The sign of death showed itself in his face.

The sign of death showed itself in his face. Umm Dharr understood and, anxiouslv, asked, “What is happening to you, Abu Dharr?” “Separation is near! Leave my corpse on the way and ask wayfarers to help you bury me.” “The hajjis have gone and there are no wayfarers.” “It can't be. Get up and go on the hill. Some people will come for my death.” Umm Dharr, from the top of the hill, saw three riders who were riding at a distance. She signaled to them. They came close. “May God bless you.

A man is dying here. Help me bury him and receive your reward from God.” “Who is he?” “Abu Dharr.” “The friend of the Prophet?” “Yea.” “May my mother and father be sacrificed for you O Abu Dharr! “ They stood before him. He was still alive. He requested of them, “Any of you who are messengers of the government, spies or military personnel, do not bury me.

If my wife or I had a cloth for my shroud, there would be no need.” Only a youth from among the Helpers who had a non-government profession said, “I have this cloth with me which my mother wove.” Abu Dharr prayed for him and said, “Shroud me with that.” His mind at rest, everything was coming to an end. He closed his eyes and never opened them again. The wayfarers buried him under the hot sands of Rabadah.

The young Helper stood beside his grave, whispering under his breath, “The Prophet of God stated it well!” He walks alone, dies alone and will be resurrected alone! “When?” “On the arising of the Day of Resurrection.” “And, also, in the arising of every era and in the midst of every generation.” And now, once again it is Abu Dharr who, among all of the visages buried in this shoreless cemetery of history, in our age and among us, will be resurrected alone.”…