Believers Are Like One Body | Mufti Abdul Wahab Waheed | Miftaah Circle

By Shaykh Abdullah Waheed, Shaykh Mohamed Almasmari, Mufti Abdul Wahab Waheed | 2026-07-30T16:37:55.239486+00:00 | Topic: Community

Believers Are Like One Body

The reality of believers is the same as an ecosystem.

الْمُؤْمِنُونَ كَالْجَسَدِ الْوَاحِدِ، إِذَا اشْتَكَى مِنْهُ عُضْوٌ تَدَاعَى لَهُ سَائِرُ الْجَسَدِ بِالسَّهَرِ وَالْحُمَّى

Where the Prophet of Allah ﷺ says: Believers are like one body. If the eye of one person hurts, his entire body is in pain. If his head begins to hurt, his entire body is hurting, is in pain — because the human body cannot separate the pain.

Similarly, he says, believers are an ecosystem. That the presence of happiness in one part of the world, that believers are enjoying, will definitely create happiness within our home. Because we are an ecosystem, and the trauma, and the grief, and the cries, and the yelling, and the screaming, in different parts of the world like Palestine, will absolutely create grief within us. Because we belong in an ecosystem.

And if we're sitting here today, and we're to say that I don't feel anything, I don't feel like there is a loss of joy, I don't feel like there is true grief, I don't feel the pain, I don't feel like my heartbeat has changed — then the question that we must ask ourselves is: are we even a part of that ecosystem? Are we even a part of it? Because if we don't feel loss due to our counterpart feeling loss, perhaps we're not even a part of it.

Ask a mother, whose pain is not felt by her daughter and son. She at times feels like she has no children. Because there's no one to empathize with her pain. Ask a sibling, who has no siblings to empathize with their pain — do they even feel like there's anyone there for them?

If our heartbeat does not change — in the way that we eat our food, in the way that we sleep at night, in the way that we make our du'as, in the way that we move through our lives — if it is unaffected, and everything remains the same, perhaps we're just simply not a part of that ecosystem. And we're not one body. We're outside of that structure.

The DNA of Our Heart

The ecosystem of believers has nothing to do with where we came from, how we look, the color of our skin, or the economic background that we hold. Our ecosystem has everything to do with the fact that the DNA of our heart is the same — that our heart beats:

لَا إِلَهَ إِلَّا اللَّهُ مُحَمَّدٌ رَسُولُ اللَّهِ

This brings us together. And when we are a part of this, we realize that whatever is happening there is also affecting us. And we empathize, and we connect the dots. The Prophet ﷺ speaks about the concept that we know for sure: today they're struggling, tomorrow a day will come in our own families where we will struggle.

The Reality of Loss

Ask someone who has had to bury a loved one — a sibling, a child, a spouse, a parent — how it feels when they put that person down to rest.

Three years ago, I lost my younger brother, who was 22 years old, in a car accident. We're five brothers — he was the youngest. We had to tell our parents that one of their five children had left the world. And someone had to call that father and say:

"Abu Jee, you made five kids hafiz — Allah gives you Jannah. You made five of them scholars — Allah will give you Jannah. But Abu Jee, we're giving you the glad tidings that Allah will give you the greatest Jannah, because one of your kids has become shaheed. Glad tidings to you. Glad tidings to you."

The father's response can never be expressed through any words, because the hearts don't have words that can translate their pain. If this is the reaction of a brother who's lost one brother, and a father who has lost one son — imagine the heart of the people who have lost their entire families.

The Default State of Life

We will live through pain. Imam al-Ghazali says:

أَصْلُ الدُّنْيَا الْبَلَاءُ

That the default state of life is difficulty, and the concessions are happiness and joy. We have started to believe that the default is happiness and the default is joy.

Unveil the life of the Prophet ﷺ and look at it without bias. And if you look at it and try to gauge whether this man lived a happy life, you'd be hard pressed to say that he was happy. How could a person be happy if he had to bury six of his seven children, born without a father, losing his mother at the age of five? He wasn't a happy person — he was a person who was content with life.

The command of Allah in the Qur'an — not even once to believers, outside of the fact that we're Muslims — is to be happy. That is not the goal of the structure of life. That is a simple concession. However, He does command us to be grateful. Gratitude is not an option — gratitude is a necessary component of remaining alive.

مَوْتُنَا مِنَ الْحُزْنِ

We will die out of sadness and grief without it. Gratitude is a necessary component to keep us moving in this thing we call life.

