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In the age of sultans and viziers there once lived a poor but pious shaykh and a vizier who feared Allah. The fact that the shaykh was poor did not concern him, he was satisfied with whatever Allah sent him.

The shaykh was wise and knew that Allah rewards those who give charity in His Name receive a very handsome reward -- a reward far greater than anyone can imagine. It was not the shaykh's custom to ask anyone for help, but one day he really needed help so he decided to visit the vizier and ask for his help.

Without hesitation the good hearted vizier instructed his wakeel to give the shaykh 50 dirhams, which was quite a lot of money in those days.

The next week the shaykh needed more help so he went to visit the vizier and asked his help once again. When the vizier saw the shaykh he was taken aback and exclaimed "Shaykh, I gave you 50 dirhams only last week!"

The shaykh accepted the vizier's decision and started to leave. As he left it seemed to the vizier that the shaykh was muttering something disagreeable about him to himself, however, he could not hear exactly what he was saying and said "Shaykh, aren't you ashamed to speak against me?"

The shaykh was taken by surprise. It had not occurred to him that the vizier should think that he would do such a thing and told him that it was not so, and that he was remembering Allah saying: "O You, the Turner of hearts and eyes."

The vizier felt ashamed of himself for thinking that the shaykh would do such a thing and quickly called for his quill and paper. His assistant handed him the quill and paper and the vizier started to write: "Give the shaykh 50 dirhams," but instead of writing "dirhams" he wrote "dinars" -- which is a lot more money.

As the shaykh thanked the vizier he did not notice what was written on the paper and took the note to the wakeel for payment.

When the wakeel read the note both he and the shaykh were surprised when he read aloud "Pay the shaykh 50 dinars," so the wakeel asked the shaykh what he had sold the vizier. The shaykh told him that he had not sold him anything and told him what had happened.

Now the wakeel thought he had better check with the vizier before giving the shaykh such a large amount of money, so he went to the vizier to show him what he had written.

When the vizier read the note he smiled and said "His supplication has been answered, the shaykh called upon 'He who causes hearts to turn.' The Turner of hearts has turned both the heart and pen, therefore give him the 50 dinars."

This is a true story about a girl who lived in Oman, and was Omani. The people who told her story are her best friend and some members of her family.

The story starts when a young Omani man married a western woman. The woman stayed on her Christian religion, but she came to live in Oman with her husband. The man had a good job and was wealthy. They had some children, but they lacked a family.

This story is very sad because it talks about THE TRUTH; The truth that was so bitter for one of their daughters. I will call her Malak, it means angel. That is what she turned out to be later, so there is no better name to call her.

Malak lived a life of luxury and wealth. She had whatever anyone would dream to have.The only thing that this young girl lacked was a family.

Malak wanted someone there for her to spend time with, and to confide in.The only people who she could turn to were the other rich girls who led a life similar to hers. They spent their time with friends basically having fun, as it would be called. There was no one to interfere with them, they could do whatever they please.

There was Malak and her best friend and six boys that went with them. They took two rooms, one, which the boys slept in, and the other where she and her friend slept in. They would all stay together in one room, or in the clubs then they would go to sleep around two in the morning. This is how much freedom these girls had. At least that is what they considered freedom.

Malak and her best friend both had boyfriends, so once they wanted to hang around somewhere without being disturbed by the others. They decided to go to her friend's house because there was no one there.

So they sat together in the living room for sometime, then her friend wanted to go into one of the rooms with her boyfriend, and she told Malak that she could also go into any of the rooms if she wanted to.

Malak preferred to stay in the living room and talk to her boyfriend. After some time her friend called her, so she and her boyfriend both went. When they did they were astonished to see their two friends in such a shameful way. Malak was so furious that she slapped her friend and told her, " How dare you?" Then she stormed out of the house, full of feelings that she had felt for the first time in her life.

For the first time she felt that her life was worthless. She just needed somewhere to run to be comforted.

She went to her house,only to hear the loud music playing and the voices of her siblings with their friends. Oh how she hated all those things that happened in that house. She ran to her room for comfort, only to find all those horrible paintings and posters staring at her. She pulled them all down and broke them. She felt very tired after that, but relieved.

Now she needed to pray, she went to their living room, because it was quiet so that she can pray. She wanted to pray, she needed to pray, but she didn't know how! She went into the toilet and got her whole body wet, because she had no idea how to perform wudhu. Then she found her grandmother's prayer mat and she stood on it, not knowing what to do.

Then she just did what her heart told her to do, she prostrated (did sujud) and just talked to God. She stayed like that for one whole hour. She just poured her heart out to her Creator. She felt much better after that, but there was more that she wanted to do now.

