إِنَّا لِلّهِ وَإِنَّـا إِلَيْهِ رَاجِعون
Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji’un.
Dr. Ahmed Abdul Hameed and Abdullah DeLancey in Mecca, Saudi Arabia
Dr. Ahmed Abdul Hameed enjoying His first time sledding in Canada (covered in Snow)
In my time on this Earth I have had the opportunity to meet tens of thousands of people.
My Khaleel Ahmed Abdul Hameed, from Egypt (pictured above) was the best of all the people I have ever met.
That is not an exaggeration. He truly loved Allah Subhana Wa Ta Ala and was very compassionate to all. His kindness and concern were so large. His concern for converts to Islam was unwavering and his support to whoever he could help was steadfast. He was always my Brother, Best Friend and Companion who constantly reminded Me that My Lord is Allah. I miss Him very much.
May Allah grant Him Jennah Al Firdous. Ameen.
So if you are reading this, do a solid and Please just take a couple seconds to make Du’aa for Him that Allah forgives Him and admits Him into Jennah Al Firdous.
The Abdul Hameed Project
In continuing in Ahmed’s righteous work with Muslim converts, so as to add to Ahmed’s good deeds, InshAllah, I hereby pledge to donate a free English Qur’an “The Clear Qur’an” to any true inquirer interested in Islam that emails me requesting one. Ya Allah, please add it to Ahmed’s good deeds. Ameen.
Just email: email@example.com
When Great Trees Fall
When great trees fall,
rocks on distant hills shudder,
lions hunker down in tall grasses,
and even elephants lumber after safety.
When great trees fall in forests,
small things recoil into silence,
their senses eroded beyond fear.
When great souls die, the air around us
becomes light, rare, sterile.
We breathe, briefly.
Our eyes, briefly, see with a hurtful clarity.
Our memory, suddenly sharpened,
examines, gnaws on kind words unsaid,
promised walks never taken.
Great souls die and our reality,
bound to them, takes leave of us.
Our souls, dependent upon their nurture,
now shrink, wizened.
Our minds, formed and informed by their
radiance, fall away.
We are not so much maddened as
reduced to the unutterable ignorance
of dark, cold
And when great souls die,
after a period peace blooms,
slowly and always irregularly. Spaces fill
with a kind of soothing electric vibration.
Our senses, restored, never to be the
same, whisper to us.
They existed. They existed.
We can be.
Be and be better. For they existed.
by Maya Angelou