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"The earth is but one country, and mankind its citizens."
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"The earth is but one country, and mankind its citizens."
By Various · 2024
Modern era (1957–present) · in copyright
Existing curated stories from bahaistories.com (per user, we have rights to use).
Stories by era covered
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“After my father's departure many months passed; he did not return, nor had we any word from him or about him. We were all in great sorrow, and made constant inquiries, hoping to hear some rumour which would enable us to trace him.”
“> When we heard these things, we were convinced that this Dervish was in truth our beloved one. But having no means to send him any word, or to hear further of him, we were very sad.”
“Oh, won’t it be wonderful when at last we are liberated from the body and we’ll be able to fly throughout the universe.”
“My Interview with Laura Dreyfus-Barney (Paris 1967)”
“The wise are they that speak not unless they obtain a hearing, even as the cup-bearer, who proffereth not his cup till he findeth a seeker ….”
Stories of Bahá'u'lláh
Secondary RetellingAli-Akbar Furutan · 1986
Stories Told by 'Abdu'l-Bahá
Primary SourceVarious Compilers · 2000
Mahmúd's Diary: The Diary of Mírzá Maḥmúd-i-Zarqání
Primary SourceMírzá Maḥmúd-i-Zarqání · 1998
The Revelation of Bahá'u'lláh (4 volumes)
Secondary RetellingAdib Taherzadeh · 1974
The Priceless Pearl
Secondary RetellingRúhíyyih Khánum · 1969
The Summons of the Lord of Hosts
Primary SourceBahá'u'lláh · 2002
After Siyyid Kázim's death, Mullá Ḥusayn prayed and fasted for forty days and set out to find the Promised One. At the gate of Shíráz the Báb welcomed him, and that night He declared His mission.
When a Bahá’í spoke up for a young Persian, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá explained that He would overlook any wrong done to Himself, but could never countenance or aid a deed that would injure the Faith.
While Bahá'u'lláh lived in solitude in the mountains, His family in Baghdad heard of a dervish who had comforted a weeping schoolboy and written him a beautiful copy. Bahíyyih Khánum recalled how they became convinced it was their father.
On the voyage to Mecca a jealous shaykh abused the passengers, and the Báb most of all. When the captain ordered him thrown overboard, the Báb held on to him and begged the captain to forgive him.
Laura Dreyfus-Barney recalled a day in ‘Akká when ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, looking out over the Mediterranean, spoke of how wonderful it will be to be liberated from the body and fly throughout the universe.
Riding to a hotel in Chicago, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá explained that He bore the hardships of His travels in America because He feared that, after Him, self-seeking persons might disturb the love and unity of the friends.
On the voyage into exile at ‘Akká, Jinab-i-Munib fell gravely ill. The Master and Mirza Musa carried him to a hospital at Smyrna, but when the Master returned with fruit for him, he had died.
Letitia, a Catholic girl who taught French in the Master's home, was embarrassed after interpreting for a pilgrim. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá assured her that no one would try to make a Bahá’í of her.
When the landlord in New York complained about His many visitors, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá did not argue but moved out, showering the staff with such love that they felt ashamed and begged Him to stay.
Given fur so that He could have a warm coat, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá had it made into twenty caps for the elderly men of the town.
Given fur so that He could have a warm coat, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá had it made into twenty caps for the elderly men of the town.
In a tale from Sa‘dí’s Garden of Roses, translated by Marzieh Gail, a wise man calms a terrified slave by having him thrown into the sea, because only one who has known calamity values safety.
Nettie Tobin, who was not well off, brought a builder's rejected stone to the Wilmette Temple site by baby carriage, streetcar and a borrowed wagon, and the Master used it at the dedication of the land.
When a man ill with tuberculosis was shunned even by his family, the Master visited him every day, brought him delicacies, read to him, and was alone with him when he died.
An unhappy visitor from New York asks why ‘Abdu’l-Bahá always greets her in ‘Akká with “Be happy!” and what the spiritual life is. His answer stays with her, and she learns to know the spiritual life.
Urged to cross to America on the new Titanic, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá sailed instead on the slower Cedric. Asked why, He said His heart had not prompted Him to take the Titanic.
In the years after ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s passing, Shoghi Effendi often withdrew to Switzerland to recover his health and strength, walking for many hours and climbing in the Bernese Alps.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá tells of a rich man who gladly left his fortune to go on pilgrimage and a poor man who could not leave his donkey, to show that fortune is not necessarily an impediment to detachment.
In Washington in April 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, though weary, was so moved by the love between Black and white friends at the Dyers’ home that He spoke, likening their union to a string of pearls and rubies.
Bahíyyih Khánum recalls how, when Bahá’u’lláh was banished from Adrianople, a false report that He would be parted from His family and followers led one of them to try to take his own life, until ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s protest kept them together.
Haji Mirza Haydar-'Ali tells of a man so afraid of being found with the Kitáb-i-Íqán that he hid it in a stable manger, until he reflected on the fearlessness of its Author and became a believer.
British guns were trained on Jerusalem, then held by the Turks. Reluctant to fire on the holy city, the British command asked headquarters what to do and was told to pray. Not a gun was fired.
An American mother reached ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s house in Paris two days before He left. Her little daughter had pointed to His photograph on a magazine in a shop and cried that it was the Lord Jesus.
A woman visiting the Master in Haifa in May 1910 told Him she had had many sorrows. He told her to forget them, then shared Persian tea with her and gave her a package to take away.
In New York on 13 April 1912 a young single-taxer asked ‘Abdu’l-Bahá what message to take to his friends. The Master laughed and told him that in the Kingdom of God there is plenty of land and no taxes.
In London ‘Abdu’l-Bahá heard laughter from the kitchen and went to share the joke between a Persian servant and an English housekeeper. He laughed heartily and gave each of them a small gold coin for being happy.
After a sleepless night on the train, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá reached Denver on 23 September 1912. Within hours He was meeting reporters, and that evening He spoke to a crowded gathering at the home of Mrs. Roberts.
Feny Paulson travelled from Montana to see ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in Salt Lake City and spent a dismal night at the YWCA. His first words to her were about luxury and comfort, and He told her He was her father.
Before the First World War ‘Abdu’l-Bahá had villagers grow and store corn, which fed the poor of Haifa and ‘Akká through the famine years. After the British occupation He was knighted, in April 1920.
On 13 May 1912, ill with a high fever, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá still went to speak at the New York Peace Society’s meeting at the Hotel Astor, telling Juliet Thompson that He worked by the confirmations of the Holy Spirit.
In ‘Akká, where there was no hospital, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá quietly paid a doctor to treat the poor. When a crippled woman named Na'um caught measles and was shunned, He gave her a room, His own bedding and every care.
As His party waited to leave London by train, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá went on calmly writing. Then a man arrived with a garland and, in the name of the disciples of Zoroaster, hailed Him as the promised Sháh Bahrám.
In a Tablet to the Bahá’ís of Canada, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá recalls how He was warned not to go to Montreal, and how, trusting in God, He went and found every door open and the hearts receptive.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá gave freely of love, time, food, money and more while gladly accepting deprivation for Himself. In America He left fine rooms for a simple apartment, yet tipped generously and spoke without pay.
Recalling a gathering of children years later, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told how He had jokingly asked a little girl to marry one of the boys, and she answered that she wanted an Eastern husband.
Comforting a woman who still grieved for a baby lost more than twenty-one years before, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told her that when His own four-year-old son died, He did not grieve, for He had given him to God as a trust.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá would begin a conversation with something simple, such as the weather, a stone or a bird, and weave it into a parable of spiritual truth, speaking easily and clearly in brief phrases.
When war came in 1914, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá moved the Bahá’ís of Haifa to the Druze village of Abú-Sinán, where vegetables He had taught them to grow and corn from ‘Adasíyyih kept many from hunger.
In a 1974 talk in Wilmette, Hand of the Cause Abu’l-Qásim Faizí recalled ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s explanation that the earth is faithful, generous and patient while fire is greedy, and urged Bahá’í youth to be like the earth.
While living in the house of Bahá’u’lláh’s brother in ‘Akká before her marriage, Munírih Khánum could watch ‘Abdu’l-Bahá swimming in the sea from her window. She remembered Him as a strong and graceful swimmer.
In October 1912 ‘Abdu’l-Bahá visited Charles Tinsley, a Black believer in San Francisco confined to bed with a broken leg, and told him a parable of a ruler who trained through hardship the subject he loved.
A recollection of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s majestic presence, of the love that flowed from Him to everyone near Him, and of His constant adjuration: “Do as I do. Be as I am.”
Throughout His travels ‘Abdu’l-Bahá paid His own costs and declined offers of money; in Washington He asked Mrs Parsons to give her gift to the poor instead.
As the New York friends met to form their first Local Spiritual Assembly, a cablegram from ‘Abdu’l-Bahá sent them to Matthew 19:30, and they learned a lesson in humility.
Before speaking at New York’s Bowery Mission in April 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá had two thousand-franc notes changed into quarters, and He pressed a gift of silver into the hand of each man there.
In Montreal ‘Abdu’l-Bahá took the streetcar to save a dollar, then gave each of the Maxwells’ servants a pound; at Phoebe Hearst’s estate each servant received ten dollars.
At the dedication of the Wilmette Temple site on 1 May 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá set aside the golden trowel He was given and broke the ground with an ordinary axe and shovel.
