STORY OF POOR MAN

In a quiet village nestled between green hills and winding rivers, lived a poor man named Harun. He was a humble potter, shaping clay with rough hands and a gentle soul. Though his earnings were meager, Harun was content. What he lacked in wealth, he had in love—for his wife, Amina, was not only beautiful but kind-hearted and wise.

Amina’s beauty was the talk of the village. With eyes like dusk and hair as black as night, she turned heads wherever she went. But it wasn’t her looks that made her remarkable; it was her grace, humility, and unwavering love for Harun. Despite the hardships they faced, Amina never once complained. She wore her patched clothes with pride and stood beside Harun, even when their pantry was bare and their roof leaked in the rain.

Every morning, Harun would set off with his pots, walking to the market, hoping to sell enough to buy rice and lentils. Amina stayed behind, tending to their small garden and helping neighbors whenever she could. Her presence was a balm to many, and her smile gave hope even to those more fortunate than her.

One day, news spread that the sultan of the land was visiting the village. A great feast was being prepared, and everyone was invited. Curiosity buzzed like bees as villagers gathered in their finest clothes. Harun, hesitant and shy, wore his only clean shirt, and Amina, with a scarf around her hair and the softest smile on her lips, walked beside him.

As the sultan arrived, his eyes scanned the crowd—and stopped when he saw Amina. Enchanted by her beauty, he summoned Harun and offered him gold in exchange for his wife. Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Harun stood frozen. He looked at Amina, and she, without flinching, took his hand. “Your Majesty,” Harun said, voice trembling, “gold may buy many things, but not love. My wife is not for sale.”

The sultan laughed at first, then grew serious. “You dare refuse a royal command?”

“I do,” Harun said, firm now. “Because what we have cannot be bought.”

Moved by the couple’s courage and loyalty, the sultan paused. “Very well,” he said after a moment. “You have taught me something no amount of riches ever could. Love like yours is rare.”

To everyone’s surprise, the sultan rewarded them—not with gold, but with land, tools, and clay. “May your hands always be full,” he said.

Years passed, and Harun and Amina prospered—not through wealth alone, but through the love and respect they had earned. They built a home where laughter echoed, raised children who learned the value of kindness, and remained as devoted to each other as they had been in poverty.