Hadith Texts
Hadith 34:
وَعَنْ أَنَسٍ رَضِيَ اللَّهُ عَنْهُ قَالَ: سَمِعْتُ رَسُولَ اللَّهِ صَلَّى اللهُ عَلَيْهِ وَسَلَّمَ يَقُولُ: «إِنَّ اللَّهَ عَزَّ وَجَلَّ قَالَ: إِذَا ابْتَلَيْتُ عَبْدِي بِحَبِيبَتَيْهِ فَصَبَرَ عَوَّضْتُهُ مِنْهُمَا الْجَنَّةَ». يُرِيدُ عَيْنَيْهِ. رَوَاهُ الْبُخَارِيُّ.
Hadith 35:
وَعَنْ عَطَاءِ بْنِ أَبِي رَبَاحٍ قَالَ: قَالَ لِي ابْنُ عَبَّاسٍ رَضِيَ اللَّهُ عَنْهُمَا: أَلَا أُرِيكَ امْرَأَةً مِنْ أَهْلِ الْجَنَّةِ؟ فَقُلْتُ: بَلَى. قَالَ: هَذِهِ الْمَرْأَةُ السَّوْدَاءُ أَتَتِ النَّبِيَّ صَلَّى اللهُ عَلَيْهِ وَسَلَّمَ فَقَالَتْ: إِنِّي أُصْرَعُ، وَإِنِّي أَتَكَشَّفُ، فَادْعُ اللَّهَ تَعَالَى لِي. قَالَ: «إِنْ شِئْتِ صَبَرْتِ وَلَكِ الْجَنَّةُ، وَإِنْ شِئْتِ دَعَوْتُ اللَّهَ تَعَالَى أَنْ يُعَافِيَكِ». فَقَالَتْ: أَصْبِرُ. فَقَالَتْ: إِنِّي أَتَكَشَّفُ، فَادْعُ اللَّهَ أَنْ لَا أَتَكَشَّفَ، فَدَعَا لَهَا. مُتَّفَقٌ عَلَيْهِ.
Full Translations
Hadith 34:
On the authority of Anas (may Allah be pleased with him) who said: I heard the Messenger of Allah ﷺ say: “Indeed Allah the Exalted said: When I test My servant by taking his two beloved ones and he is patient — I compensate him for them with Paradise.” — meaning his two eyes.
Hadith 35:
On the authority of ‘Ata’ ibn Abi Rabah who said: Ibn ‘Abbas (may Allah be pleased with them both) said to me: “Shall I show you a woman from the people of Paradise?” I said: Of course. He said: “This dark-skinned woman — she came to the Prophet ﷺ and said: I have seizures, and I become exposed during them — so make du’a to Allah for me. He said: If you wish, be patient and you will have Paradise. And if you wish, I will make du’a to Allah that He cures you. She said: I will be patient. Then she said: But I become exposed — so make du’a to Allah that I am not exposed. And he made du’a for her.”
Agreed upon.
Meanings of Key Words — Hadith 34
- Habibatayhi (حَبِيبَتَيْهِ) — his two beloved ones; the dual form of habibah — the most beloved, the most precious. The word is feminine in Arabic and applies to things of great intimate value. Anas — the narrator — clarifies immediately: he means his two eyes. The Prophet ﷺ called the eyes the two most beloved things a person possesses. Not the hands, not the legs, not hearing — the eyes. Because sight is the sense through which the world is most fully experienced, and losing it is among the deepest of sensory losses
- Ibtalaitu (ابْتَلَيْتُ) — I tested, I tried; Allah speaks in the first person again — a hadith qudsi. I tested. I took. The agency is divine, deliberate, and acknowledged
- Fa-sabara (فَصَبَرَ) — and he was patient; the fa is the conditional response — the single condition between the taking and the reward. If he is patient. That is all that stands between the loss of both eyes and Paradise
- ‘Awwadtuhu minhuma al-jannah (عَوَّضْتُهُ مِنْهُمَا الْجَنَّةَ) — I compensate him for them with Paradise; ‘awwada — to compensate, to give in exchange for what was taken. This is divine replacement — you gave up your two eyes, and I give you Paradise in their place. The exchange is explicitly named: the two eyes for the entirety of Jannah
Meanings of Key Words — Hadith 35
- Ata’ ibn Abi Rabah (عَطَاءُ بْنِ أَبِي رَبَاحٍ) — one of the great tabi’in — the generation after the companions — and a leading scholar of fiqh in Makkah. His narration from Ibn ‘Abbas carries enormous authority
- Ala urrika imra’atan min ahli al-jannah (أَلَا أُرِيكَ امْرَأَةً مِنْ أَهْلِ الْجَنَّةِ) — shall I show you a woman from the people of Paradise; Ibn ‘Abbas is not guessing. He is transmitting a prophetic identification — the Prophet ﷺ had recognised or indicated this woman’s station, and Ibn ‘Abbas preserved that knowledge and pointed her out while she was still alive and walking among the people
- Al-mar’atu al-sawda’ (الْمَرْأَةُ السَّوْدَاءُ) — the dark-skinned woman; the narration identifies her by this description, not by name. The scholars note that she was a known figure in Madinah — recognised by the community. Her anonymity in name but visibility in person is itself significant: she is pointed to, not named, because her station is shown through what she chose, not through lineage or title
- Usra’u (أُصْرَعُ) — I have seizures, I fall; the passive form — she is thrown down by it. The scholars of hadith identify this as epilepsy or a similar convulsive condition. It came upon her involuntarily and repeatedly