Though He wept over the sufferings of Bahá’u’lláh and His companions, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá lived His own teaching that the soul who lives in the spiritual Kingdom knows perpetual joy.
Worn out by the train journey from Denver in September 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá stopped at Glenwood Springs, bathed in the hot springs with His companions and said He was relieved of fatigue.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá loved laughter. Once He laughed so heartily that His turban became disarranged; He told Juliet Thompson and May Maxwell that they rested Him, and He could not tell one joke for laughing.
Weakened in health on His third visit to Paris in 1913, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá some evenings took only milk and bread, and on the 27th He moved to a hotel in Rue Lauriston for a few days' rest.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá prayed with His hands held out and slightly bent, palms turned toward His breast, as though already gathering in the blessings He prayed for.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s family dressed simply, as an example to the rich and an encouragement to the poor. When one of His daughters married in a clean dress, He explained that what she did not need He would give to the poor.
On His first morning in Washington, amid many interviews, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá spent half an hour with Agnes Parsons’ young son Jeffrey, looking at his toys, books and pictures before they went up to the roof to see the view.
As a child, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá visited His Father’s flocks in the mountains. Told He must leave the shepherds a present, He gave them all the sheep, and Bahá’u’lláh laughed that one day He would give Himself away.
When a child asked why all the rivers of the earth flow into the ocean, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá answered that the ocean sets itself lower than them all and so draws them to itself.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá visited the sick, sent daily to ask after them, and quietly paid a doctor to care for the poor of ‘Akká. When a poor, crippled woman with measles was shunned, He arranged her care and, at the last, her funeral.
Chains, locusts, the bombardments of Haifa and the threat of death could not shake ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s calm. Lua Getsinger wrote of the calm majesty with which He went about among the people, whose only hope and help He was.
Prayer sustained ‘Abdu’l-Bahá through deep sorrow and grave danger. At times He prayed through an entire night, and He often prayed that His conditions might become more severe so that His strength to meet them might increase.
With a smile, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told a group in America of a wife who had her husband wipe the dust from her shoes but did not do the same for him, and urged the ladies sometimes to stand up for the rights of men.
New York newspapers could not agree on how many people met ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, with reports ranging from about forty to fully a thousand, and some of them added strange remarks of their own.
Unwell with a cold on His chest during His second visit to Stuttgart, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá was told by physicians to stay indoors, yet He went to the waiting audience, spoke on world peace, and stopped to comfort a weeping woman.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá recalled a believer imprisoned with Bahá’u’lláh in ‘Akká who, with only a rug, a samovar, a cup and a teapot, made his tea each afternoon with such gratitude and joy that every cup seemed better than the last.
Before leaving for Minneapolis, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá asked Corinne True to speak about the Faith in public; when she protested that she had no training, He told her to turn her heart wholly toward Him.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá never sought publicity and disliked being photographed, saying a picture of oneself emphasizes the personality; in London He at first refused, then consented to make the reporters and the friends happy.
At eight ‘Abdu’l-Bahá grieved over His Father’s sufferings; in Baghdad He prayed without ceasing while Bahá’u’lláh was away in Sulaymaniyyih, rejoiced at His return, and drank in the teaching at the gatherings by the Tigris.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá told of a Persian believer who, travelling in the wilderness, could not sleep for fear his new shirt would be stolen, until he decided to get rid of it so he could rest.
To show the need for one common language, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told of four hungry travellers who quarrelled over what to buy for supper until a donkey laden with grapes showed that all four wanted the same thing.
At a luncheon in Dublin, New Hampshire, in 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá set leaders of society laughing, and told them how in prison the believers had sought out funny things at the end of each day and laughed together.
Rúḥíyyih Khánum recalled how ‘Abdu’l-Bahá carried flower-pots two miles in the heat to the tomb of Bahá’u’lláh, and pumped water there until He was too stiff to walk away.
In Montreal in 1912 ‘Abdu’l-Bahá bought gifts at Henry Birks' jewelry shop to give to people as He traveled. At the Maxwells' home He gave one pound to each of the servants.
At a hotel in Glenwood Springs in 1912, a waiter set no place for Saichiro Fujita because he was a servant; ‘Abdu’l-Bahá had a chair brought and seated him among them.
In 1906, on the anniversary of the Báb's Declaration, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá helped prepare a feast for over two hundred guests and, serving them, asked each to forgive anyone who had wounded him during the past year.
During the 1912 American election year, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá said in California that a president should be free of ambition for name and fame and should seek the public good, not his own.
Howard Colby Ives recalled how ‘Abdu’l-Bahá listened patiently to a clergyman's long questions, then spoke to him with such love that the visitor was transformed, and sent him off with an armful of roses.
In Dublin, New Hampshire, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá called back a ragged old man passing the inn, stepped into a shadow, and gave him His own trousers with a blessing.
After His release in 1908, American believers begged ‘Abdu’l-Bahá to visit. In 1911 He told Juliet Thompson that His invitation to America would be the unity of the believers.
Lady Blomfield told of seeing broad rays of golden light pour from ‘Abdu’l-Bahá over a London congregation as He spoke, flooding some people and avoiding others completely.
Leaving Buffalo in 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá left a dollar for the absent chambermaid, yet refused a driver's overcharge, saying one should never yield to a wrongful demand.
When ‘Abdu’l-Bahá was very tired, Agnes Parsons suggested He rest and not worry about the constant stream of visitors. He thanked her and rested until nearly four o'clock.
On a walk in Vienna in 1913, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá gave money to charity collectors and to children in the park until He and His attendants had nothing left.
At a Christmas party for the poor in London in 1912, some children took ‘Abdu’l-Bahá for Father Christmas. At East Sheen three little children sat quietly on His knee while He spoke of the purity of children’s hearts.
At the Pumpellys’ home in Dublin, New Hampshire, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told a tale with a moral and then a lively Arabian story that filled the room with laughter. On the way home He asked, with a child’s simplicity, whether they were pleased.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá would not accept money for Himself. He returned a cheque meant to buy Him a motor-car so that it could go to the poor, and asked an American lady to educate two motherless girls instead of giving to Him.
In Port Said in 1910, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá explained to Siyyid Asadu’lláh why He had left Haifa without telling anyone: He must always move according to the requirements of the Cause.
Told he could come on pilgrimage once his debts were paid, an Egyptian merchant spent five years clearing them. Arriving unrecognized in Haifa, he was found by ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, who spent the night praying beside him.
At the Unity Feast in West Englewood in June 1912, a sudden storm broke just as the meal was announced. Juliet Thompson watched ‘Abdu’l-Bahá sit at a distant crossroad, His face upturned to the sky, until the clouds raced away.
As the Cedric reached New York on 11 April 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá had telegrams sent to the believers in East and West and remarked how easily the ocean had been crossed, while messages of welcome poured in.
When a merchant in ‘Akká seized the exiles’ charcoal, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá sat quietly in his shop for three hours. Their talk about Christ won the merchant’s respect; he paid back the money and became a lifelong friend.
Worn out after seeing a hundred and forty people and speaking at the Mortens’ home in New York, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá went up to rest, but crowds followed. When Juliet Thompson asked to shut the door, He gently said to let them come.
At the dedication of the Temple site in Wilmette on 1 May 1912, the golden trowel could not break the ground, so ‘Abdu’l-Bahá swung an axe. Women and people of many races then dug, and He declared the Temple already built.
After the First World War the Mattoon family sailed from the United States with their two small daughters to visit ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. He told them never to forget Christ, so they also visited the Holy Places of Christianity.
Howard Colby Ives followed ‘Abdu’l-Bahá to His room in New York. In the stillness the Master simply asked whether he was interested in renunciation, and Ives, without words, left His presence with his soul treading the heights.
On her second pilgrimage in 1920, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told Agnes Parsons, a speaker for the Faith who often hosted traveling teachers, to organize a convention for racial unity, a tradition-breaking task for a woman of her social standing.
On pilgrimage in ‘Akká in 1909, Juliet Thompson stayed up late instead of resting as the Master had asked, and argued about whether the New York Assembly was united. The next morning ‘Abdu’l-Bahá looked deep into her eyes and took her hand in a clasp of love.
Alice Buckton asked ‘Abdu’l-Bahá about psychic forces. He told her not to tamper with them in this world. As a child in the womb has eyes and ears it does not use until it is born, He said, these forces belong to the next world.
When Ḥájí Amín brought the believers' offerings to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, the Master said something was missing. Praying in his room, Ḥájí Amín found a poor woman's coin in the lining of his coat, and the Master said it was worth more than all the rest.
Dorothy Baker almost always opened her talks with a prayer, and before approaching the platform she often said a prayer of Bahá'u'lláh asking that her speech bear a trace of God's exalted Word.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá encouraged the Save the Children Fund and twice gave fifty Egyptian pounds to the Haifa Relief Fund. The Military Governor wrote to thank Him for His well-known generosity and care of the poor.
As a student at Oxford, Shoghi Effendi loved tennis and excelled at it. His partner J. C. Hill remembered him switching his racket from hand to hand with lightning speed, laughing most of the time.
As Bahá’u’lláh was led through a jeering crowd, an old woman begged the guard for a chance to throw her stone at His face, and He told them not to deny her.
