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would walk, sometimes racing,
sometimes skipping, through the
streets and alleys of Makkah.
Wherever ‘Abd al-Muttalib went the
little boy followed. Even when he
sat with great and mighty kings, lit-
tle Muhammad never left his side.
They were inseperable, ‘Abd al-
Muttalib and Muhammad, his
charming grandchild.
It was a happy time again, a time
that Muhammad would never for-
get, a time that he wished would go
on forever, for soon thereafter,
tragedy was to come yet again, and
little Muhammad’s heart would be
broken into a million pieces more.
One dark night, ‘Abd al-Muttalib, the
great chief of all Arabia, became
terribly ill and soon, he too died.
The grandfather that the boy