of our Beloved Rasul SallAllahu alaihi wasallam were manifest with the showering of bounties by the grace and generosity of Allah Ta’ala.
How much are we prepared to hold, cradle, caress and love our Esteemed Al-Mustafa? Maybe our destiny will change if we embody all that he has bequeathed us.
Allah made him kind and merciful towards the believers, a reminder, a blessing, a guide, a solace, a redeemer, an intercessor….embrace him as did Sayyida Halimah did.
ALLAHUMMA BARIK ALA MUHAMMADIN WA ALA ALI MUHAMMADIN KAMA BARAKTA ALA IBRAHEEMA WA ALA ALI IBRAHEEMA INNAKA HAMEEDUM MAJEED
ALLAHUMMA BARIK ALA MUHAMMADIN WA ALA ALI MUHAMMADIN KAMA BARAKTA ALA IBRAHEEMA WA ALA ALI IBRAHEEMA INNAKA HAMEEDUM MAJEED
ALLAHUMMA BARIK ALA MUHAMMADIN WA ALA ALI MUHAMMADIN KAMA BARAKTA ALA IBRAHEEMA WA ALA ALI IBRAHEEMA INNAKA HAMEEDUM MAJEED
ALLAHUMMA BARIK ALA MUHAMMADIN WA ALA ALI MUHAMMADIN KAMA BARAKTA ALA IBRAHEEMA WA ALA ALI IBRAHEEMA INNAKA HAMEEDUM MAJEED
ALLAHUMMA BARIK ALA MUHAMMADIN WA ALA ALI MUHAMMADIN KAMA BARAKTA ALA IBRAHEEMA WA ALA ALI IBRAHEEMA INNAKA HAMEEDUM MAJEED
All good is from Allah Ta’ala whereas mistakes are from this humble speck. May Allah Ta’ala Bless all readers, bringing you all closer to Him and His Rasul SallAllahu alaihi wasallam. May He accept our humble efforts and grant us the capacity to be good and do good. Ameen.
Asalaam Alaikum Sister Al-Miskeenah! Wonderfull post again, reminding us about the humble lady Sayyida Halima. JazakAllahu khair, and remember us in your humble dua’s and convey our salaam. I am thanking you from the bottom of my heart.
Comment by Umm-e-Shiraaz — March 28, 2008 @ 8:46 pm
Assalamualaikum Sisters,
I’d like to share with all something I wrote on my blog with respect to wet-nursing and nursing in general:
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THIS IS ME, ‘THE MOTHER’
A good girlfriend said, “This is me, ‘the mother’. Not some TV personality or friend…”. This, she said of her picture with Baby R, her youngest, latching on for nourishment. Nourishment that only a mother can give to a child. Milk of her own blood, flesh, heart, mind, body, soul. Milk when given, from a person, other than mother, makes another stranger’s infant, one’s own.
This as stated in the religion of Islam. The rights of a birth mother will be awarded to one’s wet nurse, even when the service rendered is actually a binding contract involving the exchange of monetary rewards. Such is the power of this contact, of this arrangement from one body to another. One, when even if, a life did not originate from one’s womb, or from one’s ovaries, maketh another life that of one’s own. Simply if milk flowed consistently from the mammary glands of one woman into the gut of an infant. That alone, awards you the status of mother.
Wet-nursing, a custom once widely practiced, then extinct is now revived once more in some posh parts of China due to the imitation infant-formula scare. Give a human baby, the best of its best; human milk, that is. Not some pasteurised, powdered, herbivourous, non-human, non-highest ordered, grazing, domesticated animal’s milk. Or worse, be tricked into levelling scoops of zero-nutrient formula.
Alas, I’m not lashing out on those who have chosen not to feed likewise. Please, no. I believe in the power of choice, informed or otherwise. I only want to draw upon the varied ideas behind these words: “This is me, ‘the mother’.”
Is it what we do or don’t do that makes us a mother? Why would a wet nurse be accorded one of the most honoured and cherished title in this world? Is it the inevitable transfer of one’s genetic information from milk to protein that creates a mother and child bond? Or is it the loving kindness and attention that is felt when two completely unlike individuals come together in the privacy of satiation and need? Or is it that rush of relief and comfort that flows with the onslaught of every let-down? Or is it the cognitive awe that one experiences, regardless of class or stature, when one is able to give life and nourishment to a completely helpless being? Or is it the warmth that you feel when the tender skin of private breasts rests upon the fluff of a newborn cheek? Or is it the cosmic feelings that arose as two souls unite; the souls of a mother and her child?
