A touching story sent to me via email

True Story of A Brother

Since I was born I suffered from Exema on my hands and arms and now I am 19 years of age and still suffering from such disease. Alhamdulelah it goes for a while but it comes back infected and inflamed.

I always looked around me and saw other people's hands and arms in perfect condition and I would go back home and cry so much that my tears would fill a bucket. I was bullied so much in Secondary School because of my Exema and I was treated like dirt and abused because of my belief in Islam. One day in class I cried for over an hour my eyes stung because of the class saying abusive things to me and the teacher did NOTHING because he hated my faith which was apparent.

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I feel so alone sometimes. I suffer SO much that I cannot go outside unless my sleeves of my shirt cover most of my hands. I cannot make Salat in the Masjid without worrying that someone is going to look at my hands and not want to shake them or that they will give me a bad look. I cannot eat outside or be with my friends without feeling worried that they are going to see my hands.

When I do Wudu with water, my hands sting so much I cry. After Wudu I will make my Salat trying to blot out the pain that I am going through with my hands...

About three year ago I was sinking into severe depression. I was suffering so much and everything was just sinking deeper and deeper. I would stay up every night just worshipping Allah, begging him for mercy and help.
I really thought that Allah abandoned me and hated me.

Then one summer was a summer I would never forget. For six weeks in a row I had dreams that words would never be able to describe in 100% detail....