The Boy Who Waited for Milk and Dates

DAILYREFLECTION

Before he was Imam Al Shafi‘i, he was just a boy in Makkah with his mother, wondering what they would eat that night.

They had no steady income. His mother had brought him to Makkah for one reason. She wanted her son to seek knowledge of Allah and His Messenger ﷺ. That meant long days in circles of Qur’an and hadith, not long days chasing work.

So he learned to live simply. He gathered wood. He picked up whatever small necessities he could. But most of the time, he and his mother survived on gifts.

He said that every evening, after a day of study, he and his mother would look at each other and quietly wonder what Allah would send them that night. Sometimes it was one glass of milk, which they shared. Sometimes it was a single date, which they split in half.

There was no complaint in that house. Only trust. The same boy who lived like this became, by fifteen, certified by the mufti of Makkah. The imam whose fiqh spread across the world was once a child who went to sleep not knowing where dinner would come from, except that it would come from Allah.

His mother often stopped him when he wanted to spend more time trying to earn. “You focus on what I brought you here for. I will take care of the rest. Allah will take care of us.”

There is something very tender in that picture. A mother who sacrifices so her child can seek knowledge. A child who accepts a life of scraping and hunger, so his heart can stay in the masjid and the study circle. A small home where the menu changes only because different people remember you with different gifts.

It is easy to see the greatness of Imam Al Shafi‘i as something distant. A name on book covers. A madhhab. A towering scholar. It is harder, but more important, to remember the quiet details that made that life possible.

Someone who shared their bread.
Someone who thought to send dates.
Someone who poured a little milk into a cup and said, “Take this to the boy and his mother.”

For years, the house of Imam Al Shafi‘i was carried by these small acts of feeding.

There are still homes like that today. Students of knowledge. Single mothers. Families who make du‘a before Maghrib, not knowing what will be on the table, only that Allah is Al Razzaq.

It is worth remembering that some of the most beautiful lives in our history were built on other people’s quiet generosity, one meal at a time.

REFLECT ON THIS:

Who in our life right now is living “like the birds” with quiet trust in Allah, and what is one concrete way we can become part of the unseen generosity that carries them?

^{Share your reflections in the poll at the end of the email.}

WATERMELONWATCH

• Israel’s war is pushing children as young as eight into street work and dangerous jobs to support families after losing parents and homes, but local volunteers and education groups are carving out hours of informal lessons in tents and shelters so these same children do not lose all hope of schooling.

• Heavy rains have flooded thousands of makeshift tents and even field hospitals, soaking bedding and few remaining possessions just as winter begins, while aid agencies like the IRC race to deliver winter kits, food and clean water and warn the world that a real surge in assistance could still prevent many cold-related deaths.

• UN agencies say Gaza’s fuel supplies remain at “critical” levels, threatening hospitals, water pumps and bakeries even under a ceasefire that has already seen hundreds of Palestinians killed by ongoing Israeli violations, yet a joint UN operations push is prioritizing scarce fuel to neonatal wards, dialysis units and desalination plants to keep the most life-saving services running.

• UN situation reports show that most school buildings are destroyed or used as shelters, but UNICEF, UNRWA and partners have opened dozens of Temporary Learning Spaces in camps and rubble-lined streets, giving tens of thousands of children a few hours a day of lessons, play and psychosocial support in simple canvas classrooms.

• A Gaza family separated when 10-year-old Abdullah was evacuated to Italy for cancer treatment now waits on bone-marrow test results that could reunite them, a reminder that even in a shattered health system, medical corridors, host communities and donor registries are quietly stitching together chances for Gazan patients to survive and heal.

QURANCORNER

عباد — (ʿIbād) Servants / Worshippers

From the root ع–ب–د (ʿ-b-d), meaning to serve, to worship, or to submit, ʿibād is the plural of ʿabd (servant). In the Qur’an, it refers to those who belong to Allah, whether all of creation in general or the righteous who obey Him. It reminds us that true honor comes not from power or status, but from being devoted servants of our Lord.