I sit and I reflect upon the wonders of this magic. “This is me, ‘the mother’…”, who will give all of herself and her worldly possessions to nourish every domain in that life she calls her own. This is the mother who will fight all of her battles and demons, internal, external or otherwise in the hope that peace and prosperity prevails. This is the mother you will see anywhere and everywhere in this universe or even that speculated parallel dimension. This is the mother who has the penchant to stand past the last ovation. This is the mother who will pick up all the broken pieces even if her instincts urge her to allow the child, his own foils. This is the mother who will stumble and fumble and yet remain till death do us part. This is the mother I salute.
Stand please, all you mothers and take a bow.
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Comment by Aisha — March 29, 2008 @ 4:55 am
Assalamualaikum dearest sister,
No matter how often we read that mubarik account, its power and majesty always enters the heart.
May the Reality of who he was and is, Salallahualaihiwasalam enter into our hearts and be manifest through us reviving the sunnan of how to live, ameen.
Comment by ikramuddin — March 29, 2008 @ 10:31 am
Also great post from the sister above, Jazakiallah khaira.
Comment by ikramuddin — March 29, 2008 @ 10:32 am
Salaam Alaikum Dearest and Beloved Sister:
I had to stop reading when Abu Kabashah commented: “I think we have a blessed child.” I could not see through my tears.
May Allah bless you for the gifts you give us all, and may he further enlighten your heart and ennoble your pen. Ameen.
Ya Haqq!
Comment by Irving — March 29, 2008 @ 8:25 pm
Assalamu alaikum Dear Umm-e-Shiraaz, humility is such a profound station, may we strive to reach the heights espoused in the Seerah, Ameen.
Dear Sister Aisha, JazakiLlahu khairan for sharing this tender account, Dear Brother Ikramuddin Ameen thumma Ameen for your reminder of reviving the Sunnah, such rewards await our efforts, SubhanAllah, may our efforts be forever on the increase by the grace of Allah Ta’ala.
Dear Irving Darvish, may our collective tears be the means of earning a nearness to our Beloved SallAllahu alaihi wasallam whose every aspect of his noble life triggers tears. (I have corrected the error I made in spelling of Abu Kabashah at that point)
Wassalamu alaikum
Wassalamu alaikum
Comment by almiskeenah — March 29, 2008 @ 9:03 pm
Asalamu alaikum. I have gone through your posts and I Am thankful for giving me a glance at medina. I live very far away, The Caribbean. I wish you could come to my forum whenever you have the chance. muslimummies.webs.com
inshAllah
oh what is the meaning of the imprisoned post
Comment by Habibah — March 30, 2008 @ 1:39 pm
Wa ‘alaikumus Salam Dear Sister Habibah, Masha’Allah a very beautiful site, Insha’Allah sisters will be visiting and contributing. The Caribbean, SubhanAllah…yes, geographically and physically far away, but by the beauty of our Deen we all are so close, bound by Allah Ta’ala’s Muhabbah, Alhumdulillah!
There are 3 ‘imprisoned’ posts…which one do you mean…they all abstractly revolve around the idea that for the Mu’min, the true believer, as distinct from the Muslim, that this existence is a prison…my mind plays with this idea…taking what Allah Ta’ala may gift us with as if imprisoned until we are released into His Garden…if you want specific explanations then mention the line/s.
Wassalamu alaikum
Comment by almiskeenah — March 30, 2008 @ 10:24 pm
asalamu alaikum, actually I thought you were in prison for taking out photos or something. My mistake. I am a web designer here in dominica, what do you do.
Comment by Habiba — April 26, 2008 @ 3:05 pm
www.tipawadi.com is just my parents resort. if you want to come and visit a tropical island sister
Comment by Habiba — April 26, 2008 @ 3:06 pm
Wa ‘alaikumus Salam Dear Sister Habiba, Masha’Allah you are in such a beautiful place…and thank you for sharing your parents resort…would love to visit…but think I best keep my focus on the ultimate of resorts…the Garden of Bliss! Insha’Allah we all are blessed with a place there.
I am in the prison called Dunya…as are all believers, according to the Hadith…may our sacrifices be rewarded with a place in Jannah, Ameen.
Sometimes I feel I may be arrested for taking photos here
Wassalamu alaikum
Comment by almiskeenah — April 26, 2008 @ 9:40 pm