LITMIR.BIZ

      Dedicated to my parents, who were my first storytellers: Shabbir Husain Gilani and Munir Fatima Bukhari.

       Thank you for always reminding me of my duty to God and the world. I love you.

      F. G.

      Copyright © The Islamic Foundation, 2010/1431 H, Reprint 2012/1433 H.

       Text copyright 2010 Fawzia Gilani

       ISBN 978-0-86037-473-2

      Author Fawzia Gilani

       Editor Fatima D’Oyen

       Illustrator Shireen Adams

       Cover/Book design & typeset Nasir Cadir

       Coordinator Anwar Cara

      Published by

       THE ISLAMIC FOUNDATION

       Markfield Conference Centre, Ratby Lane, Markfield

       Leicestershire, LE67 9SY, United Kingdom

       E-mail: [email protected] Website: www.islamic-foundation.com

      Quran House, P.O. Box 30611, Nairobi, Kenya

      P.M.B. 3193, Kano, Nigeria

      Distributed by

       Kube Publishing Ltd.

       Tel: +44(01530) 249230, Fax: +44(01530) 249656

       E-mail: [email protected] Website: www.kubepublishing.com

      All rights reserved.

       No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical,

       photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the copyright owner.

      A Cataloguing-in-Publication Data record for this book is available from the British Library

      eISBN: 978-0-86037-682-8

      In the name of Allah, the One God, the most Compassionate, the Most Merciful

      Cinderella

      AN ISLAMIC TALE

      Retold by

      FAWZIA GILANI

      Illustrated by

      SHIREEN ADAMS

      Once upon a time there lived a rich and noble

       man and a kind and beautiful lady.

      They had a daughter named Zahra who was sweet

       and gentle, and as beautiful as the crescent moon. Every

       day Zahra and her parents would read the Qur’an, and they never

       missed a prayer.

      As the months passed by Zahra’s mother became ill. Although many

       doctors had been called, no one could find a cure. One sad day Zahra’s

       mother died. Father and daughter were heartbroken.

      ‘Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji‘un,’ said the father with tears in his eyes.

       ‘Truly, we belong to Allah and to Him we will return.’

       Zahra and her father were very sad, but they put their trust in Allah

       and asked Him to grant them patience and comfort.

      After some time the father decided to marry again. He married a

       widow with two daughters. In the beginning, the new wife tried to be

       loving and caring. But as time went on she saw how graceful Zahra

       was compared to her own daughters. This made her extremely jealous.

       She saw that while Zahra was beautiful and elegant, her own daughters

       were plain and clumsy. While Zahra was humble and giving, her own

       daughters were proud and selfish. And while Zahra was gentle and

       kind, the stepmother’s daughters were rough and cruel.

      This was more than the stepmother could bear, and darkness grew in

       her heart. When her husband was away, the stepmother was harsh and

       unfair to the girl. She made Zahra do most of the housework while

       her own lazy daughters slept or played. But Zahra was forgiving and

       patient, and never complained to her father.

      A few years later, Zahra’s father became very ill. One day he called his

       daughter to his side and gave her words of love and advice.

       ‘My sweet child,’ he said, ‘Follow the Qur’an and the Sunnah, and never

       miss your prayers. Be patient and humble, always speak gently and share

       whatever you have with the poor. And know that I love you very much.

       May Allah protect you and make you a strong Muslim.’

      The poor child clung to her father.

       ‘You must hold fast to the rope of Allah and never let go,’ he said.

       ‘La ilaha ill-Allah Muhammadur rasulullah.’ These were the last words

       her father spoke.

      ‘Inna lillahi wa inna ilayhi raji‘un,’ whispered the poor girl as she wept.

       Zahra was alone in the world. She was an orphan with no one to love her.

      After her father died, the stepmother took away Zahra’s beautiful

       clothes and gave her old clothes and rags to wear. Then she took away

       her bedroom and made her sleep in the attic. From that time on Zahra

       was ordered to do all the housework.

      One day, as the poor orphan was tending the fireplace, some live

       cinders fell on her dress and burned holes into it. Trying to put out the

       cinders, she became covered with soot. Her stepsisters began to laugh

       at her. ‘Cinder-ella! Cinder-ella!’ they teased and taunted. After that

       they no longer used her real name, but only called her ‘Cinderella’.

      The orphaned child felt very sad. She missed her mother and father very

       much. She often thought of them. When she prayed,

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