Dream of the old man


The youngster was out of breath when he entered the room. Saluting the old man, he said:

- I’ve come by running, because you wished to see me uncle hajj (pilgrim) The old man hugged him with compassion and seated him on the sofa at the corner of the room.

- My dear Mehmed. You know that you’re my confidant, particularly as regards dreams. The youngster:

- I understand uncle hajj. You have seen a dream again. Have not you? The old man, looking out of the window, responded:

- My dreams have been scaring me. The one that I saw yesterday was about your family. The old man behaved indifferently, though he noticed that his guest was listening curiously. Sipping the water in the glass, he said quietly: - I’ve dreamt that someone in your house will die soon. In the past similar dreams of mine had proved to be true in a week. The Youngster;

- My uncle has been suffering from cancer. May ALLAH give him a long life? But he is fading away day by day.

The old man started to tell him in detail what had to be done from then on. Death was certainly an important event. But to save the “faith” was much more important. The Satan would try to cheat everybody in his / her death bad. He whispers to the ear of the dying person that there is no ALLAH, the Hereafter, Paradise and Hell so as to fill his / here heart with misgivings.

To put briefly, having a sound “faith” is indispensable in order not to be deceived by the Satan. It only took half an hour to determine the way to be followed. The dream of the old man should certainly be kept secret and the realities of faith be communicated to the patient as a gift of the last journey. After the suggestion of the old man had been accepted, the days turned into times of accelerated training.

Mehmed was telling his uncle that ALLAH truly existed, Muhammad was His apostle and that the revival would surely take place. The youngster was confident that his uncle would deserve redemption through these realities, many of which were new to him. The dream came true after a week… When he was placing the dead body of the youngster in the grave, the old man was crying.

- My dear Mehmed… he sobbed. My blessed son, how in the world could I tell you that it was you whom I dreamt of.

by Cüneyd Suavi
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