God Is Truly the Provider

I was sitting in Haji Sahib’s spacious drawing room, waiting for him to arrive. As I looked around, I noticed expensive decorative items, a fine globe, a large colorful television, a beautiful telephone, and artificial vines attached to the walls. The furniture was of high quality, and the sofas were so soft that one almost sank into them.

While I was observing the room, a servant arrived, pushing a trolley and serving tea and refreshments. He simply said that Haji Sahib was on his way and asked me to help myself.

Haji Sahib’s full name was Muhammad Ashraf. He had performed Hajj many times, which is why he became widely known as Haji Sahib. Today, only a few people know his real name. I had a casual acquaintance with one of his sons. He was my class fellow, a sincere and kind-hearted person. Whenever we met at any function or gathering, he would warmly share his thoughts and feelings.

Some time ago, he told me that his father had distributed all his property—factories, lands, and assets—among his children and had freed himself from worldly responsibilities to devote his time entirely to the remembrance of Allah.

Then, three or four years later, he informed me that his father had taken a few hundred thousand rupees from his sons and had once again started a business, becoming busy with worldly affairs. This surprised me more than it surprised him, because Allah Almighty had bestowed immense blessings upon Haji Sahib.

His fame extended far and wide. Whoever he prayed for, or gave medicine or supplications to, Allah would grant relief by His grace. Many devotees wanted to serve him with money, but Haji Sahib never accepted it. He would only advise them to pray and offer regular prayers.

Those who write have a particular trait that ordinary people often ignore—we are curious about everything. That curiosity brought me to Haji Sahib’s drawing room that day, after seeking an appointment.

After some time, Haji Sahib arrived. He greeted me warmly and asked, “Yes, tell me—why have you come?”

I replied, “I had a strong desire to meet you, so I came.”

His face was radiant, with a white beard and a turban on his head, which suited him beautifully. I said, “Haji Sahib, what was the reason that you first distributed all your property and devoted yourself to worship, but later became involved in worldly matters again?”

Haji Sahib replied, “My son, there was a secret in that decision, and there is a secret in this one as well.”

“What is that?” I asked eagerly.

He smiled and said, “I have mentioned this before in a gathering, and today I will share it with you again. After hearing it, decide for yourself which decision was right—the first or the second.

“One day, I was calculating accounts in my warehouse when I saw a dog dragging its hind legs as it entered the store. At first, I thought of chasing it away, but then I reflected that it was injured and had come seeking shelter. So I left it alone.

“Suddenly, a thought crossed my mind: Allah is the Provider. Let me see how He provides sustenance to this dog, or whether it will die of hunger. With this thought, I sat quietly.

“When dusk fell, an astonishing scene unfolded before my eyes. Another dog came carrying a piece of meat in its mouth and began feeding the injured dog. Involuntarily, I exclaimed, ‘Glory be to You, O Lord!’ and returned home.

“This incident had such a deep impact on me that I thought: if Allah can provide sustenance to this dog without any effort or struggle on its part, why would He not provide for me? That was when I distributed my entire business and property among my children and devoted myself to Allah.”

I asked in astonishment, “Then why did you become involved in worldly affairs again? Did your faith in Allah weaken?”

Haji Sahib laughed and said, “I narrated this incident in a gathering once, and a man rendered me speechless. He said, ‘Haji Sahib, you compared yourself to the injured dog that was being fed. Why did you not compare yourself to the dog that became the means of providing food?’”

Hearing this, I was stunned.

“Indeed,” Haji Sahib continued, “why should I not resemble the dog that became a means? That very day, I took a few hundred thousand rupees from my children and established a cottage industry.

“In my view, this is far superior to any voluntary form of worship. Through this means, nearly seven hundred families are being supported.”

As I heard this, tears welled up in my eyes. O Lord! Through one person, seven hundred families are being sustained. May Allah grant our investors the ability to perform such good deeds as well, that they may think of the Hereafter. May Allah make us perfect Muslims. Ameen.