🌳 The Tree of Barakah | A Árvore da Barakah

In the village of Caminho das Águas, the river wasn’t just a river.
It spoke—sometimes in whispers, sometimes in song, and sometimes in a silence so deep it felt like the river was listening to something older than time.

At the edge of that river lived a young girl named Amina, quiet and thoughtful, with steady hands and a heart full of wonder.
Her backyard was simple: a crooked fence, a few chickens, and an old wooden bench where she sat at dawn, making dhikr while the mist lifted off the earth.

Her parents often left early to work in the nearby fields.
Her brothers were always busy.
But Amina never said she was alone.

🌊 An Unexpected Gift

One morning, after a heavy rain, she stepped outside to sweep the wet leaves from the yard.

That’s when she saw it.

A seed.
Small, dark, smooth—almost polished.
It had washed up near the stone steps at the back of the house, right where the river sometimes reached when it rose too high.

She bent down, picked it up, and turned it over in her hand.
Then she smiled softly.

She dug a small hole by the fence where the soil stayed moist.
She planted the seed. Poured a bit of leftover wudu water.
And walked away without expecting much.

☀️ The Quiet Miracle

Days passed. Then weeks. Then months.

Nothing.

But still, each day after Fajr, she watered that little patch of earth and whispered:

Then one morning, just before sunrise, in the cool fog that hugged the ground—
there it was.

A sprout. Green. Brave. Alive.

She knelt down slowly, touched the leaf with one finger, and said:

🌳 What It Became

The tree grew tall. Taller than the roof of her house.
Its leaves shone like mirrors.
Its fruit—golden and soft—tasted like mango, fig, and a drop of honey.

The children were the first to find it.
They slipped through the fence to pick the strange new fruit, laughing as juice dripped down their chins.
Then the neighbors came.
Then travelers, even from faraway towns.

Amina never stopped them.

The tree never stopped producing.
Even during drought. Even when the garden dried up, and chickens stopped laying.
The tree gave.
Like a secret door in the sky had opened.

🌟 The Tree of Rizq

One afternoon, a curious boy asked:

She looked up at the wide canopy where birds nested and leaves danced in golden light.

(Rizq = sustenance, provision, and blessing from Allah.)

Years later, when Amina grew old and passed, the villagers buried her beneath the tree.

They began to call it A Árvore da Barakah—The Tree of Blessing.

And even now, they say that in the quiet just before dawn, when the mist touches the roots and the river hums,
you can hear her voice in the leaves:

🌱 Some blessings arrive silently.

Carried by water.
Planted with trust.
Shared without fear.

—THE END—

1.
Portuguese: “Allah sempre manda companhia.”
Arabic (transliteration): Allāh dāʾiman yursilu al-muṣāḥabah.
Arabic script: "الله دائمًا يُرسل الصحبة."

2.
Portuguese: “Se Allah te trouxe até aqui, pequenininha... então, bismillah.”
Arabic (transliteration): In kāna Allāh qad jāʾa biki ilā hāhunā, yā ṣaghīrah... fa-bismillāh.
Arabic script: "إن كان الله قد جاء بكِ إلى هاهنا، يا صغيرة... فبسم الله."

3.
Portuguese: “Allah, só Tu fazes crescer o que queres.”
Arabic (transliteration): Allāh, innamā anta tumnitu mā tashāʾ.
Arabic script: "اللهم، إنما أنت تُنبت ما تشاء."

4.
Portuguese: “Olha só... você ouviu minha du‘a.”
Arabic (transliteration): Yā raʾy, laqad istajabta duʿāʾī.
Arabic script: "يا ريت، لقد استجبت دعائي."

5.
Portuguese: “A árvore não é minha. Foi o rio que trouxe. E o rio pertence a todos.”
Arabic (transliteration): Hādhihi l-shajarah laysat lī. Al-nahr huwa man jaʾa bihā. Wa-al-nahr li-jamīʿ al-nās.
Arabic script: "هذه الشجرة ليست لي. النهر هو من جاء بها. والنهر للجميع."

6.
Portuguese: “É uma árvore de rizq, meu amigo.”
Arabic (transliteration): Innahā shajarat al-rizq, yā ṣadīqī.
Arabic script: "إنها شجرة الرزق، يا صديقي."

7.
Portuguese: “Bismillah... e sejam bem-vindos.”
Arabic (transliteration): Bismillāh... wa ahlan wa sahlan.
Arabic script: "بسم الله... وأهلاً وسهلاً."