The Rights of Believers Upon One Another

The reality of this world is: today, they're struggling. Tomorrow, we will also struggle. We will also go through something. We will also suffer pain and loss. And if we don't identify the reality of our community as one body, then perhaps there may not be too many shoulders to cry upon.

How is it so — or why is it so — that we need atrocities around the world to remind us that we are one body? Was it not enough that when our neighbor passed away, it should have reminded us: a believer has left this world, I should go to their janazah? Was it not enough for an elder in our community to be diagnosed with cancer, for us to say: it is the right of believers upon believers that we visit the sick?

We accept more wedding invitations than we do janazahs — because wedding invitations give us, and janazahs take from us. The right of a believer is not to go to their wedding. The right of a believer is to go to their janazah. To be present with their family in the moment of that difficulty.

When was the last time we simply said: someone lost a loved one that I know, I will call them, I will text them? These are the rights of believers upon believers. These are not acts that are merely encouraged. These are acts that are necessary.

Why are atrocities necessary for us to remind ourselves that the pain that mother is feeling, who has lost her son, is as real as any pain across the world? Maybe I should just go visit her, and say salam to her.

Principles Over Emotions

How was the Prophet's ﷺ community able to consolidate in the face of the most traumatic events, and become one body? How were they able to remain so strong while being so broken? How were they able to remain so rich though they were so poor? How were they able to keep smiles on their faces while their hearts were shattered?

Jarir ibn Abdullah says: there was not a moment in my life where I looked at the Prophet ﷺ except that he was smiling at me. That smile was not a reminder of him being happy. We say, "I can only smile because I'm happy." Our emotions dictate our responses — if I don't feel good, I'm not going to smile at you; if I don't feel well, I'm not going to shake your hand.

However, maturity and consistency means that our responses will be dictated by our principles — that regardless of what happens, the Prophet ﷺ is still smiling. He's buried his daughter Zainab. He's still smiling. His son Ibrahim leaves this world, and his eyes are tearing and his beard is wet to the point that Abdurrahman ibn Awf looks at him and says:

أَوَأَنْتَ يَا رَسُولَ اللَّهِ؟

"You feel such pain as well? You also experience this?" The Prophet ﷺ says:

نَعَمْ، الْعَيْنُ تَدْمَعُ وَالْقَلْبُ يَحْزَنُ وَلَا نَقُولُ إِلَّا بِمَا يُرْضِي رَبَّنَا

(Sahih al-Bukhari, Hadith 1303)

"Yes — the eyes tear and the hearts yearn, but the tongue will never falter in saying except that which brings Allah's pleasure."

It's real. However, he gets up the next day and he's smiling at the people around him, because he understands that his smile means the world to people. He didn't smile because he was happy. He smiled because he knew how much happiness it brought into the world.

Don't let our emotions create gloom. Don't mask your emotions — but don't let them be the reason someone comes to you and says, "What's wrong? Why are you so down and sulking?" Allah describes a certain quality in the Qur'an:

۞ إِنَّ ٱلْإِنسَٰنَ خُلِقَ هَلُوعًا إِذَا مَسَّهُ ٱلشَّرُّ جَزُوعًۭا وَإِذَا مَسَّهُ ٱلْخَيْرُ مَنُوعًا

Allah describes this quality — that when they're simply touched with difficulty and calamity, they let the world around them feel as though they're drowning in the waves of the oceans. No — we stand up and we still smile. We don't allow our emotions to dictate our responses. As parents, as youngsters, as spouses — our response will be dictated by our principles. They went through so much, but their responses didn't change.

The people of Gaza — their alhamdulillah is the same. But if we were able to open up their hearts and see the pain inside, we would not have words to describe it. Do not let their words make it seem like the pain is any less. The mother who loses a child will still say:

لِلَّهِ مَا أَعْطَى وَلِلَّهِ مَا أَخَذَ

(Sahih al-Bukhari, Hadith 1284; Sahih Muslim, Hadith 923)

"For Allah is what He gave, and for Allah is what He takes. He never belonged to us anyway."

The pain in this world is only seen to be pain because we believe the world is all we have to live for.

