Essex County Council

Support materials for

Religious Education

Key Stage 1

Z
MUSLIM STORIES

2

Z MUSLIM STORIES

I. Stories from the life of the Prophet Muhammad (arranged chronologically)

1.  Muhammad’s early years

2.  Muhammad grows up

3.  Muhammad and the angel’s message

4.  Muhammad is saved by a spider and a dove

5.  Qaswa the camel chooses the site of the first mosque

6.  Muhammad’s wonderful night journey

II. Stories illustrating the kindness of the Prophet Muhammad and Abu Bakr, his successor

-  Muhammad and the hungry stranger

-  Muhammad and the thirsty camel

-  Muhammad and the ants

-  Muhammad and the sleeping kitten

-  Abu Bakr sets Bilal free

I. Stories from the life of the Prophet Muhammad (arranged chronologically)

Muslims consider Muhammad (570 - 632 CE) to be the last and the greatest of all the prophets of Islam. Other Muslim prophets include Adam, Nuh (Noah), Ibrahim (Abraham), Musa (Moses), Dawud (David), Sulayman (Solomon), and Isa (Jesus). It is customary for Muslims to say ‘Salla-llahu Alaihi Wasallam’ (meaning ‘Peace and blessings of Allah be upon him’) every time Muhammad’s name is mentioned, and to say ‘Alaihi Salaam’ (meaning ‘Peace be upon him’) every time one of the other prophet’s name is spoken. In exploring stories about Muhammad, teachers need to be aware of two areas of sensitivity:

·  Muhammad should never be referred to as the ‘founder’ of Islam, or the one that ‘started’ Islam. Muslims believe that Allah was the sole founder of Islam.

·  Many Muslims would be offended if children were asked to draw pictures of Muhammad. In Islam, representational art is generally discouraged.

1. Muhammad’s early years

What sort of an animal do you think I am? I live in the hot sandy desert. I can go for days without drinking. I have got a big hump on my back!

That’s right! I am a camel! I am a camel that once lived in the far away land of Arabia.

Now the land of Arabia is very hot and very dry. It has sandy deserts that stretch as far as the eye can see, and further still. It has rocky mountains that reach high into the deep blue sky. And Arabia has villages and towns and cities.

One city in Arabia is very special. It is called Makkah. Today Makkah is full of big buildings and cars. But hundreds of years ago, when I was alive, the buildings in Makkah were mostly small and square-shaped, like boxes, and people rode on camels like me. That is what the city of Makkah was like when a little boy called Muhammad was born there.

As for myself, I didn’t live in the city of Makkah. Not at first anyway. I lived in the desert with the Bedouin people. The Bedouins looked after flocks of sheep and herds of goats. They lived in tents because they were always travelling to find pools of water and fresh grass for their animals. The Bedouins lived with sandstorms, scorching sun and cold dark nights under the stars. They were strong and brave and kind. They would take care of anyone, even an enemy. And it was the Bedouins who took care of little Muhammad.

Do you remember what I told you about Muhammad? He was born in the city of Makkah. Sadly Muhammad’s father, who was a man called Abdullah, died before Muhammad was born. In those days, many people living in Makkah paid the Bedouin people to care for their babies, and this is what happened to Muhammad. His mother, Aminah, gave money to the Bedouin people to look after her little boy.

And that is how I got to know Muhammad. Because I was a young camel myself, and not very big, the little boy seemed to like me. He was frightened of some of the grown-up camels, but he wasn’t at all frightened of me. He would often come over to me when I was tied up under the palm trees. He would look up at me and laugh. When he learned to speak, he would talk to me in the Arabic language. Sometimes he would reach up to stroke my hairy coat with his hand. Then the grown-ups would get worried. They would come over and take him away from me, and I would hear him crying because he wanted to stay with me.

Muhammad did not cry very often. Most of the time he was very happy, and his happiness seemed to spread to other people. He was gentle and kind, and all those that knew him loved him. I loved him too.