On Christmas night 1912 ‘Abdu’l-Bahá spoke to a thousand homeless men at a Salvation Army shelter in London; at New York’s Bowery Mission He spoke to the men and gave each the price of a bed.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá remembers Fátimih Begum, widow of the King of Martyrs, who bore persecution, poverty and the death of her son with thankfulness, but could not survive her grief at Bahá’u’lláh’s passing.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá remembers Hájí Mírzá Muhammad-Taqí, the Afnán, who believed after one reading of the Kitáb-i-Íqán, gave nearly all he owned to build the first Bahá’í House of Worship in ‘Ishqábád, and died near the Shrine of the Báb.
An American family asked if they might visit ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. He replied that they could come when they could travel in comfort, and in 1919, after the war, it was arranged for the Randalls to start for Haifa.
At ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s table in ‘Akká an American pilgrim sat among people of many races who had come to love one another, and heard the Master speak of meeting again in the worlds of God.
After three fruitless years teaching the Faith in Jamestown, New York, Doris and Willard McKay were urged by Dorothy Baker to say the invocation “Yá Alláh El-Mustagáth”; Doris later saw in those prayers the beginnings of the Jamestown Assembly.
Bahá’u’lláh recounts how Muhammad, who had prayed toward Jerusalem, was commanded in the midst of the noontide prayer to turn toward the Ka‘bih, and how this change tested His companions.
Leroy Ioas recalls that until Shoghi Effendi passed away in England he was sending cables about work to finish before his return, which suggests he did not expect to die.
Howard Colby Ives recalls how ‘Abdu’l-Bahá met every questioner first with silence, listening so completely that He seemed to listen with the speaker’s own ears.
A homeless man who had resolved to end his life saw ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s picture in a newspaper and walked thirty miles to find Him; the Master welcomed and comforted him, and he left with a new purpose.
An early pilgrim saw that in ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s house, followers of religions who would ordinarily not even eat together lived in perfect love and harmony.
A governor of 'Akká who had kept the Bahá'ís from visiting their Master was dismissed. 'Abdu'l-Bahá, Himself still a prisoner, sent him good wishes and a precious ring and offered to help him.
A pilgrim brought an exquisite silk carpet from Persia for 'Abdu'l-Bahá. The Master said so beautiful a gift belonged in the Shrine of Bahá'u'lláh, and after a joyful journey to Bahjí He spread it there Himself.
Leroy Ioas recalls the Guardian's humility: Shoghi Effendi never spoke of "the days of the Guardian", and he stopped Ioas from ever mentioning his name in the same breath as the Master's.
Troubled by cables from America, Shoghi Effendi asked Leroy Ioas about a National Assembly meeting, then described the meeting and the spirit behind it himself, explaining that God gave him a feeling in his heart.
In 1919 thirteen-year-old Bahíyyih (Margaret) Randall visited 'Abdu'l-Bahá in Haifa. When she asked how she could serve the Faith, the Master paced the room and answered, "Study. Study. Study."
When Mírzá Mihdí, the Purest Branch, died in 'Akká in 1870, Shaykh Maḥmúd asked for the honour of washing his body while the grieving Most Great Branch kept watch outside the tent. He was buried beyond the city walls.
Howard Colby Ives asked 'Abdu'l-Bahá three times what detachment meant. The Master said nothing until they reached His room, then turned and gently asked whether he was interested in detachment.
Leroy Ioas recalls how Shoghi Effendi praised even the gardeners, looked at people's good deeds rather than their shortcomings, and bore with great forgiveness the suffering caused by relatives who had turned away from the Cause.
During 'Abdu'l-Bahá's visit to segregated Washington, D.C., He shocked white socialites by insisting that Louis Gregory, an African-American Bahá'í and lawyer, be seated next to Him at a society luncheon, and He asked the Bahá'ís to hold integrated meetings.
On a drive near Thonon in 1911, peasant children selling violets crowded around 'Abdu'l-Bahá. He bought all their flowers and gave to each child bountifully, and when they held out their hands for more, He gently said, "Tell them that they have taken."
At a crowded meeting in the Hotel Rittenhouse in Philadelphia, some guests had to sit on the floor. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá was delighted: the Occident was sitting on the floor like the Orient, and He called it a cause of unity.
Driving up Broadway with Juliet Thompson in April 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá smiled at the electric signs and told His companions that Bahá’u’lláh had loved light and had taught that it should be used freely.
In a time of danger in ‘Akká, the Spanish Consul offered ‘Abdu’l-Bahá an Italian ship on which to escape by night. He refused, sending word that the Báb and Bahá’u’lláh had not run away, and neither would He.
Grieving over a family rift, Juliet Thompson’s mother went through a thunderstorm to visit ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. His words of comfort took away her bitterness, and she regarded it as a miracle.
Asked in New York about the long lives recorded of people in ancient times, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá explained that a family was once called by the name of one person, so later ages mistook the family’s span for one founder’s life.
At Gallipoli, foreign consuls offered to secure refuge in Western Europe for Bahá’u’lláh and His family, but He would not abandon His followers. Bahíyyih Khánum recalls the hungry, frightened voyage that followed.
Four months after the death of the Purest Branch, the exiles were moved out of the barracks of ‘Akká. Bahá’u’lláh and His family went to the house of Malik; most companions lodged in the Khán-i-‘Avámid, later the first pilgrim house.
Near the end of a long address at Stanford University in 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá asked why anyone would fight and kill over the earth, which is in the end only our grave.
In London, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá asked a suffragist why women should have the vote. When she said humanity cannot soar with only one wing, He playfully offered to prove that woman is the stronger wing.
At a meeting in New York in 1912, Ella Goodall Cooper was taken with a woman. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá asked what the woman had been saying and told her to be very careful. Ella heeded Him, though she did not then understand.
A high official of the United States government asked ‘Abdu’l-Bahá how best to serve his country. He was told to work, as a citizen of the world, to apply the principle of federalism to the relations between nations.
Urged on by the Master's enemies, the governor of Haifa visited ‘Abdu’l-Bahá wearing Bahá’u’lláh’s cloak and spectacles. The Master said nothing and treated him with courtesy, and later hastened to free him from prison.
When Juliet Thompson asked about His daughter Rúḥá Khánum, who had been very ill, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá said He had put her in the hands of the Blessed Perfection and no longer worried.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá gave a fine wool cloak to a poor man who asked for a garment. The man complained that it was cotton and not good; the Master reproved him, then had him given a coin as well.
The Washington Bahá’ís were divided by the racial customs of the day. When a Unity Feast was booked at a hotel that refused Black guests, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá insisted that all attend, and they sat side by side.
A woman asked ‘Abdu’l-Bahá for a special work. He entrusted to her the orphaned son of her worst enemy, and she wept that she now knew what the Bahá’í Cause means.
On Christmas night 1912 ‘Abdu’l-Bahá spoke to about a thousand homeless men at a Salvation Army shelter in Westminster. He left money for another dinner on New Year’s night, and the men rose to cheer Him.
In May 1940 the Guardian, Rúḥíyyih Khánum and her father tried to reach England from Italy. A British Consul who remembered ‘Abdu’l-Bahá stamped their passport, and after anxious days at St Malo they sailed for Southampton.
In the summer of 1848 eighty-one followers of the Báb gathered at Badasht as Bahá’u’lláh’s guests. Táhirih appeared unveiled and called for a break with the past, and Bahá’u’lláh eased the tension that followed.
When Yúnis Khán handed ‘Abdu’l-Bahá a poem full of exalted titles, the Master was deeply grieved and said He considered Himself lower than every believer. Seeing Yúnis Khán's distress, He then comforted him.
The owner of the land for the Báb's Shrine on Mount Carmel, influenced by Covenant-breakers, was unwilling to sell. After a night in which ‘Abdu’l-Bahá repeated a prayer of the Báb, the owner came and begged Him to buy it.
Stripped of His outer garments and in chains, Bahá’u’lláh was driven barefoot to the dungeon of Tihrán. When an old woman begged for a chance to throw her stone in His face, He told the guards not to deny her.
The Vazír dreamed that his son Bahá’u’lláh swam in a limitless ocean, with a multitude of fishes clinging to His hair. A soothsayer explained the dream, and after meeting the boy praised Him greatly.
In Haifa, thirteen-year-old Bahíyyih Randall saw ‘Abdu’l-Bahá tenderly feed the aged Ḥaydar-‘Alí. When she asked him what he had done to serve the Faith, he said he had not done as much as an ant could do in the path of God.
Each year before winter set in, 'Abdu'l-Bahá arranged for the poor of 'Akká to receive cloaks at a clothing shop, adjusting the garments on some of them Himself and keeping a record of those He helped.
Ali-Kuli Khan, Persia’s representative in Washington, longed for a prayer to say in moments of sudden need. On the drive from the station, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told him how, as a boy, He had cried “Yá Allah el Mustaghas!” all night before Bahá’u’lláh returned to Baghdad.
In April 1912 ‘Abdu’l-Bahá spoke to several hundred men at the Bowery Mission and placed coins in each hand. The quarters left over He gave to a chambermaid, who later came to thank Him and to ask Him to pray for her.
When Corinne True tearfully told ‘Abdu’l-Bahá of the sad things she had had to bear, His answer brought peace to her heart, and she later became a great support for anyone who had lost a loved one.