The Disease of Wahn

When the Prophet ﷺ reminded the sahabas that a time will come when they will be jumped and driven by different forces, the sahabas said:

أَوَمِنْ قِلَّةٍ نَحْنُ يَا رَسُولَ اللَّهِ؟

"Is it because we are few in number, O Messenger of Allah?" And the Prophet ﷺ said:

بَلْ أَنْتُمْ يَوْمَئِذٍ كَثِيرٌ، وَلَكِنَّكُمْ غُثَاءٌ كَغُثَاءِ السَّيْلِ، وَلَيَنْزِعَنَّ اللَّهُ مِنْ صُدُورِ عَدُوِّكُمُ الْمَهَابَةَ مِنْكُمْ، وَلَيَقْذِفَنَّ اللَّهُ فِي قُلُوبِكُمُ الْوَهَنَ

(Sunan Abu Dawud, Hadith 4297)

"No — on that day you will be many in number." They asked, "Ya Rasulallah, how is it possible that we can be pushed around if we're more in number?" And he said: "Because of wahn." The sahabas asked, "What is wahn, Ya Rasulallah?" And the response was:

حُبُّ الدُّنْيَا وَكَرَاهِيَةُ الْمَوْتِ

That we started having this infatuation with life — loving life beyond the need of loving life — simply seeing it to be a bridge that leads us towards our Prophet ﷺ. And disliking death. The Prophet ﷺ said:

مَنْ أَحَبَّ لِقَاءَ اللَّهِ أَحَبَّ اللَّهُ لِقَاءَهُ، وَمَنْ كَرِهَ لِقَاءَ اللَّهِ كَرِهَ اللَّهُ لِقَاءَهُ

(Sahih al-Bukhari, Hadith 6507; Sahih Muslim, Hadith 2683)

"Whosoever loves to meet Allah, Allah also loves to meet them. Whosoever dislikes to meet Allah, Allah doesn't want to meet them either."

True Empathy

We empathize with our community. Empathy is necessary. A sense of feel — a sense that the heart does quake at their pain. If we wish for people to be involved in our moments of difficulty, we must be involved in their moments of difficulty.

If we only want to be invited for their moments of happiness — "I don't want to call this person. Why not? Because he's going through a lot." That is when you need to call them. Why would you only call them when they're happy? Call them now. That's when they need it.

"But it takes too much of my psychological reserve. It brings my entire day down." So what? If one night of our life is difficult to sleep because of what we're seeing — so what? It actually reminds us that we are believers, and we are a body that lives together and feels the pain of one another.

The Battle of Mu'tah: The Prophet's Empathy in Action

The Prophet ﷺ — and I'll share this one story and wrap up — to show how the Prophet ﷺ empathized with the pain of his community. Why were the sahabas always present for the Prophet's pain? It was simply because he was always present for their pain. Before they could turn their faces around, the Prophet ﷺ already had his hand on their shoulders.

He never needed to say to someone, "I'm doing this for you." That kind of statement carries a component of self-righteousness — allowing ourselves to feel more meritorious than we actually are. "I'm standing for Palestine. I'm donating for Palestine. I'm going to a rally for Palestine. I'm praying tahajjud for Palestine. I'm making du'a for Palestine."

No, brothers and sisters — we're doing it for ourselves. Our du'a benefits us. Our prayer benefits us. Our charity benefits us. Our tears benefit us. The moment we believe that what we're doing is something that benefits others, half of the intentionality of it is already gone. It benefits us. They don't need us. We need them.

Their pain allowed us to feel pious today. Imagine if we had to experience that pain in our own home — how difficult would that be? Allah gave us a shortcut — He brought pain to others for us to recognize the blessing of being able to cry at night. There are people who have never been able to cry in front of Allah. It's a blessing to cry in front of Allah. It's a blessing to allow these tears to rush down your cheeks.

The Prophet of Allah ﷺ is sitting during the Battle of Mu'tah. It was a very difficult battle where the Prophet ﷺ sent three sahabas to be the leaders of the army — amongst them was Zayd ibn Harithah, the second being Ja'far ibn Abi Talib, and the third being Abdullah ibn Rawahah. Each of these three became shaheed.

The Prophet of Allah ﷺ is sitting in Madinah al-Munawwarah, and the sahabas are all around him:

فَكُشِفَ الْحِجَابُ

And Allah has removed the veils between him and what is happening with the Muslims in their battle with the Romans. And the Prophet ﷺ is sitting in Madinah watching the battle unfold in front of him — and he's giving commentary on it. Like how we're watching the pain of Gaza unfold, he's seeing it take place.

