- BR Shōnen
- Posts
- The Light Beneath the Leaves | A Luz Sob as Folhas
The Light Beneath the Leaves | A Luz Sob as Folhas
A boy, a lantern, and the light that reveals what the eyes cannot see.
Chris Martinez
June 28, 2025
1️⃣ The Boy Who Wouldn’t Pray
Caio was fifteen when the light left him.
His mother, a healer known for reciting Surah An-Nūr into the forest air, had passed quietly in her sleep. She had whispered ayahs with each bandage she wrapped and lit oil lamps as she read Qur’an aloud after Maghrib.
When she died, Caio stopped praying. He refused to step foot in the musalla. He said:
🌑 “Não há luz. Só silêncio.”
("There is no light. Only silence.")
His grandfather only smiled gently, blind eyes glinting.
🧓🏼 “Só quem fecha o coração diz que o sol se foi.”
("Only those who close their hearts say the sun is gone.")
2️⃣ The Lantern in the Roots
One misty morning, Caio followed no path. Something called him — soft, wordless. At the edge of the riverbank, a tree struck by lightning had split apart. Its roots had burst from the ground, revealing something wrapped in linen and clay.
It was a lantern — ancient, wooden, and dry. Not built for oil, not made for fire. He cleaned the glass panels with his sleeve.
One word stared back:
ٱلنُّور
An-Nūr
A Luz (The Light)
As his fingers traced the calligraphy, the lantern flickered — no fuel, no fire, just a heartbeat glow. Caio stumbled back.
That night, he dreamt of wings made of flame and mist. A voice said:
🕯️ "A oração da sua mãe iluminou o caminho. A lanterna só espera pelo disposto."
("Your mother’s prayer lit the path. The lantern only waits for the willing.")
3️⃣ The Glow of Dhikr
The next dawn, Caio hesitated. He opened a small Qur’an wrapped in cloth. His voice trembled:
📖 “Allāhu Nūrus-samāwāti wal-ard...”
("Allah is the Light of the heavens and the earth...")
The lantern sparked. His hands glowed softly.
He ran to his grandfather, breathless.
The old man wept, placing his hand on Caio’s chest.
✨ “An-Nūr não é fogo. Não queima. Revela. Você não foi escolhido por poder — mas por lembrança.”
("An-Nūr is not fire. It does not burn. It reveals. You were not chosen for power — but for remembrance.)
4️⃣ Machines in the Mist
Days later, white trucks came. Outsiders in boots and clipboards. They offered contracts. Smiles. Then came the machines. Chainsaws. Promises.
They said the forest was dead weight. That it needed to be "developed."
At night, the village changed. Confusion crept in. People forgot old paths. Fajr became silent. Even the Imam grew doubtful.
But Caio saw what others could not: jinn disguised as men. Shadows masking greed. Roots bleeding sap like tears.
5️⃣ Dhikr as Light
Caio carried the lantern now. He whispered:
🌙 “Yā Nūr... ilumine o que está escondido.”
("Yā Nūr... illuminate what is hidden.")
The glow pierced illusions. He saw the boundary between truth and trickery. Between dunya and the unseen.
He approached a sacred tree being prepped for demolition. Behind it, spirits stirred. One in a suit laughed at him.
Caio stood still. Recited:
💡 “Lā ilāha illa Allāh, An-Nūr.”
💡 "There is no god but Allah, the Light."
The lantern erupted in golden light. Not blinding — clarifying. Workers dropped tools. The spirits shrieked and vanished into the soil.
The machines broke down. Leaves shimmered with dew. The air exhaled peace.
6️⃣ The Return of Prayer
The village returned to life. Elders sang old duas. Children chased fireflies again. Fajr echoed strong.
Caio led prayer under the tree his mother once prayed beneath. His voice was calm, filled with something he didn’t have before:
🤲 Yaqīn — certeza.
Yaqīn — certainty.
His grandfather handed him a Qur’an and whispered:
📿 “Agora que você vê, ajude os outros a lembrar.”
"Now that you see, help others remember."
And Caio knew: the lantern wasn’t the only thing that held light.
His heart did too.
-FIM-
📖 Inspired by: An-Nūr (ٱلنُّور) — A Luz
Qur’anic Ayah:
🌌 “Allah é a Luz dos céus e da terra...”
(Surah An-Nūr, 24:35)