Sweetness ensues

This morning at work Abi, Chloe, Maryam and I ended up sharing some of our favorite stories of 'Abdu'l-Baha (son of Baha'u'llah, and examplar of Baha'i ideals) and one of them brought tears to my eyes, thinking of the immensity and vastness of His love and the infinite reservoir of His tenderness. I thought to share a few of them. Sweetness ensues:

Nothing has been said, so far, of 'Abdu'l-Bahá's keen sense of humour. A small incident in the course of His last afternoon in London illustrates it. A reporter wished to know what 'Abdu'l-Bahá's future plans were. To that reporter's astonishment, 'Abdu'l-Bahá spoke in English, and said that He was going to Paris, and then back to Egypt. How well 'Abdu'l-Bahá pronounced English, the reporter remarked. Whereupon He rose up and, pacing the room, uttered a number of complicated English words, such as hippopotamus', and then laughingly said, 'Very difficult English words I speak.'
(H.M. Balyuzi, Abdu'l-Baha - The Centre of the Covenant, p. 154)

Another eyewitness has related the following story of 'Abdu'l-Bahá in Dublin. Early one morning, when He was in the grounds of the Inn dictating to a secretary, an old man, obviously a tramp, came shuffling along the street. 'Abdu'l-Bahá noticed him and told His secretary to go and call him in. He took the old man's dirt-crusted hands in His, and spoke to him with love and affection. It was as if He had known this weary, dejected tramp all His life. And then He saw how filthy and torn the old man's trousers were. At that hour of the day no one was about. 'Abdu'l-Bahá walked towards the porch of the Inn, wrapped His long-flowing 'aba round Himself, took off His own trousers, gave them to the old tramp, and told him: 'May God go with you.'
(H.M. Balyuzi, Abdu'l-Baha - The Centre of the Covenant, p. 238)


"Once, when I lived in Baghdad," ['Abdu'l-Baha] went on, "I was invited to the house of a poor thorn-picker. In Baghdad the heat is greater even than in Syria; and it was a very hot day. But I walked twelve miles to the thorn-picker's hut. Then his wife made a little cake out of some meal for Me and burnt it in cooking it, so that it was a black, hard lump. Still that was the best reception I ever attended."
(The Diary of Juliet Thompson)

When His visitors had arrived, 'Abdu'l-Bahá had sent out for some candy and now it appeared, a great five- pound box of expensive mixed chocolates. It was unwrapped and 'Abdu'l-Bahá walked with it around the circle of boys, dipping His hand into the box and placing a large handful in the hands of each, with a word and smile for everyone. He then returned to the table at which He had been sitting, and laying down the box, which now had only a few pieces in it, He picked from it a long chocolate nougat; it was very black. He looked at it a moment and then around at the group of boys who were watching Him intently and expectantly.
Without a word He walked across the room to where the [black] boy was sitting, and, still without speaking, but with a humorously piercing glance that swept the group, laid the chocolate against the black cheek. His face was radiant as He laid His arm around the shoulder of the boy and that radiance seemed to fill the room. No words were necessary to convey His meaning, and there could be no doubt that all the boys caught it. You see, He seemed to say, that he is not only a black flower, but also a black sweet. You eat black chocolates and find them good: perhaps you would find this black brother of yours good also if you once taste his sweetness.
Again that awed hush fell upon the room. Again the boys all looked with real wonder at the [black] boy as if they had never seen him before, which indeed was true.
And as for the boy himself, upon whom all eyes were now fixed, he seemed perfectly unconscious of all but 'Abdu'l-Bahá. Upon Him his eyes were fastened with an adoring, blissful look such as I had never seen upon any face. For the moment he was transformed. The reality of his being had been brought to the surface and the angel he really was revealed.
(Howard Colby Ives, Portals to Freedom, p. 66)

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