As he's watching, he says: "Zayd ibn Harithah has taken the flag. Zayd ibn Harithah is rushing to the battlefield. Zayd ibn Harithah is fighting with such bravery, moving to the flanks of the enemies." And then he says:

اسْتُشْهِدَ زَيْدٌ

"Zayd has become shaheed." And Aisha رضي الله عنها says: the Prophet of Allah ﷺ was standing as he narrated what was happening. And the moment he says, "Zayd has become shaheed," his legs begin to shake. Because we're a body — our pain is real for one another if we're a part of that ecosystem. And if that pain isn't felt, my dear friend, I'm not a part of that ecosystem.

We have to ask ourselves: how do I get back into that system? How do I get back into a system that can teach me how to soften my heart? That can teach me how to let some tears come down my cheeks — not just because of the loss of my own family, but because of the loss felt by this body?

His cheeks turn pale. He's unable to stand. He sits down, looks down, and begins to cry. Zayd ibn Harithah was the Prophet's ﷺ son that he brought into his life — that child whose father searched for him for five years, and upon finally finding him, Zayd said:

رَأَيْتُ فِي هَذَا الرَّجُلِ مَا لَمْ أَرَ فِي أَحَدٍ

"I have seen in this man that which I have not seen in anybody else. If you bring the entirety of this world to me, I will never leave Muhammad ﷺ."

Ja'far al-Tayyar

Then the Prophet ﷺ stands back up and says, "Ja'far has taken the flag." Ja'far was the Prophet's ﷺ cousin. At the time of Khaybar, when the Prophet ﷺ conquered the entire land and the forts — on that day, when the Muslims finally saw wealth for the first time and there was happiness in the air — he sees a convoy returning. The dust settles. Ja'far ibn Abi Talib comes off his animal. He had been in Habesha for 12 years. The Prophet's cousin — 12 years.

He descends his animal and comes close to the Prophet ﷺ. The Prophet ﷺ stands to honor him:

فَقَبَّلَ بَيْنَ عَيْنَيْهِ وَضَمَّهُ ضَمَّةً شَدِيدَةً

He kisses him between his eyes and hugs him with such love and intensity. And then he says:

مَا أَدْرِي بِأَيِّهِمَا أَفْرَحُ، بِفَتْحِ خَيْبَرَ أَمْ بِرُجُوعِ جَعْفَرٍ؟

(Reported in Musnad Ahmad and other collections)

Imagine the Prophet ﷺ saying this statement about you or I: "I don't know what brings me more happiness — the conquest of the fortress of Khaybar or the return of Ja'far. I love you, Ja'far."

And one year later — one year later — he sends him on a journey, to become shaheed. Because they understood that our talents and our blessings were used to honor Allah's name, used to honor the Deen of Allah. Today we've used all of our talents and our energy and our blessings only to uplift our own name — so that we leave a gathering and people know our name. So what if they know our name? Tomorrow they'll forget it.

The Muqarrir and the Da'i

My father used to always remind us brothers of the difference between, in Arabic, a Muqarrir and a Da'i. A Muqarrir is what you call a speaker. And a Da'i is a caller towards Allah. He would remind us this every single time he gave a talk — and he would quote Shaykh Yusuf al-Qaradawi rahimahullah, a great scholar.

The biggest difference, he would say, is this: when a Muqarrir leaves a gathering, people speak about him or her. And when a Da'i leaves a gathering, people speak about what they spoke of. When a Muqarrir leaves, they say, "Wow, Miftaah was great. Wow, the conference was nice." And when a Da'i leaves, they say, "I don't know who put the event together, but I feel closer to Allah. I feel closer to the sunnah of the Prophet ﷺ. My heart feels more connected to Allah."

Wallahi, there is no benefit in leaving this gathering knowing the name of Miftaah, but not feeling closer to the people of Gaza, not feeling closer to Allah. Everything we do is always to highlight us. However, the reality of our talent is:

وَأَمَّا بِنِعْمَةِ رَبِّكَ فَحَدِّثْ

Use it to highlight Allah. Use it to highlight the Deen.

Qarun vs. Suleiman: How We Receive Blessings

Why is it so that when anything good happens to us in our life and people ask, "How did you become who you've become? How'd you get your master's degree? How'd you become a physician? How'd you buy such a big house?" — the response begins with the Qaruni response: "I earned a lot of money. I worked very hard. My parents gave me a great education. My culture helped me."

