In the Name of Allah

"In the Name of Allah the Compassionate, the Merciful…."

The boy's beautiful voice filled the room with the recitation of Surat Mariam. His mother sat listening with reverence, totally absorbed in the young voice chanting the words of God. How proud she was .that her own son had been blessed with such an angelic voice. How often had he made grown men cry with his impassioned recitation? How many times had he softened hard hearts while praising the beloved Prophet (PBU)?

"O Yahya, hold fast the Book.’ And We gave him wisdom while yet a child…"

She remembered when her father had discovered the gift that God had blessed his grandson with and had made sure to give him proper training with one of the famous Chanters in their town. She recalled how her boy sat in this very same room, day after day reciting and chanting over and over again the many verses of the Holy Quran. How she had fretted and worried about him when his grandfather had taken him from village to village, town to town, so that others would be blessed to hear the purity of his voice in praise and supplication to God.

"And tenderness of heart from Ourself, and purity. And he was pious…"

How proud she had felt when visitors had flocked to their home just to listen to her boy. She recalled the shy smile on her son's face when hearing the words of praise and adoration from his audience and admirers. What a future he had ahead of him as a great chanter.

"And dutiful toward his parents. And he was not haughty and rebellious…"

She closed her eyes as his sweet voice floated through the room, giving her a sense of peace, tranquility and deep love…of acceptance and resignation to the will of the Almighty.

"And peace was on him the day he was born, and the day he died, and peace there will be on him the day he will be raised up to life again."

Suddenly the recitation stopped. She opened her eyes feeling a pang of anxiety as her heart skipped a beat. She stared with apprehension at the silent tape recorder. Her shaking hand slowly and cautiously removed the tape.  Thank God…it didn't seem to be damaged. She placed a soft kiss on it with her lips, then pressed it close to her heart. This is all she had left of her son …a small tape that carried his voice…and her soul. 

"In the name of Alllah…" she whispered as she carefully reinserted the tape and  pressed the "rewind" button. Yes, it was working properly. Then she pressed "Play". She sighed with relief, holding back a tear.  A quiet sadness echoed in the room as once again the soft captivating recitation of the beloved voice flowed gently from the old tape recorder…..

"In the Name of Allah… the Compassionate … the Merciful…."