I had never seen Prophet Musa — Moses, peace be upon him — look so determined. I was just a boy then, a servant traveling with him through valleys and rocky cliffs. Most days, our journey was long and tiring, but this time felt different. He wasn’t just walking — he was searching. He had said, “I will not stop until I reach the place where the two seas meet.” Even I could hear the urgency in his voice.
You won’t find my name in any surah, but I was there when we carried our dried fish in a basket and crossed great distances. We stopped near a huge rock by the sea to rest. The waves crashed, and I drifted off under the cool shade. When I woke, I forgot to tell him something strange — the fish was gone. It had leapt into the water and vanished. Later, Musa asked if I remembered what had happened to our meal, and then it hit me. That fish was our sign — the place where it came to life again was where we were to meet a special servant of Allah.
We went back and found him. His name was Al-Khidr — a righteous man given knowledge by Allah that even Musa did not have. From the outside, he looked simple, calm. But there was something in his eyes — like he saw things others couldn’t. Musa asked to follow him, but Khidr warned, “You won’t be able to be patient with me.”
Still, Musa insisted. So the journey began — and I stayed behind, watching from a distance.
They boarded a boat, offered freely by kind people. Khidr damaged it. Musa was shocked — “They helped us! Why did you break their boat?” But Khidr reminded him — no questions allowed.
Next, a young boy on the road. For no reason I could see, Khidr took the boy’s life. Musa's voice trembled — “You have done a terrible thing!” Again, Khidr told him to remain patient.
Finally, they came to a town. The people there were cold and unwelcoming. Even so, Khidr repaired a wall that was collapsing. Musa asked, “Why help them when they gave us nothing in return?” That was the last straw. Khidr told Musa, “This is where we part ways.”
But then, he explained everything.
He’d damaged the boat because a greedy king was stealing good ships, and by marking it, he saved it. He ended the boy’s life because, as Allah had informed him, the child would grow to bring pain to his faithful parents. And he fixed the wall because gold buried beneath it belonged to orphaned boys, and Allah wanted to protect it until they grew up.
That day I learned something I’ll carry forever: Not everything makes sense on the surface. Even Prophet Musa — strong and wise — had to learn that Allah’s knowledge is beyond what we see.
Sometimes we don’t understand why trouble visits us or why something we love is taken away. But Allah, the Most Wise, is always guiding things for a higher good — even when we don’t see it yet.
Story Note: Inspired by the story of Musa and Al-Khidr in Surah Al-Kahf (18:60–82).
I had never seen Prophet Musa — Moses, peace be upon him — look so determined. I was just a boy then, a servant traveling with him through valleys and rocky cliffs. Most days, our journey was long and tiring, but this time felt different. He wasn’t just walking — he was searching. He had said, “I will not stop until I reach the place where the two seas meet.” Even I could hear the urgency in his voice.
You won’t find my name in any surah, but I was there when we carried our dried fish in a basket and crossed great distances. We stopped near a huge rock by the sea to rest. The waves crashed, and I drifted off under the cool shade. When I woke, I forgot to tell him something strange — the fish was gone. It had leapt into the water and vanished. Later, Musa asked if I remembered what had happened to our meal, and then it hit me. That fish was our sign — the place where it came to life again was where we were to meet a special servant of Allah.
We went back and found him. His name was Al-Khidr — a righteous man given knowledge by Allah that even Musa did not have. From the outside, he looked simple, calm. But there was something in his eyes — like he saw things others couldn’t. Musa asked to follow him, but Khidr warned, “You won’t be able to be patient with me.”
Still, Musa insisted. So the journey began — and I stayed behind, watching from a distance.
They boarded a boat, offered freely by kind people. Khidr damaged it. Musa was shocked — “They helped us! Why did you break their boat?” But Khidr reminded him — no questions allowed.
Next, a young boy on the road. For no reason I could see, Khidr took the boy’s life. Musa's voice trembled — “You have done a terrible thing!” Again, Khidr told him to remain patient.
Finally, they came to a town. The people there were cold and unwelcoming. Even so, Khidr repaired a wall that was collapsing. Musa asked, “Why help them when they gave us nothing in return?” That was the last straw. Khidr told Musa, “This is where we part ways.”
But then, he explained everything.
He’d damaged the boat because a greedy king was stealing good ships, and by marking it, he saved it. He ended the boy’s life because, as Allah had informed him, the child would grow to bring pain to his faithful parents. And he fixed the wall because gold buried beneath it belonged to orphaned boys, and Allah wanted to protect it until they grew up.
That day I learned something I’ll carry forever: Not everything makes sense on the surface. Even Prophet Musa — strong and wise — had to learn that Allah’s knowledge is beyond what we see.
Sometimes we don’t understand why trouble visits us or why something we love is taken away. But Allah, the Most Wise, is always guiding things for a higher good — even when we don’t see it yet.
Story Note: Inspired by the story of Musa and Al-Khidr in Surah Al-Kahf (18:60–82).