The difference between the wealth of Qarun and Suleiman was not their wealth — it was their response in how they received it. Qarun would say:

قَالَ إِنَّمَآ أُوتِيتُهُۥ عَلَىٰ عِلْمٍ عِندِىٓ ۚ أَوَلَمْ يَعْلَمْ أَنَّ ٱللَّهَ قَدْ أَهْلَكَ مِن قَبْلِهِۦ مِنَ ٱلْقُرُونِ مَنْ هُوَ أَشَدُّ مِنْهُ قُوَّةًۭ وَأَكْثَرُ جَمْعًۭا ۚ وَلَا يُسْـَٔلُ عَن ذُنُوبِهِمُ ٱلْمُجْرِمُونَ

"I received it because of who I am." And Suleiman would say: "I received it because Allah gave it to me."

And anything negative that happens to us — "Why don't you have a bigger house? Why didn't you get accepted to this program?" — it's referred back to our beautiful religion: "It's haram to take riba in Islam, so I can't buy a big house. It's haram to network with alcohol, so I wasn't able to get a promotion." Every negative thing is referred back to our religion, and every positive thing is referred back to our flawed selves. Well, how will people honor our religion if we — the holders of it — don't honor it ourselves?

The Shahada of Ja'far

The Prophet ﷺ sees Ja'far after 12 years, and one year later he says, "Go to Mu'tah." Now imagine what's happening to the Prophet ﷺ as he's seeing the battle unfold. Ja'far rushes into the battlefield. One arm is cut off. The Prophet ﷺ says, "Ja'far holds the flag with his other arm." His left arm is cut off. "Ja'far is still holding the flag." And the commentary continues.

One of our teachers — Shaykh Ashraf al-Raitani — a great scholar — comments: when we're watching or reading about oppression, we should be respectful and silent in the same way we are when we hear the Qur'an being recited. Honor what's happening to them. Don't just watch it and in the next moment scroll to a video on your Instagram feed. Let it settle. Let it sink. Let it have an impact.

The Prophet ﷺ finally says:

اسْتُشْهِدَ جَعْفَرٌ

"Ja'far has become shaheed." The same Ja'far that he looked forward to seeing for so long. The same Ja'far that he loved to the extent that he kissed him in front of everyone.

The Meeting That Awaits

Dear friends, before we leave this gathering — we were never fortunate enough to be even the clouds that shaded the Prophet ﷺ. We were not fortunate enough to even be the sand that his blessed feet walked upon. We were not fortunate enough to be the mule that he rode, or the dates that he tasted, or the trees that he used to give khutbah next to. We didn't have that good fortune.

But what we do have is this: if we live with the sunnah of the Prophet ﷺ in our life, there will be a moment on the Day of Judgment where he will meet us with the same hug that he met Ja'far with. And that is why the sahabas were ready for death to come.

When Bilal رضي الله عنه was leaving this world, and his wife looked at him and said:

وَاحُزْنَاهُ!

"What a day of grief!" — that the mu'adhin of the Prophet ﷺ, the great Bilal, is leaving this world. He regains his consciousness, looks at his wife, and says:

لَا تَقُولِي هَكَذَا، وَلَكِنْ قُولِي: وَافَرَحَاهُ! غَدًا نَلْقَى مُحَمَّدًا وَحِزْبَهُ

"Don't you dare say that. Rather you should say: what a pleasant day it is! What a happy day it is! Because tomorrow I will meet the Prophet and my companions once again."

Their death was met with joy because of the new beginning they knew they were going to receive. We're only afraid of a foreign place because it remains foreign. And the moment the foreignness of something is taken away, we're not afraid anymore. This is why Allah says in the Qur'an:

نَحْنُ أَوْلِيَآؤُكُمْ فِى ٱلْحَيَوٰةِ ٱلدُّنْيَا وَفِى ٱلْءَاخِرَةِ ۖ وَلَكُمْ فِيهَا مَا تَشْتَهِىٓ أَنفُسُكُمْ وَلَكُمْ فِيهَا مَا تَدَّعُونَ

"We are your best friends while you were in this world, and We will continue being your best friends in the Akhirah."

Empathy, Not Sympathy

The Prophet ﷺ says Ja'far has become shaheed — and he goes himself, empathizing, to the house of Asma رضي الله عنها, the wife of Ja'far. He knocks on the door and sees the children of Ja'far running around. His wife says to the Prophet ﷺ, "Which glad tidings are you coming with?" And the Prophet ﷺ says: "I come to you with the glad tidings of martyrdom. Your husband has become shaheed."

