Once lived two boys, Omar and Hassain, in a village at the foot of a great mountain. Passing by it one day, the notion to climb passed through their young heads. It was said by elders in the village to be a mountain of God, and in climbing to its top one could hear his voice; and so the two set out.
It wasn’t long, when the littler of the two, Hassain, grew weary. His small legs trembled violently, even having had rested several times. It was decided, between the two, to return some day when he was a bit older and stronger. Omar seeing that Hassain felt shamed in his weakness, reassured him, “Have faith little brother, we shall get there together some day.” And so they went down.
Years later, having grown to young men, they once again found themselves at the mountain’s base gazing upwards. Without words, both started up its slope. Crossing the place they’d stopped years earlier, a smile passed between them. Onward they climbed. Half way up however, Omar’s shoe picked up a stone, and, in not wanting to stop, he traveled a while further before reluctantly sitting to remove it. His foot was bruised badly by that time, but rising once again, he joined Hassain in the assent. Hassain could see Omar's limp and eventual struggle to keep up. “Omar!” Hassain said, “That foot of yours cannot hold out, we must go back.” Omar, who had not wanted his friend to see his plight felt grateful that he had, and agreed. “I hope someday in the future we may return to finish what we have started,” Hassain told Omar that night in the village.
A couple years later a family with a beautiful daughter moved into their village. Hassain confessed in confidence to Omar his desire and wish to marry the young women, but Omar desired her too. Without comment, Omar went quickly about arranging to marry the girl, giving half his possessions to do so. When word passed that the lucky couple was indeed to be married, a rift occurred between the two young men. Hassain, who felt Omar had stolen her from him, did not attend the wedding and refused to speak with his friend.
Time passed, and Hassain, who himself had eventually married, moved from the village to raise sheep in the nearby hills. Years turned into decades, families were raised, and flowers bloomed and died in their pots.
One day Hassain, coming from the village market, encountered his old friend at the foot of this mountain. They both looked to its top and began climbing. Their old quarrel soon dwindled, defused by distance and climb. Quietly, gently, they began to speak of their children, wives, and of the sorrows and joys life had given. Up, up they went, not noticing gathering clouds. A storm descended on them before they were aware of it. They continued.
Omar, without coat, soon became chilled. Hearing the chattering teeth in Omar’s mouth, Hassain removed his coat and threw it over his friend’s shoulders. Omar felt grateful, yet guilty that his old friend should now suffer the weather, and after a while returned the coat saying, “Thank you my friend, I feel much better now, you take this.” Thus sharing the warmth of coat and conversation they eventually stood at the mountain's peak. Silent understanding then passed and smiles radiated from both men. The storm ceded and warmth filled the air. Looking out under the blue sky they indeed heard the voice of God, though he had not spoken a word. Looking out, they saw all of God’s land.
Some say that they did not return, but froze to death when the great storm again dropped upon their old gray heads, but I say this is nonsense. For I ask you, if not from they, from where did these words and this story come, a mountain?
It wasn’t long, when the littler of the two, Hassain, grew weary. His small legs trembled violently, even having had rested several times. It was decided, between the two, to return some day when he was a bit older and stronger. Omar seeing that Hassain felt shamed in his weakness, reassured him, “Have faith little brother, we shall get there together some day.” And so they went down.
Years later, having grown to young men, they once again found themselves at the mountain’s base gazing upwards. Without words, both started up its slope. Crossing the place they’d stopped years earlier, a smile passed between them. Onward they climbed. Half way up however, Omar’s shoe picked up a stone, and, in not wanting to stop, he traveled a while further before reluctantly sitting to remove it. His foot was bruised badly by that time, but rising once again, he joined Hassain in the assent. Hassain could see Omar's limp and eventual struggle to keep up. “Omar!” Hassain said, “That foot of yours cannot hold out, we must go back.” Omar, who had not wanted his friend to see his plight felt grateful that he had, and agreed. “I hope someday in the future we may return to finish what we have started,” Hassain told Omar that night in the village.
A couple years later a family with a beautiful daughter moved into their village. Hassain confessed in confidence to Omar his desire and wish to marry the young women, but Omar desired her too. Without comment, Omar went quickly about arranging to marry the girl, giving half his possessions to do so. When word passed that the lucky couple was indeed to be married, a rift occurred between the two young men. Hassain, who felt Omar had stolen her from him, did not attend the wedding and refused to speak with his friend.
Time passed, and Hassain, who himself had eventually married, moved from the village to raise sheep in the nearby hills. Years turned into decades, families were raised, and flowers bloomed and died in their pots.
One day Hassain, coming from the village market, encountered his old friend at the foot of this mountain. They both looked to its top and began climbing. Their old quarrel soon dwindled, defused by distance and climb. Quietly, gently, they began to speak of their children, wives, and of the sorrows and joys life had given. Up, up they went, not noticing gathering clouds. A storm descended on them before they were aware of it. They continued.
Omar, without coat, soon became chilled. Hearing the chattering teeth in Omar’s mouth, Hassain removed his coat and threw it over his friend’s shoulders. Omar felt grateful, yet guilty that his old friend should now suffer the weather, and after a while returned the coat saying, “Thank you my friend, I feel much better now, you take this.” Thus sharing the warmth of coat and conversation they eventually stood at the mountain's peak. Silent understanding then passed and smiles radiated from both men. The storm ceded and warmth filled the air. Looking out under the blue sky they indeed heard the voice of God, though he had not spoken a word. Looking out, they saw all of God’s land.
Some say that they did not return, but froze to death when the great storm again dropped upon their old gray heads, but I say this is nonsense. For I ask you, if not from they, from where did these words and this story come, a mountain?
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