How Do Wishes Come True?

Since I was a little boy, I would often wonder how God could make our deepest wishes come true. I believed that if I prayed hard enough, if I asked with all my heart, God would magically grant me what I wanted. I would imagine waking up one morning to find a shiny red bicycle that had somehow fallen from the heavens. Or I’d daydream about becoming a superhero, like the ones from my favorite cartoons. But none of those dreams ever came true.

I was angry. I couldn't understand how a God so powerful, who could do anything, would just ignore me. No matter how many times I raised my hands in prayer, pleading for my wishes to be granted, nothing changed. As I grew older, I started thinking, "Maybe that's not how it works with God. Maybe I'm supposed to make my own dreams happen." I became convinced that miracles weren't real, just stories we told ourselves.

Years passed, and now I'm in my 50s. Something happened to me recently that changed my perspective. It brought me back to those childhood moments when I used to speak so purely to God.

One evening, while walking my dog in Abu Dhabi, we took our usual route through the parks around my home. My dog has a mind of his own and often chooses our path, leading us wherever he feels like exploring. On this particular day, he led me to a quiet, isolated park we didn’t usually visit.

As we walked, I noticed a gardener sitting with his back against a wall. There are tens of gardeners around the compound, so nothing seemed out of the ordinary at first. But as I got closer, I saw he was holding a worn-out wallet, staring inside, and speaking quietly on a video call, probably with his family back in India or Pakistan. His eyes were wet with tears, and though he said nothing, I could feel his silent prayer, with his hands raised above his head his desperate wish being sent up to the heavens.

He didn’t see us. He wasn’t begging or asking for help. But at that moment, something moved inside me. I felt an invisible pull, like a force greater than myself guiding my steps. Without thinking, I walked up to him and greeted him with "Al Salam Aleikum," meaning "May peace be upon you." He was startled. I smiled, reached for my wallet, and without hesitation, gave him all the money I had—about 600 or 700 dirhams. I swear, if I had more, I would have given him that too.

He looked at me, eyes wide, speechless. He didn’t even say thank you, but he didn’t need to. I could see the gratitude in his tear-filled eyes. As I walked away, I glanced back and saw him raising his hands to the sky again, but this time, I knew he wasn’t asking for help. He was thanking God.

At that moment, something deep inside me shifted. I felt a warmth, a peace I hadn’t known before. And suddenly, I remembered my childhood, those nights I spent with my hands raised, begging for a miracle. Now, at 50, I finally understood how God works. There are no bicycles falling from the sky, no sudden transformations into superheroes. But there are miracles—quiet, unseen, and profound.

God answers prayers, not by granting wishes the way we imagine as children, but by sending us into each other’s lives. He makes us the instruments of His mercy. That gardener’s wish didn’t fall from the sky—it walked up to him, guided by a simple walk in the park, and answered his prayer when he least expected it.