At Cadogan Gardens, before leaving London in 1913, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá said that teaching the Cause called for undivided attention; for six months He had not written even to His sister and daughters, because He must teach.
Agnes Parsons, in whose Washington home ‘Abdu’l-Bahá stayed in April 1912, recorded His gifts to her family: an ink well for her son, an illuminated manuscript for her husband, and a pair of glasses for her.
On the evening of her wedding Munírih Khánum received Bahá’u’lláh’s blessing, then awaited ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in the bridal room. The service was very simple, with no choir, decorations or cake, just cups of tea.
Before leaving London, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá married a young Persian couple, asking each whether they loved the other with all their heart and soul. The writer recalls the simplicity of His own wedding and His words on the holiness of marriage.
Major Tudor Pole recorded, while noting that he could not vouch for it at first hand, how ‘Abdu’l-Bahá foretold that ‘Akká would be surrendered to two unarmed British soldiers, and how that came about.
Thornton Chase, the first Western believer, felt the Bahá'ís were not ready for the Master's visit to California, and died in Los Angeles as He reached San Francisco. He left his Bahá'í papers to John Bosch.
Visitors from far countries who stayed on while the Master taught were invited to lunch with Him. So often were there nineteen at table that Lady Blomfield's household came to expect it, and He often served the guests with His own hands.
Corinne True's son Davis was critically ill when 'Abdu'l-Bahá visited him in Chicago on 30 April. Davis died while the Master kept Corinne busy; yet she was at the Temple site the next day, and the Master later prayed at the cemetery.
While 'Abdu'l-Bahá was again confined to 'Akká, Corinne True brought Him a petition signed by over a thousand American believers asking to build a House of Worship. He held it high with joy and told her to make a beginning.
On pilgrimage, Corinne True met the martyr's widow who served tea to the Master's family each morning, and marvelled at His household of over forty people of many races and nations, where no word of dispute was heard.
A cleaning woman, ashamed of her rough, work-worn hands, meant only to touch 'Abdu'l-Bahá's robe and slip away. He took her hand, raised her up, looked at it with deep love, and said one word: “Sacrifice!”
Corinne True's daughter Arna feared she had tuberculosis and felt she could not marry Leo Perron. 'Abdu'l-Bahá took her thermometer, broke it in two, and told her she would be well and could marry. She soon recovered.
At Lady Blomfield's table in London, 'Abdu'l-Bahá spoke of the blessings of freedom and wished the courses could be shared with the poor and hungry. His hosts at once resolved to simplify their dinners.
Pioneering to South America, Elizabeth Cheney met illness, failed funds and broken travel plans. When her river boat sank at night, she clung to a floating log and gave the Message to the woman who shared it.
When Shoghi Effendi, aged five, begged the Master to write something for him, 'Abdu'l-Bahá told him to memorize and chant the prayers of Bahá'u'lláh. The boy chanted them so loudly the whole neighbourhood heard.
Dr J. E. Esslemont, 'Abdu'l-Bahá's guest in Haifa in the winter of 1919–20, recalled how the Master charmed pilgrims at His table with humorous stories and gathered people of every race and religion in friendship.
Driving back to Thonon in 1911, 'Abdu'l-Bahá stopped the car to sit above a spectacular waterfall and delighted in the beauty of the countryside. He then told Juliet Thompson that His invitation to America would be the unity of the believers.
Before leaving America, 'Abdu'l-Bahá refused the believers' money and asked that the presents they brought for His family be sold for the Mashriqu'l-Adhkár, saying the love of God is the best of all gifts.
On the last night of His life, when 'Abdu'l-Bahá's night-robe needed changing to cool His fever, no other could be found. He had given it away.
On an evening visit to the Library of Congress, 'Abdu'l-Bahá insisted on seeing each bronze figure in the rotunda, saying, “When one undertakes to see a thing one should see it.” The superintendent ordered the lights left on.
Bahíyyih Khánum recalls the order for a new banishment from Adrianople, the believers' grief at a threatened separation from Bahá'u'lláh, the wait at Gallipoli, and the crowded eleven-day voyage that followed.
Travelling east across America, 'Abdu'l-Bahá refused sleeping-car berths so as not to depend on bodily comfort. The next night He had six berths reserved, saying too much austerity was not good, and insisted that all share equally.
After an afternoon of long conversations with Professor Ignaz Goldziher and other notable visitors, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá reached a public meeting in Budapest barely able to speak, yet He delivered a powerful talk.
As British guns prepared to shell Haifa in 1918, frightened Bahá’ís came to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. He called them to prayer and assured them all would be well, and the shells passed harmlessly over the town.
Mirza Mihdi, the Purest Branch, served as Bahá’u’lláh’s amanuensis. Aqa Rida remembered him as a pillar of strength to the exiles, reading to them from the Supreme Pen and teaching them courtesy, patience and dignity.
Bahíyyih Khánum recalls the night Bahá’u’lláh came home to His family in Baghdád after more than two years as a dervish in the mountains, and how the young Abbas Effendi threw Himself at His Father’s feet, weeping.
A 1936 United States government report describes how ‘Abdu’l-Bahá organized farming near Tiberias during the First World War, averting famine for the Bahá’ís and for many of the poor of all religions, and was afterwards knighted for these services.
Bahíyyih Khánum recalls how, as a youth in Baghdád, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá argued with the learned men in the mosques, who came to call Him the youthful sage. Asked who His teacher was, He answered that His Father had taught Him.
When some of His Persian companions remarked that there was better tea than the one Corinne True served in Chicago, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá drank it and said it was very good because it had been prepared with love.
Writing a century after the death of Mirza Mihdi, the Purest Branch, the Universal House of Justice recalls his dying plea to his Father and the words in which Bahá’u’lláh revealed the meaning of his sacrifice.
After ‘Abdu’l-Bahá saved Haifa’s people from wartime starvation, the British knighted Him in 1920. He came to the ceremony quietly, not in the elegant car sent for Him but in the horse-drawn carriage that His faithful servant Isfandíyár brought for Him.
At a public meeting in San Francisco in October 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá said that nations at the apex of material progress were like healthy bodies empty of spirit, and that Americans would attain perfection when the spirit of divine civilization was breathed into them.
During Ethel Rosenberg’s eight-month stay in ‘Akká in 1904, she asked ‘Abdu’l-Bahá why He had to endure such suffering. He answered that God’s teachers could not guide others unless they themselves underwent every kind of suffering.
Early in His imprisonment in ‘Akká, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá joined a discussion between a Muslim and a Christian in a butcher’s shop, and the news of it began His great popularity in the city.
During ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s stay at the Parsons home in Washington in April 1912, the household was called together for His short talk and blessing, and He gave each servant a silk handkerchief.
In Egypt a carriage driver demanded an unfair fare and shook ‘Abdu’l-Bahá by His sash, but the Master paid only what He owed and told him honesty would have earned a handsome tip.
Visiting the poet Elizabeth Gibson Cheyne and her invalid husband, Dr T. K. Cheyne, in Oxford, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá was moved to tears by her loving care and called her an angelic woman.
Elizabeth Greenleaf had long wished, without telling anyone, for a white Bahá’í ring-stone. One day she opened an old locked trunk in her attic and found one lying on top.
Even amid crowded days in London, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá stayed calm and clear about His purpose. Before leaving in 1913 He told the friends that teaching the Cause called for undivided attention.
Returning late at night after an exhausting day of speaking in America, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá had to be almost carried to His room, yet within fifteen minutes He was calling for His secretary with renewed energy.
Rúḥíyyih Khánum describes how, in 1922–24, Shoghi Effendi wrestled with doubts about his own worthiness to succeed ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, as his letters from those years reveal.
On the voyage to America in 1912, American friends asked that the Persians travelling with ‘Abdu’l-Bahá alter their attire to suit the time and place. He replied that there was no harm in it and that such matters were trifles.
When apartheid laws forbade integration, the South African Bahá’í community chose not to divide into separate racial bodies but to limit membership of its administration to black believers, until integrated bodies were possible again.
Longing to answer the Guardian’s call for pioneers to South America, the convalescent Grace Ober fell and ended up in a wheelchair, where she met guests from Chile, Argentina, Peru and Brazil and gave them the Message.
Florence Khánum recalls two sayings of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá: “Be patient, be as I am,” and, to someone discouraged about acquiring every virtue, “Little by little; day by day.”
Thornton Chase recalls a meal in ‘Akká in 1907: ‘Abdu’l-Bahá would not eat until all His guests were served, then bade them begin with “Bismillah!” and spoke of the love that had drawn them together.
When His wife ordered a fine new coat for a visit from the Governor of ‘Akká, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá asked her to send it back and have five ordinary coats made for the same price, so that He could give four away.
Stripped of His possessions since the Síyáh-Chál, Bahá’u’lláh lived simply; once He gave a companion bound for Istanbul an old pair of His slippers so that new shoes of the right size could be bought.
Through the spring and summer of 1912 the California Bahá’ís longed for ‘Abdu’l-Bahá to come west, while His messages wavered between hope and doubt, until in August He wired John Bosch that He would travel to the West.
Bahíyyih Khánum recalled that four days before the exiles left the garden outside Baghdád in 1863, Bahá’u’lláh told ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, and then four others, that He was the One promised by the Báb, asking them to keep it secret.
