The Boy Who Spoke to the Moon

A boy who spoke to the month

in a small desert village between two large sand dunes lived in Idris, a young name. He had no mother or father - a quiet corner of the Masjid and Star Society.

He did not remember his parents. Villagers said their mother was born under a full moon, and their father was soon taken to a fever. Since then, the mosque's imam raised him, feeding him almost enough to save him, and taught him how friendly he is to the Quran. It's true, but the few nights were still too long. It's too empty.

Idris said, It became his quiet friend, his listener.

"Did you meet my mother today, Yallah? Does she smile at Janna?"

or sometimes

"Do I think I have a real family?"

never answered in the month of

, but his light was always not a bit.

Passed like grains of sand, fingers slipped off. Idris grew louder and his voice deeper. But he was still climbing the roof. I still spoke to the moon. Until then, he had memorised many prayers, and when he recited under the night sky, he even seemed to pause the wind. One night, when he was about 15 years old, a sandstorm hit unexpectedly. The winds looked like animals, and the sky became orange and cruel. The villagers rushed inside. Imam was called to Idris, but he was not found anywhere.

He was on the roof.

Catch.

When the storm was furious, Idris rolled himself, the ceiling wrapped tightly, his eyes closed, and his heart slapping. The world was noisy, angry and confused.

Then - silence. For a while. So it was like someone had pushed the storm into a break.

, and the voice. It's calm, deep, and transparent.

The wind and water are mixed with mercy.

_ "idris ... why are you waiting for the moon? _

His eyes opened. The moon was shining more than ever - so bright, it set the whole village on fire. He sat and sucked his neck.

"Who... Who is there?"

_ "I don't know me, a child? When no one did it, I put you on you. I have led the Imam to feed you. I put her heart into patience. When you recite my words, I place a light on your tongue. "_

Tears flocked Idris' face.

_"I'm closer to you than your jugular vein. "_

The light slowly faded away. The storm was back, but Idris was no longer afraid of him.

He climbed the next morning, surrounded by sand in his hair, and his eyes widened with adoration. The villagers hugged him, and Imam cried out Ahrelief's tears.

Idris has not spoken about what happened over the weeks. He kept it like a treasure in his heart - a secret between him and his Lord.

, but something has changed.

He helped clean the Masjids, taught the young children, and led Sarah when the Imam got sick. People noticed his calm and his tranquility.

One night, a travel dealer visited the village. His caravan rested in the evening and when he joined them for Maghriv's prayers he saw how Idris recited wonderfully.

After Salah, the dealer approached him. "Your voice, young man - it's wearing something unusual. Baraka. Do you teach the Quran?"

Idris heheed: "Only for the children here."

The man smiled. "Would you come with me? In a nearby city. I lead a school for orphans. You need someone like you. "

Idris simply saw an imam nodded. Now it's their turn to lead others."

years later, Idris became known as *Ustad Idris*, the beloved teacher of all cities. everytime. Even if the sky is quiet, it's not.

Nights, when he missed the roof as a child, he went alone under the stars and whispered:

_ "YA Allah...Thank you for answering the boy who was talking to the moon."