- Atakashhafu (أَتَكَشَّفُ) — I become exposed; during the seizures, her clothing would become disarranged and her body would be revealed. For a Muslim woman conscious of her modesty and her ‘awrah, this was a source of profound distress — not merely physical suffering but the involuntary violation of something she deeply valued
- In shi’ti sabartii wa laki al-jannah (إِنْ شِئْتِ صَبَرْتِ وَلَكِ الْجَنَّةُ) — if you wish, be patient and you will have Paradise; the Prophet ﷺ gives her a choice. He does not assume. He does not decide for her. He lays out two real options — each with its consequence — and leaves the decision entirely in her hands
- In shi’ti da’awtu Allaha an yu’afiyaki (وَإِنْ شِئْتِ دَعَوْتُ اللَّهَ أَنْ يُعَافِيَكِ) — if you wish, I will make du’a to Allah to cure you; the second option is equally real — the Prophet ﷺ would make du’a and she would be cured. This is not a lesser choice. This is the Prophet ﷺ offering intercession. Choosing to be cured was a legitimate and honoured path
- Asabiru (أَصْبِرُ) — I will be patient; her answer — two words in Arabic. No elaboration, no conditions, no lengthy deliberation recorded. She chose. She chose Paradise over cure
- Fadou laha (فَدَعَا لَهَا) — and he made du’a for her; for the specific thing she asked — that she would not be exposed during the seizures. She chose patience over cure, but she asked that the dimension of the affliction that threatened her modesty be addressed. The Prophet ﷺ made du’a for that specific request without hesitation
Hadith Lessons — Hadith 34
The Eyes — Why “Beloved Ones”
The Prophet ﷺ — in this hadith qudsi — chose a specific word for the eyes that is used nowhere else in this context: habibatayhi — his two beloveds. Not his two organs. Not his two faculties. His two most beloved things.
This naming does something before the hadith even reaches its teaching: it acknowledges the full weight of what is being taken. Allah is not minimising the loss of sight. He is not saying: this is a small thing, endure it gracefully. He is saying: I know what these are to you. I know how much you love them. I know what their loss costs. And because I know that — because I am taking your two most beloved things — what I am giving you in exchange is commensurate with that cost: Paradise.
The exchange is named explicitly: ‘awwadtuhu minhuma — I compensate him for them. The eyes are the currency. Paradise is what they purchase. Allah presents it as a transaction — not to diminish the loss, but to honour the person who endured it by making clear that what was taken was seen and what is given is proportionate.
One Condition Only
Fa-sabara — and he was patient.
That is the single condition between the loss of both eyes and the entirety of Paradise. Not a lifetime of additional worship. Not a specific number of prayers or a specific amount of charity. One quality, maintained in the face of the most intimate sensory deprivation a human being can experience: patience.
This is the chapter’s thesis statement made most compact. The gift of patience — established in Hadith 26 as better and more expansive than any other gift — produces, when applied to the greatest physical loss, the greatest of all rewards. The proportion holds at every scale.
Hadith Lessons — Hadith 35
Ibn ‘Abbas and the Living Proof
Ibn ‘Abbas — the companion the Prophet ﷺ made du’a for, saying “O Allah, give him deep understanding of the religion and teach him the interpretation” — did not merely narrate this hadith. He performed it. He took his student ‘Ata’ ibn Abi Rabah, pointed to a woman in the crowd, and said: shall I show you a woman from the people of Paradise?
She was alive. She was there. She was walking among people. And Ibn ‘Abbas knew her station — because the Prophet ﷺ had, through some transmission that reached Ibn ‘Abbas, identified her or her choice as carrying that guarantee.
This is one of the most remarkable framings in all of Riyad al-Salihin: a companion pointing to a living person and saying — that woman, right there, is from the people of Paradise. The teaching of patience is not abstract. It is embodied. It has a face. It is walking past you in the street.
The Choice She Was Given — and What It Reveals
The Prophet ﷺ gave her two real options.
Option One: Be patient — and you will have Paradise. Keep the illness. Keep the seizures. Keep the suffering. Receive Paradise as the reward for the patience with which you carry it.
Option Two: I will make du’a and Allah will cure you. The illness ends. The suffering ends. The Prophet’s ﷺ intercession secures your cure. You live the rest of your life in health.
