Even The Seeds

I’ve recently been toying with a story and reflecting on the lessons we can learn from it, and I thought I should share my thoughts. The first part of the story is one I’m sure most Muslim readers are familiar with; but it’s the second part, which many may not have heard, that has really had me thinking.

The story goes that after the passing of the Prophet (ﷺ), his successor was Abu Bakr (RA). This particular narration is shared with us by Umar ibn al-Khattab (RA) a man labelled the 52nd most influential person in history, who would later become Abu Bakr’s successor. Umar (RA) says that every day after the pre-dawn (Fajr) prayer, he would watch Abu Bakr (RA) walk in the opposite direction of his home and only return once the sun had risen.

Curious, Umar (RA) decided one day to follow the leader of the Muslims. He observed Abu Bakr (RA) leaving Madinah, travelling into the desert until he reached a small, isolated shack. He entered, stayed for some time, and then returned home. This happened again the next day, and the next, always the same shack, always the same routine.

Eventually, Umar (RA) waited for Abu Bakr (RA) to leave and then knocked on the door. He was answered by an elderly, frail, and blind woman surrounded by young children. Umar (RA) asked, “What state are you in, O servant of Allah?” She replied, “I am old, blind, and these children are orphans whom I care for.”

Umar (RA) asked her, “What is the matter with the man who visits you every day?” And she said, “He comes every day. He prepares our food, bakes our bread, washes our clothes, cleans our house, and then leaves.”

Then Umar (RA) asked, “Do you know who he is?”

She replied, “No, but he is a good doer.”

At this point, most people think the story ends. And truthfully, there are already deep lessons here. We learn about sincerity; how Abu Bakr (RA) did all of this without telling anyone, not even the woman he was helping. It was a secret act of service. And equally powerful is the restraint shown by Umar (RA): he never revealed Abu Bakr’s secret. He never told the woman who it was, never boasted or praised Abu Bakr publicly, and never even hinted to Abu Bakr that he knew.

It’s a reminder not just about guarding other people’s flaws, but about guarding their goodness too. Not everything needs to be posted or praised. Some things are better left between you and your Lord.

But the part of the story that has stayed with me, and keeps circling in my mind, is what happens next.

Years later, after the passing of Abu Bakr (RA), Umar (RA) himself became the Caliph. And he quietly took over the same task; visiting the same house, helping the same woman and children, and continuing Abu Bakr’s hidden legacy of care.

One day, as he finished his usual routine, the woman asked him, “Has your companion passed away?”

Umar (RA) was surprised. The woman was blind. She had never seen Abu Bakr (RA) and had no way of knowing someone new had taken his place. So he asked, “How did you know?”

She responded, “He used to remove the seeds from the dates when he brought them.”

At that moment, Umar (RA) began to weep. He cried and said:

“Oh Abu Bakr, you have exhausted the successors after you.”

That one detail.

That tiny, almost invisible act of kindness, removing the seeds from the dates, was what revealed the change.

It’s not that Umar (RA) didn’t do everything else right. He cooked, cleaned, and helped just as Abu Bakr (RA) had. But it was that small, thoughtful act that made the difference. The kind of thing only someone doing it with absolute sincerity, love, and attention to detail would think of.

And that’s what made me stop.

How many times do we do something just enough to tick the box? How often do we serve, speak, or study with our hands but not our hearts? How often do we do what’s necessary, but not what’s beautiful?

This moment is a profound lesson in intention, sincerity, and excellence - ihsān. It teaches us that the standard of work, of service, of goodness, is not doing what’s expected; it’s doing what’s thoughtful. Doing what only you would think to do. That’s where the bar is. And we know it deep down. We’ve all felt that difference when something is done with care vs. when it’s done out of obligation.

So what does this mean for us?

Sometimes, we’re the only person who can do a certain task. We’ve been given the opportunity, the tools, the moment. And what we bring to it, whether it’s half-hearted or wholehearted, is up to us.

You might be the only one who can comfort someone today.

You might be the only one who can lead a project, raise a child, deliver a lesson, or clean the kitchen.

So why not do it properly? Why not bring your whole self to the task?

You don’t lose anything when you do something well. But you will always feel the sting of having done something poorly, especially when you know you could’ve done better.

Final Reflection: Even the Seeds

The takeaway is simple, but powerful: Don’t become complacent. Don’t get comfortable with mediocrity. You owe it to yourself and to those who rely on you to bring your best.

We live in a world that’s quick to share the highlight reels: big moments, big wins. But I think the real measure of a person is found in what they do when no one is watching. In the quiet, consistent, sincere acts. The hidden things. The seeds were removed from the dates.

Because that’s what lives on in people’s hearts.

So whatever you’re doing today, remove the seeds. Be thoughtful. Be excellent. Be sincere.

That’s the legacy worth leaving.