When it was the night of the middle of Shaban, the Prophet ﷺ slipped out from beneath my cloak—meaning Aishah’s cloak. By Allah, it was not made of striped cloth, nor of silk, nor of linen, nor of cotton, nor of wool; rather, its warp was of hair, though its weft was of camel hair. I thought to myself that he might have gone to one of his wives, so I said, “Let me look for him in the house.” Then my hand fell upon his feet while he was in prostration, and I memorized from his supplication as he was saying:
“I prostrate to You with my darkness and my shadow, and my heart believes in You. I acknowledge to You Your blessings, and I confess to You my sin. I have wronged myself, so forgive me; indeed none forgives the tremendous sin except You. I seek refuge in Your pardon from Your punishment; I seek refuge in Your mercy from Your wrath; I seek refuge in Your pleasure from Your displeasure; and I seek refuge in You from You. Exalted is Your Face; I cannot enumerate praise of You. You are as You have praised Yourself.”
He continued standing and sitting until morning came, and morning came while his feet had become swollen. I said, “May my father and my mother be sacrificed for you—has Allah not forgiven you your past sins and your future ones?” He said: “O Aishah, should I not be a grateful servant? Do you know what is in this night?” I said, “What is in it?” He said: “In it, every child to be born in this year is written; in it, every one who will die is written; in it, their provisions are sent down; and in it, their deeds are raised.” I said, “O Messenger of Allah, does no one enter Paradise except by Allah’s mercy?” He said: “Yes.” I said, “Not even you?” He said: “Not even I—unless Allah envelops me in His mercy.” Then he wiped his hand over his head down to his face.