A little girl went to her bedroom and pulled a 'Glass Jelly Jar' from its hiding place in the closet.

Little girl poured the change out on the floor and counted it carefully. Three times, even. The total had to be exactly perfect. No chance here for mistakes.

Carefully placing the coins back in the jar and twisting on the cap, she slipped out the back door and made her way to 6 blocks to Rashid's Drug Store with the big Red Indian Chief sign above the door. Little girl waited patiently for the Pharmacist to give her some attention but he was too busy at this moment. Little girl (Tasneem) twisted her feet to make a scuffing noise; Nothing. She cleared her throat with the most disgusting sound she could muster; No good. Finally she took a coin from her Jar and banged it on the glass counter. That did it!

"And what do you want?" the Pharmacist asked in an annoyed tone of voice. "I'm talking to my brother from Lahore whom I haven't seen in ages," he said without waiting for a reply to his question.

"Well, I want to buy an mmm..."

The Pharmacist stared back in the same annoyed tone.

"He's really; really sick.... and I want to buy a miracle."

"I beg your pardon?" said the Pharmacist.

"My brother name is Aslam and he has something bad growing inside his head and my Daddy says only a miracle can save my brother now. So how much does a miracle cost?"

"We don't sell miracles here, little girl. I'm sorry but I can't help you," the Pharmacist said, softening a little.

"Listen, I have the money to pay for miracle. If it isn't enough, I will get the rest. Just tell me how much it costs?"

The Pharmacist's brother was a well dressed man from Lahore. He stooped down and asked the little girl, "What kind of a miracle does your brother need?"

"I don't know," Tasneem replied with her eyes welling up. "I just know he's really sick and Mommy says he needs an operation. But my Daddy can't pay for it, so I want to use my money."

"How much do you have?" asked the man from Lahore.

"Ten and half rupees. And it's all the money I have, but I can get some more if I need to."

"Well, what a coincidence," smiled the man. "Ten and half rupees - the exact price of a miracle for your little brother."

He took her money in one hand and with the other hand he grasped her hand and said: "Take me to where you live. I want to see your brother and meet your parents. Let's see if I have the miracle you need."

That well dressed man from Lahore was Dr. Ashraf Beg, a surgeon specializing in Neuro-Surgery. The operation was completed free of charge and it wasn't long until Aslam was home again and doing well.

Mom and Dad were happily talking about the chain of events that had led them to this place.

"That Surgery," her Mom whispered. "Was a real miracle. I wonder how much it would have cost?"

Tasneem smiled. She knew exactly how much a miracle cost ... Ten and half rupees ...plus the faith of a little girl.

Noble Qur'an says: "And when I am ill, it is He Who cures me." (26:80)

And mom also knew exactly how much a miracle cost ... selfless devotion to their profession by doctors like Ashraf Beg ...

Shaykh Fath al-Mowsily relates, once I saw a young boy walking through the jungle. It appeared as if he was uttering some words. I greeted him with Salaam and he replied accordingly. I inquired, "Where are you going?" Young boy retorted, "To the house of Allah, Kaaba in Makkah." I further asked, "What are you reciting?" "Noble Qur'an" he replied. I remarked, "You are at a tender age, it is not an obligation that you are required to fulfill."

Young boy said, "I have witnessed death approach people younger than me and therefore would like to prepare if death was to knock on my door." I astoundingly commented, "Your steps are small and your destination far." He responded, "My duty is to take the step and it remains the responsibility of Allah (SWT) to take me to my destination." I continued to ask, "Where is your provision and conveyance (means of transport)." He replied, "My Yaqeen (certainty) is my provision and my feet's are my conveyance." I explained, "I am asking you regarding bread and water."

Young boy replied! "Oh Shaykh if someone invited you to his house, would it be appropriate to take your own food?" I exclaimed, "No!" "Similarly, My Lord has invited His servant to His house, it is only the weakness of your Yaqeen (certainty) that makes us carry provisions. Despite this, do you think Allah (SWT) will let me go to waste?" "Never" I replied. Young boy then left. Sometime later I saw him in Makkah. Young boy approached me and inquired, "Oh Shaykh are you still of weak belief?"

Source: Stories of the Pious by Shaikh Ahmad Ali

Years ago a farmer owned land along the Atlantic seacoast. He constantly advertised for hired hands. Most people were reluctant to work on farms along the Atlantic. They dreaded the awful storms that raged across the ocean, wreaking havoc on the buildings and crops. As the farmer interviewed applicants for the job, he received a steady stream of refusals.

Finally, a short, thin man, well past middle age, approached the farmer. "Are you a good farmhand?" the farmer asked him.

"Well, I can sleep when the wind blows," answered the little man.

Although puzzled by this answer, the farmer, desperate for help, hired him. The little man worked well around the farm, busy from dawn to dusk, and the farmer felt satisfied with the little man's work.

Then one night the wind howled loudly in from offshore. Jumping out of bed, the farmer grabbed a lantern and rushed next door to the hired man's sleeping quarters. Farmer shook the little man and yelled, "Get up! A storm is coming! Tie things down before they blow away!"

The little man rolled over in bed and said firmly, "No sir. I told you, I can sleep when the wind blows."

Enraged by the response, the farmer was tempted to fire him on the spot. Instead, he hurried outside to prepare for the storm. To his amazement, he discovered that all of the haystacks had been covered with tarpaulins. The cows were in the barn, the chickens were in the coops, and the doors were barred. The shutters were tightly secured. Everything was tied down. Nothing could blow away.

The farmer then understood what his hired man meant, so he returned to his bed to also sleep while the wind blew.

When you're prepared, spiritually, mentally, and physically, you have nothing to fear. Can you sleep when the wind blows through your life? The hired man in the story was able to sleep because he had secured the farm against the storm.

We with faith secure ourselves against the storms of life by putting our trust in Allah (SWT), Our Noble Prophet Muhammad (saws) and his Ahlul Bayt (progeny), We don't need to understand, and we just need to hold His hand to be secure in the midst of the storms. Sleep well!