Omar sighed, a big, long sigh that made his shoulders droop. He was sitting on the floor of his living room, surrounded by a mountain of building blocks, toy cars, and action figures. His little sister, Layla, had just finished a whirlwind of playtime, and the mess was epic.
“Omar,” his mom called gently from the kitchen. “Please help clean up. Dinner will be ready soon.”
Omar groaned. “But, Mom, I’m tired! And Layla made most of the mess.” He pushed a bright red car with his foot, sending it skidding into a pile of blocks. It felt like a giant, impossible chore.
His mom walked in, and instead of getting upset, she sat down on the floor right beside him. She picked up a small green block and smiled. “You know, I once knew a boy who was just about your age. He was asked to do something, too, and it turned into one of the most beautiful friendships in history.”
Omar’s ears perked up. “Really? Who?”
“His name was Anas ibn Malik,” Mom said, her voice soft and warm. “He lived a long, long time ago in a city called Medina, and he was a very special boy. When Anas was only eight years old, his mother, Umm Sulaym, took him by the hand and walked him to the home of the Prophet Muhammad, peace be upon him.”
Omar’s eyes grew wide. He knew about the Prophet Muhammad from his Quran class.
“Anas’s mother looked at the Prophet and said, ‘O Messenger of Allah, every man and woman of the Ansar has given you a gift. I have nothing to give you except this boy. Please accept him as your servant. He can help you with your daily tasks.’”
Omar frowned a little. “A servant?” he asked. “Like, he had to work?”
“Yes, but not like a chore you don’t want to do,” Mom explained. “It was an honor. Anas was so happy to live with the Prophet and help him. From that day on, his life changed completely. For ten whole years, he lived in the Prophet’s home. He would run errands, prepare things for him, and simply be a help in any way he could.”
Mom picked up a yellow block and started stacking it on the green one. “Now, here’s the most amazing part. Anas was a boy, just like you. Sometimes, boys get distracted. One afternoon, the Prophet sent Anas on an errand. Anas was on his way, walking through the streets of Medina, when he saw some other boys playing. They were laughing and running, and they invited him to join their game.”
Omar nodded. He knew exactly what that was like. Sometimes his friends would call him to play outside, and he would forget all about his chores.
“Anas forgot about his errand,” Mom continued. “He started playing with his friends. The sun was getting low in the sky when he felt a gentle touch on his shoulder. He turned around, and there was the Prophet Muhammad, standing behind him. The Prophet wasn’t angry. He wasn’t yelling. He just had the kindest smile on his face.”
Omar leaned in closer, captivated by the story.
“The Prophet looked at Anas and said, in the softest voice, ‘O little Anas, did you go where I sent you?’ Anas felt a little bit of shame, and he quickly said, ‘Yes, I will go now!’ And he ran off to finish his task.”
Mom paused and looked at Omar. “Do you know what Anas said about the Prophet years and years later? He told everyone, ‘I served the Prophet for ten years, and he never once said a harsh word to me. He never said, ‘Why did you do that?’ or ‘Why didn’t you do that?’”
Omar’s eyes were wide with wonder. “He never got mad?”
“Never,” Mom said, her voice full of admiration. “The Prophet understood that a boy is a boy. He knew that when you do things with a good heart, even if you make a mistake, it’s still a good thing. And Anas, because he loved the Prophet so much, found joy in helping him. It wasn’t a chore anymore; it was an act of love.”
Mom gently nudged a toy car toward Omar. “Just like helping Layla isn’t just a chore. It’s an act of kindness. It’s helping your family. It’s a way of serving the people you love.”
Omar looked at the mess, but this time, he didn’t see a mountain of impossible work. He saw all the toys he and Layla had played with. He remembered her giggles as they built a tall tower together. The sigh he had sighed before felt silly now. He thought about Anas, a boy his age, who had the honor of helping the greatest man in history.
He picked up a handful of blocks and put them in their bin. Then another handful. He started to hum a little tune as he worked. When he got to the toy cars, he stacked them neatly in a row, just like he imagined Anas would have stacked things for the Prophet.
By the time his dad came in, the living room was tidy. Layla’s mess was gone, and the room was bright and clean.
“Wow, great job, Omar!” his dad said.
Omar smiled. He felt a little tired, but it was a good tired. It was the kind of feeling you get when you’ve done something good for someone else. He had done his chore, but it hadn’t felt like one at all. It had felt like helping, just like Anas had helped the Prophet Muhammad, with a willing heart and a happy spirit.