Asma passes out. She loses consciousness and faints. When she's brought back to consciousness, she says, "Ya Rasulallah, please tell me what happened?" And the Prophet ﷺ narrates the story and says: "Your husband lost his arms in this world. But don't you worry, oh my sister. Today his nickname, echoing through the heavens, is Ja'far al-Tayyar — Ja'far who has been given wings, because he is flying in the heavens."

فَرِحِينَ بِمَآ ءَاتَىٰهُمُ ٱللَّهُ مِن فَضْلِهِۦ وَيَسْتَبْشِرُونَ بِٱلَّذِينَ لَمْ يَلْحَقُوا۟ بِهِم مِّنْ خَلْفِهِمْ أَلَّا خَوْفٌ عَلَيْهِمْ وَلَا هُمْ يَحْزَنُونَ

We don't want to be people whose names are echoed in the chambers of this world. We want to be like Bilal — that when the Prophet ﷺ was on his journey of Mi'raj and being given a tour of Jannah, he heard footsteps. He said to Jibreel, "Whose footsteps are these?" And Jibreel responded: "These are the footsteps of Bilal." And Bilal was still living on this earth, but his footsteps were being heard in Jannah.

The Prophet ﷺ came back and said, "Oh Bilal, what do you do that your footsteps are being heard in Jannah?" In one narration he says, "I forgive everyone before sleeping." In a second he simply says, "Before I sleep, I pray two rak'ah every single night."

How is it so that the Prophet ﷺ sees a palace in Jannah and starts to go forth, and Jibreel says, "This is a palace for a youngster of Quraysh" — the Prophet ﷺ proceeds, thinking he is young and from Quraysh — and Jibreel holds him and says: "This palace actually belongs to Umar." How is it so that they are living on this earth, but their names are so well known in the heavens that they already own real estate? Because they lived for akhira. They did not live for dunya.

The Prophet ﷺ then tells Fatimah رضي الله عنها, "You take these kids as your own." And he tells Aisha رضي الله عنها, "Take care of Asma — she is your own sister."

Sympathy is what the world gives one another. Empathy is what Muslims give one another. Sympathy is simply saying, "I feel your pain." Empathy is what the Prophet ﷺ introduced to this world. He said, "I don't simply feel your pain — I am right by your side while you struggle through your pain."

He wasn't ready to miss a janazah. That even when an elderly lady passed away in the masjid — who used to sweep the masjid, whose name is unknown — when she left this world, the Prophet of Allah ﷺ found out and said, "Where is this lady?" They said, "Ya Rasulallah, she's passed away." The Prophet ﷺ then said, "Let's pray janazah." They said, "We've already prayed janazah." The Prophet ﷺ got upset: "You prayed janazah on her without me? Without telling me?"

Empathy is real. Sympathy is a tick on a box. We don't simply say the words we say because they are formalities we have to follow — we say what we say because we feel it.

Calculated Relationships vs. True Connection

Today, even our handshakes have become formalities. Shaking someone's hand and hugging them for the sake of simply doing it is extremely rare. Meeting someone outside of a formality is extremely rare. And dare I say, giving gifts to your own parents outside of formalities is even rare. That the formality of something which was supposed to be a source of love has removed the objective of it — now we only gift when it's a formality, and hence there's no real love being transferred.

Our handshakes are calculated. Our relationships are calculated — not based upon how much we can give a person, but based upon how much we can get from them. We calculate our handshakes. We calculate our smiles. We can never say we don't smile — we just simply contain it to where it can benefit us, not where it can benefit people.

Our ummah was sent as givers, not receivers.

الْيَدُ الْعُلْيَا خَيْرٌ مِنَ الْيَدِ السُّفْلَى

(Sahih al-Bukhari, Hadith 1427; Sahih Muslim, Hadith 1033)

"The hand that is above will always be superior to the hand that is below" — not simply because it gives money and gives time, but because it gives a portion of the heart.

May Allah allow us to be amongst those people who will always be givers. Our relationships will be like a nahlah. The Prophet ﷺ says:

الْمُؤْمِنُ كَالنَّحْلَةِ

"A believer is like a honeybee." Even when it takes from the flower, it still gives the flower something back. May Allah make us amongst those believers. Ameen.