She remembered her uncle, whom she hadn't seen for a very long time, because he was not on good terms with her father. He was the person who could help her. She planned to go to his house, but she absolutely couldn't go there dressed the way she was. She tried to find something suitable to wear, she couldn't. All her clothes exposed her body. Then she remembered that her aunt had once given her an abaya and veil and the holy Qur'an. She went and got them all out, wore the Abaya and veil, then she called her grandmother's driver to take her to her uncle's house.

When she got there, her uncle's wife opened the door. Malak threw herself into her arms and cried her heart out.

The aunt understood what happened, so she called her husband. When Malak saw her uncle, she did the same, she just hugged him tight and cried. The uncle didn't even recognize his niece at first because he hardly sees her. When he understood who she was, he comforted her and sat with her and talked to her.

Malak had later said that this was the first time that she ever felt love and care. Then she asked to see one of her cousins. When her cousin came, she asked her to teach her how to pray. After she learned the prayers, she said I don't want anyone to come in this room, I want to be alone for three days.

Then she asked her uncle, "How long would it take me to memorize the holy Quran." The uncle said that she would need at least five years to do that. She was not happy, she said," I could die before five years had passed."

So she started her mission, she started memorizing the Qur'an. Malak was so much happier and at peace with herself in this new lifestyle. After about two months her father finally realized that his daughter was not in the house and started to inquire about her!

He was infuriated to discover that she was in his brother's house. He went to take her from there, but she refused to go back to their house. Finally Malak decided to go live in her grandfather's house, so as to solve the problem.

What's important is that Malak did reach her goal, she memorized the holy Qur'an in three months only! Now she called her uncle and his family to come over so that they could celebrate the occasion. She told them to hurry. They were all so happy and excited and they went quickly.

When they got there, they were told that she was praying. A long time passed and she still didn't come, so her cousins decided to go see her. They saw her on the prayer mat holding the holy Qur'an in her arms, lying dead. Yes you all read that sentence correctly, she had died holding the holy book in her arms near the heart that memorized it.

The whole family was devastated at her death, but now they had to bury her quickly. They called her father, but she had told her grandfather that she doesn't want her mother to come if she had not converted to Islam. Her sister and brother also came. Then they started washing her. It was the first time for her cousins to wash someone, but they did it anyway, because they were the closest people to her. They said that they felt other people helping them, people that they couldn't see. They had prepared the Kafan (the white cloth that the dead person is wrapped in), but it had disappeared.

They started looking for it everywhere, but they couldn't find it. Then to their surprise in one of the corners of the house they found another Kafan that had the most beautiful smell. So they had no choice but to use this Kafan. When the men went to pray for her, there were six men, dressed in green.

These six men also prayed for her, then they carried her to the graveyard and they buried her. These six men were not members of the family, they were strangers. After the burial, these men disappeared and no one knew who they were or where they came from.

There is no doubt about whom they are and where they came from. They were angels and they came from up above to take the body of the pure Malak and treat it the way God wants. Malak deserved to be buried by angels not humans, because she had reached a higher standard than most other humans had.

The sad thing is that there are many like Malak in Oman and in other Islamic communities. I just hope that everyone spreads this story so that we could learn from this live example. To all the men and women, when it comes to marriage don't just think of love and lust, think of the children that are going to come.

Choose good parents for you children before you bear them. Remember that there is death and judgement and then heaven or hell.

Take good care of your families and nurture them with love and care,and sow faith in their hearts.

Like Malak, with all that she had, she never really felt happy until she found her path back to Allah. Without faith there is no happiness or contentment.

If I do not want what you want, please try not to tell me that my want is wrong. Or if I believe other than you, at least pause before you correct my view.

Or if my emotion is more than yours, or less, given the same circumstances, try not to ask me to feel more weakly or strongly. Or yet if I act in some way other than your design for action, let me be.

I do not, for the moment at least, ask you to understand me. That will come only when you are willing to give up changing me into a copy of you.

I may be your spouse, your employee, your child, your parent, or your friend. If you will allow me any of my own wants, or emotions, or beliefs, or actions, then you open yourself, so that some day these ways of mine might not seem so wrong, and might finally appear to you as right -- for me.

To put up with me is the first step to understanding me. Not that you embrace my ways as right for you, but that you are no longer irritated or disappointed with me for my seeming waywardness.

And in understanding me, you might come to prize my differences from you, and far from seeking to change them, you might preserve and even nurture those differences.

The Pencil Maker took the pencil aside, just before putting him into the box. There are 5 things you need to know, he told the pencil, before I send you out into the world. Always remember them and never forget, and you will become the best pencil you can be.