As Muhammad grew older, he had to take his turn looking after the sheep and goats.

I will never forget what happened on one particular day. I was tied up as usual under the palm trees when I saw something very strange. I could see Muhammad all alone with the sheep and the goats. Suddenly two strangers were standing beside him. They appeared from nowhere. The two strangers were dressed all in white and they seemed to shine with light. The strangers gently laid Muhammad on the ground. They opened his chest, removed a black spot from his heart and closed his chest again. Then they simply disappeared.

I couldn’t believe my eyes! Had I really seen the two strangers, dressed all in white, take a black spot from Muhammad’s heart? Or had I imagined the whole thing?

I was now big enough to carry Muhammad on my back. There were plenty of other camels, but I was Muhammad’s special camel and he always wanted to ride on me.

And so it was, when the time came for Muhammad to leave the Bedouin people and go back to his mother in the city of Makkah, that he rode upon my back. Aminah, Muhammad’s mother, was so glad to see her young son again. How he had grown! And how well he could talk! But how sad I felt, for I knew that I would never see Muhammad again.

Then my sadness turned to joy. The name of the Bedouin woman who had looked after Muhammad was Halimah. She had come with us to Makkah. Halimah told Muhammad’s mother that he could keep me as his very own camel. I could stay with Muhammad after all!

And then Halimah told Muhammad’s mother that she too had seen the strangers dressed in white: the ones that had taken the black spot from Muhammad’s heart. So I hadn’t imagined it! Someone else had seen it!

Muhammad’s mother, Aminah, listened to Halimah’s story in astonishment. When Halimah had finished, Aminah asked her who she thought the strangers were. Halimah said she did not know.

After Halimah had left, I could see Aminah thinking hard. Who were the two strangers dressed all in white, and what was the black spot they had taken from Muhammad’s heart?

If I could have talked to Aminah I would have told her what I was thinking. I was sure that the strangers were angels sent by God to take all the badness and evil out of Muhammad’s heart . With all the wickedness taken out, Muhammad’s heart would be full of goodness.

As I watched Muhammad playing happily with his mother, I had the feeling that he would grow up to become a very special person indeed. And I could tell that Aminah, his mother, thought so too.

2. Muhammad grows up

Do you enjoy stories? I love stories, and so does my young master, Muhammad. Muhammad’s grandfather was called Abd al-Muttalib, and he told the most wonderful stories.

But before I tell you more about Abd al-Muttalib and Muhammad, I had better tell you a little bit about myself. I am not a person at all. I am a camel. That’s right, a camel with a hump and a superior expression that seems to say, “I know everything that there is to be known”.

In the hot desert land of Arabia, where I live, the people believe that God has 100 names. 99 are known to human beings and the 100th name (which is much the most important name) is known only to God. Some people say that the camel has such a superior expression because the camel also knows the 100th name of God; but I can tell you that isn’t true!

Let me tell you about my master Muhammad and his grandfather, Abd al-Muttalib. Muhammad lived with Abd al-Muttalib because his father, Abdullah, had died before he was born and his mother, Aminah, had died when he was only six years old. Sadly, that was not the last death of a loved one that Muhammad was to know.

Now although Muhammad’s grandfather was old, he was a very important man. He lived in the city of Makkah and he was the chief of a big family. He was the keeper of the well of Zam Zam and he also looked after a special square-shaped building called the Ka’aba. Lots of people used to come and visit the well and the Ka’aba.

Abd al-Muttalib was a wonderful story teller. At night, when the sun had gone down and the air was cold, we would sit outside around a fire. I would kneel down and Muhammad would sit with his back resting against my hump wrapped in his grandfather’s great coat. With millions of stars twinkling in the clear night sky, we would stay up late into the night listening enthralled to Abd al-Muttalib’s wonderful stories. He told tales of princes and princesses, of magicians and genies, of golden cities and far away lands, of magic lamps and carpets that could fly, of horses with wings and other mysterious creatures …

Muhammad and I were very happy living with Abd al-Muttalib, but our days of happiness were soon to end. Muhammad’s father and mother had both died and now his grandfather died too. There was only one person left who could look after Muhammad, and that was his uncle, Abu Talib.