Both options are presented without hierarchy. The Prophet ﷺ did not say: option one is better. He did not say: you should choose patience. He gave her the choice with full information about what each path carried — and he waited.
The scholars note the profound respect in this exchange. He treated her as a person capable of making a decision about her own life and her own relationship with Allah. He did not decide what was best for her. He gave her the knowledge and stepped back.
She chose in two words: Asabiru. I will be patient.
She chose an illness that threw her to the ground, repeatedly, involuntarily, for the rest of her life — over a cure that the Prophet ﷺ himself would make du’a for. She chose the harder path. She chose it knowingly, voluntarily, and immediately.
“But I Become Exposed — Make Du’a for That”
After her choice, she added one request: I become exposed during the seizures — make du’a that I am not exposed.
This detail is one of the most humanly precise moments in the entire chapter. She chose to keep the illness. She chose the pain, the falling, the vulnerability of a convulsive condition. But the aspect of it that troubled her most was not the pain — it was the involuntary exposure of her body, the violation of her modesty that happened against her will every time she fell.
She was not asking for a lesser suffering. She was asking that the dimension of the suffering that cost her something beyond physical pain — her dignity, her modesty, the protection of her ‘awrah — be addressed. She had accepted everything else. This one thing she asked to be spared.
And the Prophet ﷺ made du’a for her. Without comment, without explanation, without making her justify the request. She had chosen the harder path in full, and she asked for one specific mercy within it — and he honoured that.
The scholars of fiqh and tarbiyah draw several lessons from this exchange:
First: choosing patience over cure is not obligatory. Seeking treatment, making du’a for healing, asking for ‘afiyah — wellbeing and freedom from affliction — is entirely legitimate. The Prophet ﷺ himself made du’a for ‘afiyah regularly. Choosing patience does not mean refusing treatment or declining to ask for cure.
Second: within a chosen path of patience, specific requests for relief are not contradictions. She kept the illness. She asked for one specific mercy within it. Both things were true simultaneously. Patience is not all-or-nothing indifference to suffering.
Third: the Prophet ﷺ honoured both her choice and her request without ranking them. He made du’a for what she asked without suggesting she should have asked for less or more. Her judgment about what she needed — within the framework of her chosen path — was respected completely.
The Unnamed Woman — Known to Allah, Identified by Ibn ‘Abbas
She has no name recorded in the hadith. She is identified only as al-mar’atu al-sawda’ — the dark-skinned woman. She had no lineage of note, no rank among the companions, no famous deeds recorded beyond this single exchange. She was a woman with a chronic illness who came to the Prophet ﷺ with a request — and made a choice.
And Ibn ‘Abbas, one of the greatest scholars in the history of Islam, pointed to her in a crowd and said: that woman is from the people of Paradise.
Her station was secured not by what she did but by what she chose to endure and how she chose to carry it. She is the living embodiment of Hadith 26 — no gift better than patience — and Hadith 27 — the believer’s affair is all goodness — walking through Madinah in a body that fell to the ground in seizures, and carrying in that body the guarantee of Jannah.
Reading Hadiths 34 and 35 Together
Imam al-Nawawi placed these two hadiths together — and the pairing is instructive. Both concern specific, named physical conditions: blindness in Hadith 34, epilepsy in Hadith 35. Both are hadith qudsi or contain direct divine speech. Both result in the same reward: al-Jannah — Paradise.
But they differ in one crucial dimension: the path to the reward.
In Hadith 34, the blindness comes to the servant — it is not chosen. Allah takes the eyes, the servant is patient, and the reward comes. The patience is responsive — meeting what arrives.
In Hadith 35, the woman is given a choice. She could have been healed. She chose not to be. Her patience is not only responsive — it is elected. She looked at her illness and said: I will keep this, for Paradise.
Together, the two hadiths cover the full range of how patience and illness meet: the patience of the one who has no choice but to endure, and the patience of the one who is offered a way out and declines it. Both are rewarded with Jannah. Both are honoured. Both are valid paths.
What they share — and what makes them consecutive in this chapter — is the same foundation: the knowledge that what Allah has given and what Allah has taken are both in His hands, and that the response of the heart to what is in His hands is the only variable that determines what those things are worth.
Three Questions to Close With
- Ibn ‘Abbas pointed to an ordinary woman in a crowd and said: that is a woman of Paradise. Her distinction was not visible — it was interior, a choice she had made. Who around me might be carrying that kind of invisible distinction — bearing something with patience that I know nothing about?
- The woman chose to keep her illness for Paradise. Is there a difficulty in my life that, if I were given the same choice — keep it for Jannah, or be freed from it — I would genuinely choose to keep? And what does my honest answer reveal about where my heart actually is?
- She asked to be spared the exposure — the specific dimension of the suffering that touched her dignity — while keeping everything else. Within whatever difficulty I am carrying, is there a specific, legitimate mercy I should be asking Allah for — not to escape the difficulty, but to be spared the particular aspect of it that is hardest to bear?