ONE: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you allow yourself to be held in Someone's hand.

TWO: You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, but you'll need it to become a better pencil.

No matter what the condition, you must continue to write. The pencil understood and promised to remember, and went into the box with purpose in its heart.

Now replacing the place of the pencil with you; always remember them and never forget, and you will become the best person you can be.

ONE: You will be able to do many great things, but only if you place your Trust in Allah.

TWO: You will experience a painful sharpening from time to time, by going through various problems, but you'll need it to become a stronger person.

No matter what the situation, you must continue to do your duties. By understanding and remembering, let us proceed with our life on this earth having a meaningful purpose in our heart.

"Assalamualaikum". As usual, the middle-aged woman is standing at the gate to greet us.

Other visitors are coming out by the same gate one by one. Like us, they also acknowledge the woman's greeting. The generous ones would donate one or two dollars to her. But most of them do not pay any attention to her.

Every Friday, when the afternoon prayer is over, the woman (henceforth I call Auntie) would hang around there except when it rains. She would greet everyone and would be hopeful of donations from the congregation.

I have never donated any money to her. I would only reply to her greeting and give her a smile. That is also a form of charity. Auntie probably regards me as stingy. Let it be. What is most important is that I regularly donate to the mosque's fund.

Zainal also has never donated to Auntie. We both agree that we should not give any donation to her because by doing so, it is as good as encouraging the act of begging, and advocating indolence indirectly.

We are not mean, but we feel that begging is not the proper way to obtain financial aid. If Auntie really needed aid, she could get it from the numerous welfare bodies in this country.

We could not determine whether Auntie is really poor or whether she is merely taking advantage of other people's sympathy. In this age, it is very hard to differentiate between an impostor and a bona fide beggar. It is better to be cautious than sorry.

For sure we do not feel pity for Auntie. In fact, we are suspicious of her presence. Auntie does not look unkempt like other beggars. Moreover, we had seen her selling curry puffs at Kallang Stadium when the Malaysian Cup fever hit soccer enthusiasts here two years ago.

We can surely recognise her figure and face. It's verified! We have not identified the wrong person. Her dark-brown complexion and the prominent mole on her chin enhanced our confidence that the Auntie we just met at the mosque is the same person whom we saw at Kallang Stadium.

We notice that Auntie is still healthy as we last saw her two years ago. The proof is Auntie can still walk without the aid of a walking stick. But why she needs to beg? Why can't she continue to sell kuihs or curry puffs as she used to do? She can even work as a cleaner or support herself by selling used cardboard boxes as what many poor nyonyas normally do.

"Auntie stopped selling curry puffs because business was bad since the Lions withdrew themselves from the Malaysian Cup." Zainal tries to joke when I asked him those questions.

"That's not right. Auntie changed her profession because beggars don't need to pay income tax," I reply.

"That's not right too. Auntie begs because nobody has asked her to stop begging," adds Zainal.

"Are you sure? What proof do you have to say that no one has asked her to stop begging?" I try to trap him. Zainal grins widely. He knows his statement is not convincing. "Maybe someone has asked her to stop begging but she refused," I continue.

Just after I said that, service 51 reaches the bus stop where we had been waiting. We flag and board it. Luckily there are empty seats for us. We quickly take our seats and continue our conversation.

"The correct answer is that Auntie begs because the authorities have never caught her. If she had been caught, surely she won't dare to continue begging," I say confidently.

"Not necessarily so. Some people are recalcitrant and incorrigible," Zainal refutes. That reminds me of thousands of drug addicts who keep getting in and out of DRCs as if they love those rehabilitation centres.

"You're right, Zai. If a person is incorrigible, no matter how harsh we punish him, it will not have any effect on him."

"Maybe it will be effective if we changed secular laws with Islamic laws!" Zainal suggests.

"But Zai, I think as long as there are people who continue to donate to beggars like Auntie, they will always hang around our mosques."

Our conversation stops at this point because the bus has reached my destination. When I settle down in my office, I still keep thinking about the lady at the mosque. Her face seems to appear on my computer screen until it affects my concentration. I don't know why but I can't forget her. In the end, I cannot complete my job for the rest of the day. Why does Auntie have to beg? Doesn't she have any relatives? Is she an illegal immigrant? Is she suffering from a serious illness until she can't take up other jobs? Could she be a member of a beggar syndicate? Where does she stay? Questions after questions keep coming up in my mind.

I know that all these questions would be answered if I could spend some time to approach and interview Auntie. However, I still haven't got the opportunity to do it. God willing, if I have the time, next week I will talk to her.