In 1948 Shoghi Effendi personally directed the cutting away of rock behind the Shrine of the Báb, on his feet from early morning until dark for months, so that the work would be done quickly and economically.
In January 1853 Bahá’u’lláh, banished from Persia, set out with His family for Baghdad; through the worst of the winter they crossed the snow-bound mountains and reached the city in April.
Bahíyyih Khánum recalled how, on the 1863 journey from Baghdád to Constantinople, her brother ‘Abdu’l-Bahá guarded Bahá’u’lláh day and night, snatching sleep ahead of the caravan with His head on His horse’s neck.
George Townshend, once a canon of St Patrick’s Cathedral in Dublin, writes that spirituality was the dominant element in ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s character, whose single aim was servitude to God.
Gloria Faizi explains the Master's wide love through an example He once gave: a crushed letter from a beloved is no less precious for its condition, and so we can love anyone as God's creature.
Grace very much wanted to attend the Unity Feast at West Englewood, but Dr Krug wanted her to play golf with him. 'Abdu'l-Bahá told her she must always consider the Doctor, who later became a Bahá'í.
In Adrianople a messenger of Bahá'u'lláh foretold to Haji Mirza Haydar-'Ali how a devoted merchant, granted wealth, would fall away, lose everything and at last return to serve the Cause as a poor man.
Trying to live by guidance, Harry Randall walked all afternoon, praying at every corner, until he reached a house where a woman had dreamed the night before of the visitor who would bring her wonderful news.
Taken reluctantly to meet 'Abdu'l-Bahá, Harry Randall found the Master accepting a tea invitation he had never given. At the tea He went straight to Harry's frail wife, Ruth, whose doctor found her healed the next day.
Late in August 1912 Harry Randall asked 'Abdu'l-Bahá to help his wife Ruth, who had tuberculosis. The Master visited her that afternoon, and two weeks later her doctor found her well.
A man twice prevented from seeing 'Abdu'l-Bahá wrote a heartbreaking letter showing that he thought himself rebuffed. When it was translated, the Master at once put on His coat and, deeply grieved, went out alone.
At their first meeting in New York in 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá sat knee to knee with Howard Colby Ives, wiped away his tears, told him one must always be happy, and laughed.
Sailing for America in March 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá called the table set for morning tea a divine table, spoke of gratitude, and asked for His first good bath in several months.
In Montclair, New Jersey, in June 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá went to the market, oversaw the kitchen and often cooked for His guests, while for Himself a piece of bread and some cheese sufficed.
In Denver in 1912 'Abdu'l-Bahá told of a traveller who could not sleep for fear that a gift of a robe would be stolen, and threw it away to find rest.
Juliet Thompson describes the Cedric reaching New York in April 1912, and Siyyid Asadu'lláh's report that 'Abdu'l-Bahá laughed at His first sight of the Wall Street skyscrapers and called them the minarets of the West.
At the Golden Links Club in Boston in July 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá said Arabic would not become the universal language and explained how Esperanto could become universal.
Leroy Ioas recalls how Shoghi Effendi embraced and kissed Charles Dunning, the plainly dressed Knight of Bahá'u'lláh for the Orkney Islands, and seated him beside himself at dinner.
Myron Phelps tells how 'Abdu'l-Bahá met a man in 'Akká who denounced Him for twenty-four years with food, clothing and care, until the man came weeping to ask His forgiveness.
Ugo Giachery describes being overwhelmed on first entering the Shrine of Bahá'u'lláh, and Shoghi Effendi explaining that evening the spiritual influence of the earthly remains of the Messengers of God.
On His third visit to Paris, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá was often too weak to go to meetings in the Bahá’ís’ homes, yet He kept receiving visitors at His hotel, saying that Bahá’u’lláh had trained Him to shoulder the burdens of others.
Wary after years of disappointed hopes, Howard Colby Ives was persuaded to visit ‘Abdu’l-Bahá at the Hotel Ansonia, where he was called into the Master's room and, in a long silence with Him, found the faith he had sought.
Howard Colby Ives explains that ‘Abdu’l-Bahá's courtesy was really reverence for the soul in every person, and recalls how the husband of His hostess in Dublin called Him the most perfect gentleman he had ever known.
Howard Colby Ives recalls ‘Abdu’l-Bahá serving His guests with His own hands while eating nothing Himself, and His simple answer when asked to be honorary chairman of a Bahá’í Assembly.
When Howard Colby Ives's Brotherhood Church in Jersey City had to close for lack of funds, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá wrote to him that this had happened so that he might be free to call the people to the Kingdom.
When a group of boys came to meet ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in New York, He greeted the only Black boy among them as “a black rose,” and the other boys looked at him with new eyes.
An unschooled miner who travelled far on foot to hear ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in San Francisco was so absorbed in His words that he took the interpreter for an intruder, never realizing the Master was speaking Persian.
Howard Colby Ives describes how ‘Abdu’l-Bahá taught souls: He never argued, pressed a point or told him what to believe, but showed by His own voice and manner how one should be.
In April 1912 the explosives inventor Hudson Maxim argued the case for modern weapons with ‘Abdu’l-Bahá at the Hotel Ansonia; the Master urged him instead to practise the science of peace and invent “guns of love.”
Bahá’u’lláh was born in Tehran in 1817. As He grew, His father, Mirza Buzurg, marvelled at His wisdom, dreamed of Him swimming in a boundless ocean, and heard a soothsayer foretell that no one could stand in His way.
In New York in June 1912, before a few days' rest at Montclair, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told the friends of His wish to give an outdoor feast of unity, like a Persian garden, at which all would be His guests.
Howard Colby Ives asked ‘Abdu’l-Bahá why he should believe in Bahá’u’lláh. After a long silence the Master spoke of the sincerity a minister's heart must have, and only months later did Ives realize his question had been answered.
In a 1912 talk in Washington, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá recalled Isfandíyár, the black servant of Bahá’u’lláh, who, though hunted by the Sháh's officers while Bahá’u’lláh was in prison, would not flee until he had paid every debt of the household.
Hand of the Cause John Robarts told of a Toronto friend who prayed all the way to the airport, missed his flight to a Chicago wedding, and still arrived on time on another plane while the first was grounded in Detroit.
On 14 April 1912 ‘Abdu’l-Bahá gave His first public address in America at New York's Church of the Ascension. Juliet Thompson recalls how He likened material civilization to a lamp's glass and spiritual civilization to its light.
Bahíyyih Khánum recalls how, after Bahá’u’lláh withdrew from Baghdád, her brother ‘Abdu’l-Bahá grieved deeply and spent His days copying and memorizing the tablets of the Báb.
Longing to be perfect yet despairing of his own weakness, Howard Colby Ives asked ‘Abdu’l-Bahá how he could ever reach so high a goal. The Master answered that it is accomplished little by little.
Struggling to give up smoking, Howard Colby Ives asked ‘Abdu’l-Bahá for help. Instead of a lecture, the Master told him not to let it trouble him, and two days later the desire left him for seven years.
When a car given to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá reached port as a weekend began, Shoghi Effendi went to officials' homes for their signatures and had it at the Master's door though it was not a business day.
Leroy Ioas praised the way Shoghi Effendi had built the Administrative Order. The Guardian answered that he had no blueprint: God guided him one step at a time, and the Bahá’ís must share his confidence in that guidance.
Munírih Khánum recalls how Bahá’u’lláh summoned her from Iṣfahán, her guarded journey by way of Mecca to ‘Akká, and her simple wedding to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, at which Bahá’u’lláh Himself chanted the prayers.
John Robarts tells of friends who say they do not pray, and of a young man, sure God could never forgive him, who was comforted by the words “Prayer is a ladder by which everyone can ascend to heaven.”
Leroy Ioas describes Shoghi Effendi’s day in Haifa: prayer from 5:30 in the morning, his vast mail, the pilgrims from East and West and the International Bahá’í Council, until late at night, every day of the week.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá recalls how a grave illness at the age of seven kept Him in Tehran while Bahá’u’lláh was imprisoned there, so that He was able to go with Him into exile in Iraq.
Ali Nakhjavani tells believers in South Africa of a short Tablet in which ‘Abdu’l-Bahá hopes their relationship to the Cause will be like a ray’s to the sun rather than a flower’s to a garden, and reflects on why.
Ibn-i-Asdaq begged Bahá’u’lláh for the station of utter self-sacrifice. In a Tablet of January 1880, Bahá’u’lláh answered that service to the Cause is the greatest of deeds and that one may live and yet be counted a martyr.
Myron Phelps, a visitor to ‘Akká, describes a crowd of the poor, blind and aged waiting in the street, and the Master coming out to give each of them coins and a kindly word.
In 1907 Corinne True watched from her window as the Master gave money and words of kindness to two or three hundred of the poor of ‘Akká, as He did every Friday morning.
On pilgrimage in 1909, Ethel Rosenberg asked ‘Abdu’l-Bahá how the friends could increase their numbers. He answered that they should love each other very much, for love is the foundation of everything.
Reluctantly brought to hear ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in Boston in 1912, William Randall carried Him some grape juice and was asked to sit. After twenty restless minutes the Master spoke words that became a turning point in his life.
In 1914 The Christian Commonwealth described ‘Abdu’l-Bahá going about ‘Akká doing good, honoured by the officials who visited Him, and working from sunrise till midnight despite broken health.