Life was very different with Abu Talib, and to begin with Muhammad was very sad. He still had me, his camel, to keep him company, but he missed his father and his mother and his grandfather and he felt very lonely.

Abu Talib loved Muhammad and he took good care of him. But Abu Talib was no story teller or dreamer. He was a merchant and a trader. He spent all his days and nights worrying about what to buy and what to sell. He was always thinking about how he could make more money for himself. He travelled all over Arabia buying and selling dates and raisins, sweet smelling oils and perfumes, rolls of cloth and animal skins.

Abu Talib had lots and lots of camels. He needed them to carry all the things that he wanted to buy and sell. The camels, with their heavy loads, would walk one behind another in single-file. When camels follow each other in this way it is called a caravan. Each camel was tied to the one in front, and if I was lucky I would be allowed to lead all the others. Of course, I never used to carry a heavy load. I was Muhammad’s camel and I would carry my young master. He was always very kind to me and I loved him very much.

When Muhammad was twelve years old, his uncle got ready to go on a long journey. He was planning to take a camel caravan all the way to the land of Syria and Muhammad desperately wanted to go. He pleaded and pleaded with Abu Talib and at last his uncle agreed that Muhammad could go. Soon we were on our way. The journey lasted many weeks. We travelled across vast sandy deserts, past high rocky mountains and through strange towns.

At last the caravan came to the land of Syria. As we entered the city of Bosra (with me leading all the other camels) we heard a sound we had never heard before. It was the sound of bells. The bells were being rung to tell Christians that it was time to say their prayers to Jesus and God. Muhammad was fascinated by the sound, and he brought the whole caravan to a halt so that he could stop and listen.

As we listened to the bells an extraordinary thing happened. One moment I was standing in the blazing hot sun with Muhammad on my back. The next moment I was standing in the shade. That was better! Muhammad and I were much cooler now. But why were all the other camels still in bright sunlight?

I looked up, and to my amazement I saw that a palm tree was bending right over so that its leaves and branches could shade Muhammad from the sun. Then I saw a man coming towards us. He came right up to me and looked up at Muhammad who was still sitting on my back.

The man spoke, “I am a holy man and my name is Bahira. I am a Christian and I spend my time praying to Jesus and God. I was praying in the little room where I live when a picture came into my mind. I saw a caravan led by a camel that looked just like this one.”

When he said this, Bahira pointed at me! Then he went on, “I saw a boy riding on the camel. Above the boy’s head was a little cloud. The cloud moved with the boy, keeping him in the shade at all times.”

Then Bahira looked straight up at Muhammad and said, “You are the boy that I saw in my mind! There isn’t a cloud above your head, but look how the tree is bending over to give you its shade. This is God’s way of showing that you are a very special person. You will grow up to be a man that is good and kind, honest and trustworthy. You will tell people about God. You will be a great leader and many people will follow you.”

I listened to Bahira in amazement as he told everyone about what a wonderful and important person Muhammad would grow up to be. And to think that of all the camels in the world, I was lucky enough to be the one to carry him on my back and to have him as my friend!

Bahira invited everyone from the caravan to a feast. Even the camels had plenty to eat and drink! Afterwards he and Muhammad had a very long talk. Then I heard Bahira speaking these words to Abu Talib, Muhammad’s uncle, “Go back to your own land of Arabia, and keep Muhammad safe.”

And so we returned to Makkah, where Muhammad grew up safely in his uncle’s care.

As Muhammad grew older, he became known for his honesty and his ability to work hard. People called him ‘al-Amin’, which means ‘the one who can be trusted’. He was gentle and kind and he made friends with everyone he met, warming them all with his wonderful smile.