Yes, I will try to dig up Auntie's background. Perhaps I could expose her plight and experiences for society's benefit. From her profile, I surmise that Auntie is at least 60 years old. This means that she survived the hardships of living through the Japanese Occupation. She can surely tell me some interesting histories. I want to know what she did for a living during those painful years. Was she involved in the struggle for independence from colonial rule?

Why does she end up as a beggar now? Why did she stop selling curry puffs? Why it seems that no welfare bodies are aware of her plight? Is it appropriate to just ignore her and let her continue begging? And many other questions?

If Auntie is really poor and needs aid, I will help her in my own way. I will expose her hardship in the local newspapers so that she will get some attention from the public. Many people have received financial aid through this method. I believe the authorities will also take the necessary action to help her.

Meanwhile, I feel grateful that I'm still able to work without having to beg on the streets. Although my salary as a clerical officer is very little compared to those of ministers or professional footballers, I'm still contented because at least I still have a secure job.

Let the higher classes look down on the kind of job I'm doing, the main thing is, I'm happy. And what is important is that I'm not begging or involved in corruption or criminal breach of trust like what some honourable people often commit.

"Hey, Taufik. Why are you still around? Are you doing TO today?" Dilla, my colleague, wakes me up from dreaming. All because of thinking about Auntie, I cannot complete my job this evening. It's already past maghrib when I reach home. I feel very restless soon after performing my maghrib and isha' prayers. I don't know why Auntie's face suddenly appears again in my mind.

I feel that something is amiss. Suddenly, I get the urge to read The Meaning of The Holy Quran by Abdullah Yusuf Ali, that I've not touched for quite some time. I begin by reading surah al-Fatihah and move on to surah al-Baqarah.

For a while I manage to forget Auntie who's been haunting me since this afternoon. I continue reading line by line until I reach line 271. Suddenly I feel ashamed of myself. According to verse 2:271:

"If ye disclose (acts of charity), even so, it is well, but if ye conceal them, and make them reach those (really) in need, that is best for you: It will remove from you some of your (stains of) evil. And Allah is well-acquainted with what ye do."

I feel very unkind because I have never donated to Auntie. Maybe she really needs help. I start to regret. And then I remember my conversation with Zainal not long ago.

"In this age, there are so many professional liars. Be they politicians, businessmen, spiritual leaders, stock brokers, professional footballers, writers and beggars. I don't trust them all."

"You cannot think that way about everyone Zai. There may be one or two liars around. But, it's unfair to hold your prejudice against others." "Actually I am very disappointed because my close friend had conned me. Now it's hard for me to trust anybody."

"Let bygone be bygone Zai. You should not harp on the get-rich-quick scheme. Take it as a lesson. Next time, be careful when handing over your money to someone."

"It's easy for you to say, because it's not your money that is lost." "I had also been conned like you Zai. But, I don't go to the extent of losing faith in them. I believe that each individual can change if he or she gets the guidance from God."

"Taufik, I know that you don't like to see me begging. But, I have never forced anybody to donate to me."

"I am not a fraud like you thought. I'm actually giving you the opportunity to increase your credits for doing good deeds."

"You yourself are aware that 'it's better to give than to receive'. So, do not hesitate to donate to people like me."

"Actually, I ask for donations not for myself but for the sake of others." "I'm not disappointed if you're still unwilling to give alms to me. But I hope that you could fulfil my only request. Please recite the al-Fatihah for me after I leave."

I'm suddenly awakened when I hear the barking of dogs outside my house. I had dozed off for a while just a moment ago. Hence I cannot sleep and remain awake. It's already morning and I groggily get ready for work. I'm still haunted by yesterday's dream. The more I try to forget it, the clearer Auntie's face appears in my mind.

I don't feel like working when I look at the pile of documents that should have been completed yesterday.

"Whether you like it or not, you must finish your job Fik, if you don't want to end up as a beggar like Auntie." My conscience seems to mock me.

I was busy handling the documents, when I received a telephone call from Zainal. "Hello Fik, there's a shocking news. You take today's Malay newspaper and look at page two. I cannot talk long, I'll call you back."

I quickly get the paper from Dilla who is incidentally reading it. And straight away I turn to page two: $500,000 for Masjid Makruf's fund.

"The late Hajah Saleha Said who lived on her own had donated $500,000 to Masjid Makruf's reconstruction fund. In her lifetime, she also often donated money to welfare bodies like Darul Ihsan. Her doctor has confirmed that she died because of heart attack. Her body will be buried after zohor prayer." "Innalillahi wainnailaihi rajiuun."