In a letter to the friends in Denver and in talks in New York, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá counselled that the Faith be taught through sociability, pure deeds and sweet speech, through love and sacrifice for one another, and with care for the listener’s needs.
Visiting Haifa at thirteen in 1919, Margaret (Bahíyyih) Randall was told by ‘Abdu’l-Bahá that her name means light, but that there is no light without something within. Asked how she could serve, He answered, “Study. Study. Study.”
Besides His own family, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s household included orphan children and widows of martyrs, and Mary Lucas saw in it a home where everything was done in the spirit of love.
In ‘Akká the Master kept giving His own bed to feverish people He found lying on bare ground, sleeping on the floor or the roof Himself until His situation was discovered and a kind friend gave Him another.
A man in ‘Akká hated ‘Abdu’l-Bahá so much that he turned his back whenever they met. When a narrow street forced them face to face, the Master told him his hatred could never be as strong as His love.
Dr. Florian Krug raged against his wife Grace’s new faith and threatened to have ‘Abdu’l-Bahá thrown out of his house. When the Master came, He asked him, ‘Dr. Krug, are you happy?’ and his opposition ended.
In California, despite fatigue and physical ailments, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá welcomed everyone with a beaming smile and asked, ‘Are you happy?’
Recalling the days in Ṭihrán when Bahá’u’lláh was imprisoned and their home sacked, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told how His mother gave Him flour to eat instead of bread, yet they were contented.
At Thonon in 1911 ‘Abdu’l-Bahá embraced the exiled prince Ẓillu’s-Sulṭán, whose family had persecuted the Bahá’ís, and asked to meet his sons; the elder of them later became a Bahá’í.
In Persia in the early days of the Faith, a mujtahid of Yazd threatened to punish a kebab-shop worker for chopping meat to a rhythm. In such a society, Bahá’u’lláh declared music a means of upliftment and joy.
In late May 1912 ‘Abdu’l-Bahá had to leave His New York lodgings because of the stream of visitors, but when the staff saw His kindness as He departed, they were ashamed and begged Him to stay.
Years later Leroy Ioas described the visitors who came to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá from dawn onward, and the swift answers with which, in a single moment, He might decide someone’s destiny.
In London, inquirers who stayed on at mealtimes were invited to dine. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá led the humblest guest to the seat at His right and put each one at ease, and as many as eighteen might be served by the Master Himself.
In Minneapolis a rabbi asked ‘Abdu’l-Bahá to speak in his synagogue. When the Master mentioned His years of imprisonment, the rabbi remarked that we are all in prison in this world, and ‘Abdu’l-Bahá said He had been resigned and joyful even then.
In New York a young supporter of tax reform asked ‘Abdu’l-Bahá what message to take back to friends. Laughing, the Master said to invite them into the Kingdom of God, where there is plenty of land and no taxes on it.
In Paris a man from India told ‘Abdu’l-Bahá that his aim in life was to spread the message of Krishna. The Master did not argue; He replied that Krishna’s message, like that of all God’s prophets, is the message of love.
Rúḥíyyih Khánum found almost no mention of the Second World War in her diaries, though it threatened the World Centre and the Guardian himself. She saw that silence as a measure of the pressures he carried in those years.
In San Francisco on 22 October 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá foretold a great war and said the generality of mankind would one day reproach statesmen who send them into war while they themselves live in comfort.
John Robarts came to speak to a community that needed a ninth believer to form its Assembly. When the only non-Bahá’í in the room fell asleep, he prayed for help, woke the man with a loud quotation, and the man became a Bahá’í that evening.
The Báb and Quddús spent about two months on a rough sea voyage from Búshihr to Jiddah. Through storms and hardship they remained calm, the Báb revealing writings and Quddús taking them down.
At Glenwood Springs, Colorado, in 1912, Saichiro Fujita brought a big watermelon back to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. The Master began eating it at once with His hand, declining a knife and fork, and it was shared with all the Bahá’ís.
On a drive through Montreal in 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá stopped at the quiet Roman Catholic cathedral and went in. There He spoke of the sacrifice of Christ’s disciples, which had carried their faith so far, and urged His companions to follow in their footsteps.
In Shoghi Effendi’s childhood the family rose at dawn to pray and take breakfast with ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in His room. The children sat quietly and chanted when asked, and Shoghi Effendi learned to be always the first up and on time.
With only an hour ashore in Manila, Loulie Mathews tucked Bahá'í pamphlets onto library shelves. Months later the man who found them wrote asking for more, and a Bahá'í community grew there that regathered after the war.
Though the Báb's writings convinced him, Ḥájí Mírzá Ḥaydar-'Alí was tormented by doubts whenever he was alone, until a dream left him assured, joyous and thankful.
In 1923 Shoghi Effendi withdrew to the mountains of Switzerland in complete solitude to find strength for his high office, returning in November before the second anniversary of the Master's ascension.
On the morning of 30 June 1912 in New York, 'Abdu'l-Bahá served His companions tea with His own hand and told them that every confirmation they received came from Bahá'u'lláh.
On the morning of 20 September 1912, before leaving Minneapolis, 'Abdu'l-Bahá urged the friends to love one another, visit each other and act on God's commandments rather than be Bahá'ís in word alone.
Chained in the darkness of the Síyáh-Chál, Bahá'u'lláh felt the first stirrings of God's Revelation and saw the Maiden of Heaven, yet He told no one, awaiting the hour God had appointed.
Warned in 1918 that 'Abdu'l-Bahá was in serious danger, Lady Blomfield sought Lord Lamington's help; Lord Balfour had a cable sent to General Allenby to protect Him, and when Allenby took Haifa he cabled that 'Abdu'l-Bahá was safe.
At a feast on the first day of Ayyám-i-Há, nearly two hundred believers gathered in a tent at Mazra'ih, and Bahá'u'lláh called Ḥájí Muḥammad-Ṭáhir-i-Málmírí by name to sit at His table.
Loulie Mathews tried to teach the Faith in Paris through elegant teas, until a visitor scarred by the chains of prison with his Lord showed her how much she had to learn. 'Abdu'l-Bahá wrote that she would one day be a lion roaring through the Cause of God.
When Dr Yúnis Khán handed the Master a believer's poem addressing Him in exalted terms, 'Abdu'l-Bahá was grieved and affirmed His servitude, then comforted him with such loving words that his anguish turned to joy.
When ‘Abdu’l-Bahá heard in San Francisco in 1912 that Thornton Chase, the first Bahá’í in America, had passed away, He spoke of the fruitfulness of his life, and later prayed at his grave.
When ‘Abdu’l-Bahá came to Egypt, some newspapers wrote against Him. Rather than let the Bahá’ís answer them, He called the papers heralds of the Kingdom, and events turned out as He had said.
In the years after the Master’s passing, Shoghi Effendi would set out from Interlaken before dawn to walk and climb in the mountains, usually alone and often for ten to sixteen hours, as he later told Rúḥíyyih Khánum.
A floor maid came out of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s suite with her arms full of roses He had given her, and showed them to Ella Quant, exclaiming, “See what He gave me!”
Shaykh Maḥmúd of ‘Akká hated the Bahá’ís and laid hands on ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in the mosque, but the Master’s serene reply turned his anger into shame, and he became a devoted Bahá’í.
In a Tablet about backbiting, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá tells how Christ, passing a dead animal with His apostles, saw only the whiteness of its teeth, and calls this the conduct of the real Bahá’ís.
A poor man who brought wood to Bahá’u’lláh’s house admired a splendid rug there. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told him to take it and, as the man ran off with it, called after him with good humour.
Rúḥíyyih Khánum recalls that the Guardian as a small boy was the high-spirited ringleader of the children, and that ‘Abdu’l-Bahá once wrote a short sentence about how much he ran about.
At the 1938 National Convention in Wilmette, Grace Ober reported on her teaching trip and called for pioneers, whispered her congratulations to Harlan, and passed away in her seat.
Before leaving New York, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá gave Edward Kinney a pair of His boots. When the treasured boots vanished, Mr. Kinney examined his own conduct, prayed for forgiveness, and found them back in their drawer.
When the Báb was brought to Tabríz in 1847, crowds acclaimed Him and a crier warned that anyone who approached Him would be imprisoned. Yet Ḥájí ‘Alí-‘Askar was admitted to His presence seven times, as Mullá Ḥusayn had foretold.
Bahíyyih Khánum recalls how, while Bahá'u'lláh was imprisoned in Ṭihrán in 1852, Mírzá Yúsif, a Russian subject, helped her mother send Him food and hid the family in two little rooms near the prison.
In New York in 1912, Lua Getsinger told Grace Robarts that ‘Abdu’l-Bahá wished her to marry Harlan Ober, a man she scarcely knew. Grace obeyed, and the Master Himself performed their marriage.
With four months left in the Nine Year Plan, Dr Muhájir sent Jenabe Caldwell to Germany. A letter from the National Assembly drew forty-five German volunteers, who joined fifteen Alaskans in street teaching that succeeded once they prayed for loving hearts.
Ḥájí Amín served as Trustee of Ḥuqúqu'lláh for forty-seven years. Chained in the prison of Qazvín, he ate without complaint the food his jailers tainted, and with no home of his own he lived among the believers who welcomed him.
Nine days before His passing, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá addressed a talk in Haifa to John Bosch, the only Westerner present, explaining that hearts can speak without words and that real love shows itself in self-sacrifice.
