Among the lessons contained in this parable is that Allah, Glorified is He, likens spending to sowing. Whoever spends his wholesome wealth for Allah alone sows his wealth in fertile soil. His yield depends on the seed he sows, the quality of the soil, and his care in watering the seed and removing weeds and unwanted growth. If these conditions are met, and no fire burns the crop or calamity overtakes it, it produces yields like mountains. Its likeness is that of a garden on a hill: an elevated place where the garden is exposed to the sun and winds, allowing its trees to flourish to the fullest. A steady downpour of large raindrops descends upon it from the sky, watering it and making it grow. Because of that downpour, it produces twice the yield of other gardens. If no downpour reaches it, a light rain suffices: rain with small drops. Its soil is so fertile that it thrives and grows on light rain alone. The mention of these two kinds of rain—the downpour and the light rain—also points to two kinds of spending: much and little. Some people’s spending is a downpour, while others’ is a light rain. Allah lets not even an atom’s weight go to waste.

If, however, something befalls this person that burns up his deeds and nullifies his good works, he becomes like a man who has:

“A garden of date palms and grapevines, beneath which rivers flow, containing every kind of fruit for him; then old age overtakes him while his offspring are still weak, and a fiery whirlwind strikes the garden, burning it down.”

When the day comes to receive the full return for deeds and to secure their rewards, this person will find that his deeds have suffered a fate like that of this man’s garden. His anguish then will be greater than the garden owner’s anguish over his garden.

This is a parable Allah, Glorified is He, sets forth about the anguish of losing a blessing of immense value and benefit at the very moment of greatest need. The man who has lost it has been overtaken by old age and weakness, so he needs his blessing more than ever. Moreover, he has weak offspring who cannot provide for him or attend to his affairs; rather, they are his dependants. His need for his garden is therefore greater than ever, because of his own weakness and that of his offspring. What, then, would his condition be if he owned a great orchard containing every kind of fruit, its principal produce being the finest and most beneficial fruits—dates and grapes—and its yield sufficed for both him and his offspring? Then one morning he awoke and