 Lower your heads and let us imagine we were present on the darkest of days in history. The days when the Prophet of Allah had just departed from this world, the skies were darkened and the righteous ones from the heavens and the earth were all in the states of panic and grief. The close and true companions of the Prophet felt this deep loss and were left with a hole within their hearts. All of us have experienced some form of loss in the form of a close friend, a relative. But which of us had to go through what these pure companions went through? Indeed losing a dear friend and teacher, now that you have this sense of sorrow in your minds and hearts, can we even begin to imagine the way Zahra felt? Never for her pain it is not comprehensible. We can't fathom what those days were like for our dear Zahra. But this pain was just the beginning for her. The wound of losing her father was never allowed to heal as the enemies of Allah kept on reopening this wound. Yes reopening this wound. They stopped her from mourning her father and they stole the rights of her imam and beloved husband. How she must have felt I cannot begin to imagine and nor would I want to for the burden would surely cause me an immediate death. Usually, usually after someone's father passes away you visit their house to offer your condolences and to recite what we call a Fatah Majlis. Ask those oppressors, when they gathered at the house of Fatima, were they there to recite a Fatah for Rasulullah? Or were they there to recite a Fatah for Muhsin? As we remember the death of Zahra, we sit here and go through the events. Just remember that because of those tyrants, just a few close companions were there to help Imam Ali alaihi salam, bury his dear wife. Just think of the snapping, just think of the snapping, your mind with the Zahra, and just think of the snapping grip, just think of the snapping grip. This is the store as a rich and in a rate and each strength to read. They circle and shout it out. Now, which faith allows the poor singigians, just think of the snapping, just think of the snapping grip. She came to the abuser, Zahra speaks, did more, he does not care, sets the house light if he must. What kind of a Muslim he proved to be. Just think of the snapping, just think of the snapping grip, just think of the snapping, just think of the snapping grip. No one came and began. They cried, between the door and her sanctuary, and began beating her as they walked inside. In April of she must have left, mohsin soul was extracted from her, have lost my unborn child. Indeed her youngest son was the first to go, back to his lord he returned weight in such a vicious attack on his mother. A short while later, she too lay dying, again fit the pure, was beside her, but asnain returned back home as an offer. Your mind with the mama Ali, Ali's wife's body, live on after finding those ribs, and the marks of the lips all over your back, a funeral consisted of a few, close companions of the pure ehlul bet, and Ali then sat and cradled his young wife's grave.