Swiss-born winemaker John Bosch became a Bahá’í in 1905 and took “Justice” as his watchword. When ‘Abdu’l-Bahá wrote to him that the Book of Aqdas forbids both light and strong drinks, he thought it over and soon decided to retire.
In April 1912 John Bosch hurried from California to New York to meet ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. When he said he had come three thousand miles to see Him, the Master laughed and answered that He had come eight thousand miles to see John.
On 23 April 1912 ‘Abdu’l-Bahá addressed the more than 1,000 students of Howard University, with the faculty and many guests. Joseph Hannen recorded the audience’s breathless attention and the ovation that followed.
Julia Grundy, an early pilgrim, described a simple supper in ‘Akká at which ‘Abdu’l-Bahá welcomed and seated each guest, anointed them with attar of rose and served them Himself.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá told the artist Juliet Thompson that, though she was not eloquent, she taught well, because her heart taught and her feeling made people ask what she had.
On an outing for the Master’s birthday, a group of boys in a Bronx park jeered at ‘Abdu’l-Bahá and threw stones. He asked for the birthday cake, cut it into a piece for each boy, and they ran off happily.
In ‘Akká, Juliet Thompson told ‘Abdu’l-Bahá she was afraid she was not dressed well enough to meet the Persian believers. He answered that they do not look at the dress but at the heart.
At a Washington reception in April 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá congratulated Admiral Peary on reaching the North Pole and gently observed that, having found nothing there, he had relieved the public mind. Juliet Thompson recorded the scene.
While Juliet Thompson painted ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s portrait in America, He told May Maxwell she had a kind heart, Lua Getsinger a tender heart and Juliet an emotional one, and said that united they would make a great heart.
In Chicago, as John Bosch was paying his hotel bill before leaving for the West Coast, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá took his hand, brought him up to His room, and sent him off with a big cake and armfuls of fruit.
As Mrs C prepared to leave the household of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in ‘Akká, He came to bid her farewell and asked her, when she returned to New York, to talk to people about the love of God.
Kanichi Yamamoto, who became a Bahá’í in Hawaii, wrote to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in Japanese. When one of his letters arrived that His secretary could not read, the Master said He would rely on the Blessed Beauty and reply.
The poet Kahlil Gibran, Juliet Thompson's neighbor, asked ‘Abdu’l-Bahá to sit for him and came to love Him deeply. Years later, seeing the Master on film, he wept before the gathering.
As a small boy, Shoghi Effendi learned from his grandfather, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, to be on time, and became the first to get up for the family’s early prayers and breakfast in the Master’s room.
At Lake Mohonk in 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told some young people the fable of the mice who could not decide who would bell the cat, and likened it to the peace conferences of the day.
In 1907 a Commission of investigation came to ‘Akká, and a ship stood ready to carry ‘Abdu’l-Bahá away. As His dream had foretold, the danger passed; the ship sailed for Constantinople, and in 1908 He was freed.
During her 1909 pilgrimage, Juliet Thompson, held back by shyness, was called to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s room. As she wept, He wiped away her tears and said to her, “Speak. Speak to Me!”
On Christmas Day 1912 in London, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá called on Lord Lamington, then spoke to some five hundred people at a Salvation Army hostel and paid for their meal and another night’s lodging, as His guests.
When Helen Goodall, Ella Cooper and Harriet Wise came from California to New York in 1912, they found ‘Abdu’l-Bahá sitting on the steps of the house where He was staying, waiting for them. Days later He spoke to them of the kindness of God.
At the 1912 Lake Mohonk Peace Conference, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá sent Dr Zia Bagdadi overnight to New York for a Persian rug to give Albert Smiley, who received it with joy just as the Master was leaving.
After His Friday-morning gifts to the poor of ‘Akká in 1907, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told Corinne True that some of them were His enemies, yet He was kind to them, and explained how scarce work was in the city.
In Chicago in 1912 young Leroy Ioas bought white carnations for ‘Abdu’l-Bahá but asked his father to present them. After the talk, the Master turned to the boy and gave him the red rose from His own coat.
In Haifa, where shootings were common, Yúnis Khán secretly followed ‘Abdu’l-Bahá home one night. Three shots rang out, yet the Master walked on at the same pace, quietly praying, and bade him goodbye at His gate.
Near the end of Louis Gregory’s pilgrimage, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá expressed the wish that he and Louisa Mathew, a white English pilgrim, should marry. They did, and their marriage endured many pressures as a symbol of the unity of the races.
In ‘Akká, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá sent Lua Getsinger to care for a poor, sick friend of His. When she fled the filthy house, He sent her back to clean it, bathe the man and feed him, as He Himself had done many times.
For eighteen years after her first pilgrimage in 1898, Lua Getsinger was taught and sent on teaching missions by ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. Sending her to India, He urged her never to let outward circumstances worry her.
Worn out by years of travel-teaching with no home of their own, Mable Ives (Rizwanea) agreed to spend one day in prayer before deciding to stop, and was brought to submission, gratitude and love for her circumstances.
Visiting ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in 1918, Wellesley Tudor Pole gave Him a Persian camel-hair cloak, for winter had come and He had given away the only cloak He possessed.
Nabíl describes the self-forgetting companions of Bahá’u’lláh in Baghdad, where ten persons often lived on a pennyworth of dates and no one knew whose shoes and cloaks were whose.
Bahíyyih Khánum recalls the caravan of about seventy-five people that set out from Baghdad with Bahá’u’lláh in 1863, and how ‘Abdu’l-Bahá guarded His father day and night on the journey.
Bahíyyih Khánum remembers the day Bahá’u’lláh, disguised as a dervish, came home to Baghdad after two years in the mountains, and the simple food He had lived on there.
For weeks Mable Rice-Wray felt an unexplained urge to leave her Baltimore streetcar halfway down a long hill. When she finally did, a woman in a small shop there told her of the Bahá’í Faith.
Maria Ioas longed for a flower from ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. On His first day in Chicago she waited all afternoon at His hotel, and He invited her in and gave her a rose.
On her pilgrimage May Bolles heard ‘Abdu’l-Bahá tell how Bahá’u’lláh stayed three days with a poor hermit in his cave and shared his dry meat, dark bread and spring water as though it were a banquet.
Mary Lucas, a pilgrim to ‘Akká in 1905, saw that the Master usually ate one simple meal a day, and that the family supper was packed up and sent to anyone known to have gone without.
Mary Lucas learned in ‘Akká in 1905 that the Master gave away the gifts sent to Him, and that when a wealthy woman pressed money on Him He asked her to give it for a poor man’s son’s education.
Mary Revell of Philadelphia secretly hoped to kiss the hem of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s robe, as a Bahá’í in Iran had asked her to. The Master crossed the crowd and stood before her just long enough.
On her 1898–99 pilgrimage May Bolles found joy in the Master’s presence, then spoke unkindly of a fellow believer. His gentle, compassionate gaze at supper moved her to tears, and His smile restored her.
May Maxwell died only weeks after arriving in South America as a pioneer. The Guardian wrote that she laid down her life in a spirit that merited the crown of martyrdom.
In Montreal, when a Protestant asked 'Abdu'l-Bahá a question about St. Paul, the Master answered with thunderous emphasis, "Peter, not Paul!" and would speak only of Peter.
At a luncheon where His hostess hoped He would speak on Immortality, 'Abdu'l-Bahá told humorous stories instead and recalled how, in prison, He and His companions laughed together each evening. A hush of reverence settled over the group.
When Muriel Ives met 'Abdu'l-Bahá in 1912, at fifteen, He told her she would grow like a tree and have many branches. Twenty years later she declared her belief in Bahá'u'lláh, and she came to have four children and fifteen grandchildren.
The Haneys' baby, the future Hand of the Cause Paul Haney, had screamed on seeing 'Abdu'l-Bahá. When Agnes Parsons told the Master she thought the child had been conscious of more than the adults were, He replied, "You have much insight."
George Latimer recorded 'Abdu'l-Bahá's counsel to be moderate in speech and writing and to consider the taste of the public, as the Lord bade Moses and Aaron speak to Pharaoh in moderate, sweet language.
Horace Holley recalled a cheerful dinner with 'Abdu'l-Bahá at Thonon-les-Bains on Lake Geneva, where the Master answered questions, spoke of religion in the West and laughed heartily.
On pilgrimage to 'Akká, 'Abdu'l-Bahá noticed that Robert Turner, Phoebe Hearst's butler, was absent, asked for him, and rose to greet him with words of love. Shoghi Effendi later praised the tenacity of his faith.
While Juliet Thompson was painting 'Abdu'l-Bahá's portrait in New York on June 19, 1912, the Master suddenly appointed Lua Getsinger the Herald of the Covenant and declared that He was the Covenant appointed by Bahá'u'lláh.
At a luncheon in segregated Washington, D.C., 'Abdu'l-Bahá sent for Louis Gregory, who had not been invited, gave him the seat of honor at His right, and spoke on the oneness of mankind.
When Agnes Parsons asked whether the spirit could heal even broken bones, 'Abdu'l-Bahá laughed that all the spirits in the air could not create a salad, yet the spirit of man can do far greater things.
In 1872, on her way to 'Akká, Munírih Khánum stayed in Shíráz and asked Khadíjih-Bagum, the wife of the Báb, about her marriage. She recalled her dreams, her life with the Báb, and the night Mullá Ḥusayn came.
