• Chapter 9 •

Yusuf woke early the next morning. He felt tired but he couldn’t sleep. He checked his clock and realised it was almost time for fajr prayer. He made wudu. The water was cold; after splashing his face three times the tiredness he was feeling only minutes earlier disappeared. He stepped out of the bathroom and noticed his grandpa’s bedroom door was slightly ajar.

Yusuf could hear him reciting the Qur’an. He knocked softly and waited for permission to enter. Grandpa opened the door and hugged him tightly. “Come, Yusuf, we will pray fajr together today,” he said, “and Insha Allah, afterwards we will have time to talk.”

After the prayer, Yusuf waited for his grandpa to finish reciting his morning dhikr. The lamp that shone dimly in his room reflected light off his amber prayer beads and they sparkled like jewels. He put the prayer beads down after a short while and looked at Yusuf, smiling. “So, you like your gift?” Yusuf nodded. He had so many questions but he didn’t know where to start. His grandpa sensed this and began telling him a story.

“My grandfather gave me this rug when I was a young boy and it took me and my best friend on many adventures. The stories I could tell you!” he laughed.

“I suppose I should start at the beginning; I will tell you what my grandfather told me.” Yusuf shuffled closer to his grandpa, ready to listen to the story.

“My grandfather, your great, great grandpa, who was also called Yusuf, was a very poor man. Sadly, he was orphaned when he was only nine years old. He had no other family so he struggled through life all by himself. He had many opportunities, he told me, to make money and become rich quickly but by doing the wrong thing: cheating, lying, tricking people. There were other boys in his