Munírih Khánum, wife of 'Abdu'l-Bahá, recalls losing five children in 'Akká, the words Bahá'u'lláh wrote to her when her little son Ḥusayn died, and the wisdom she came to see in it.
Munírih Khánum writes that the fifty years of her married life with 'Abdu'l-Bahá, and His love, mercy and bounty, could never be adequately described.
Ṭúbá Khánum, a granddaughter of Bahá'u'lláh, recalls His last illness at Bahjí in 1892, His final words to the believers and the family, and the nine days of mourning the Master arranged after His passing.
In 1852, after Bahá'u'lláh's imprisonment, His family was left without food. 'Abdu'l-Bahá later recalled being sent as a child to His aunt for a few coins, and being recognized as a Bábí and chased and stoned by children.
Rúḥíyyih Khánum recalls how her mother, May Maxwell, was broken by grief after the passing of 'Abdu'l-Bahá, and how a pilgrimage to Haifa in 1923 to meet Shoghi Effendi restored her.
Bahíyyih Khánum, daughter of Bahá'u'lláh, describes the underground prison in Tihrán where her father lay chained for four months in 1852, and her mother's struggle to get food to Him.
Led barefoot from Shimírán to the Síyáh-Chál in 1852, Bahá'u'lláh was abused by the crowds. When an old woman begged to throw a stone at Him, He told His guards not to deny her.
Nabíl, who compiled the Tablet of Visitation at 'Abdu'l-Bahá's request, was inconsolable after the ascension of Bahá'u'lláh and, a few months later, took his own life.
Na'ím was beaten, imprisoned and exiled from his village near Iṣfahán for his faith. In Ṭihrán he copied the Writings in poverty, later prospered as a teacher, and served the Cause devotedly all his life.
Whether life was relaxed or arduous, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá found humor: in a purring cat, a polar bear in the Paris Zoo, a man reluctant to be seen carrying his own basket, and a letter asking where He was.
No one could claim to be ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s teacher, yet Bahá’u’lláh approved His answers to religious questions with “very good”; His wisdom and love brought a change of heart to people such as Horace Holley.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá held cleanliness to be of vital importance: Florence Khánum found Him spotless even at noon in summer, and once, when He had guests, He had a lamp chimney replaced because it was not polished enough.
As a child, 'Abdu'l-Bahá was taken to see His Father's flocks. Told that He must leave the shepherds a present, and having nothing else to give, He gave them the sheep. Bahá'u'lláh laughed when He heard of it.
Shaykh Maḥmúd of 'Akká hated the Bahá'ís. Angered to hear 'Abdu'l-Bahá praised, he went to the mosque and laid hands on Him. The Master's calm reply took away his anger; days later he begged forgiveness and became a devoted Bahá'í.
Lady Blomfield recalls meals with ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in her London home: He served guests with His own hands, shared a poor workman’s gift of dry bread, and seated the humblest guests at His right hand.
John Bosch, a Swiss-born believer who felt he could not be a speaker, told ‘Abdu’l-Bahá that all he did was give away pamphlets and books; the Master assured him that with him it was the heart that speaks.
Speaking at Green Acre in August 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá contrasted knowledge confined to the senses, which even animals possess, with the true virtue of man: the power to investigate the ideals of the Kingdom.
On 5 May 1912 in Chicago, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá called each of some 35 children to Him with great tenderness, told them they were His spiritual children, and invited them all to Lincoln Park for a photograph.
When Black friends decided to stay away from a Unity Feast arranged at a hotel known for racial exclusion, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá insisted that all attend, and the banquet passed in happiness without one unpleasant incident.
On 23 May 1912 Alice Breed baked ‘Abdu’l-Bahá a cake with sixty-eight candles; but He, who had forbidden the celebration of His birthday, spoke only of the Báb’s Declaration and soon left the festivities.
While ‘Abdu’l-Bahá was staying at the Maxwell home in Montreal in 1912, little Mary Maxwell slipped into His room as He rested, pushed up His eyelids, and He took her in His arms.
Fred Mortensen, a former street tough, rode under and on top of railway trains to reach Green Acre and meet ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, who, on hearing how he had come, kissed his cheeks and his dirty hat.
On Christmas night 1912 ‘Abdu’l-Bahá spoke to a thousand homeless men at a Salvation Army shelter in London and left money to buy them a similar dinner on New Year’s night.
On pilgrimage in 1911 Louis Gregory heard ‘Abdu’l-Bahá urge the races to intermarry; the next year the Master encouraged his marriage to Louisa Mathew, the first marriage between a Black and a white Bahá’í.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá recalled walking twelve miles in the Baghdád heat to a poor thorn-picker’s hut, where the wife burnt the little cake she made for Him, and called it the best reception He ever attended.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá told a story of a Muslim, a Christian and a Jew caught in a storm at sea to show that prayer can be selfish.
When young Shoghi Effendi and his cousin came before ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, the Master held up Shoghi Effendi’s happy, pleasant expression as the example to follow.
Agnes Parsons told ‘Abdu’l-Bahá she had tried not to dwell on her late mother, and He said she had done right, for the spirit of the departed rejoices in the joy of the loved one.
When May Maxwell fell ill on pilgrimage, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá cancelled the pilgrims’ meeting on Mount Carmel, saying none of them could be happy unless all the beloved were happy.
When Stanwood Cobb arrived in Haifa ill with dysentery, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá sent His own physician, visited him Himself, and said He wished He could take the illness upon Himself.
On Naw-Rúz 1909, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá laid the casket holding the remains of the Báb and His companion in the marble sarcophagus on Mount Carmel with His own hands, and wept so that all present wept with Him.
Howard Colby Ives recalls how ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, after listening to the executive committee of the New York Spiritual Assembly deliberate for half an hour, paused at the door and asked why they did not execute.
Driving through the English countryside near Bristol in September 1911, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá admired the old trees and green downs, and likened the country to the soul and the city to the body.
On the voyage to America in March 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told Mírzá Maḥmúd that He had slept well at last, and spoke of why the air at sea was better for health than the humid coast.
At His first dinner in Lady Blomfield's London home, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá gently wished the many courses could be shared with the hungry, and afterwards the dinners were greatly simplified.
Driving back to His hotel through the park roads of New York in April 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá foresaw America's rapid progress but voiced concern about high buildings and crowded cities.
Exiled in chains from Egypt to the Sudan, Ḥájí Mírzá Ḥaydar-‘Alí and his companions were tied in pairs to the sides of camels, and despite the pain they could not help laughing at the sight.
When a salesman came through the train selling school pennants, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá joked that he should bring the banner of universal peace, and other passengers gathered to talk with Him.
After His visit to the Bowery Mission in New York, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá emptied the leftover quarters into a hotel chambermaid's apron, and she resolved to give every cent of it away.
When a London reporter remarked on His good English pronunciation, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá paced the room reciting complicated English words such as "hippopotamus", then laughingly said they were very difficult.
Muriel Ives Barrow Newhall recalled that when ‘Abdu’l-Bahá asked Bahá’u’lláh why He had never clearly designated the universal language, Bahá’u’lláh replied, "Because no one ever asked Me."
Asked why His guests always came away with shining faces, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá smiled and said that in everyone He looked upon He saw only His Father’s Face.
Before a journey, the Master’s wife left a spare cloak for Him with one of their daughters. When He learned of it, He gave it away, unwilling to keep two cloaks while others had none.
In a 1974 talk, Hand of the Cause John Robarts told the parable of a teacher who held a young man’s head under water to show him that prayer is as important as breathing.
Asked what a Bahá’í is, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá answered that it means to love all the world, to love and serve humanity, and to work for universal peace and brotherhood.
Two ladies who met ‘Abdu’l-Bahá on a walk told Him they thought He must be extremely wealthy. He answered that His riches were of the Kingdom and not of this world.
At the Masonic Temple in Chicago in 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told Mrs. Dealy, who was going blind, that she must choose between spiritual and physical sight. She chose spiritual sight, as Leroy Ioas, seated beside her, witnessed.
Georgiana Dean had left California at ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s request to care for the blind Mrs. Dealy. Homesick, she took her trouble to Him; He asked her to stay as long as needed, and within days she was free to return.
In New York in 1912 a grieving young woman told ‘Abdu’l-Bahá that the more she trusted in God, the worse things became. He told her that to pray is to trust in God, and urged her to be a strong ship.
When Howard Colby Ives, then a Unitarian minister, impatiently disputed ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s interpretation of Christ’s words, the Master looked at him with love and said softly that Ives should try his way and He would try His.
On pilgrimage to ‘Akká in 1909, Charles Haney told ‘Abdu’l-Bahá he feared “Spiritual indigestion” from all he was receiving. The Master assured him that the One who gives the food also gives the power to digest it.
Asked how one should live, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá answered, “Be kind to everyone.” He told Juliet Thompson never to let anyone speak unkindly of another in her presence.
Travelling from ‘Akká to Haifa, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá took a seat in the stage coach rather than a private carriage, and gave five francs to a fisherwoman whose family was hungry.
On His third visit to Paris in 1913, though His strength had suffered greatly, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá kept receiving visitors at His hotel, and said that Bahá’u’lláh had trained Him to shoulder the burdens of others.
Asked in Paris how a new civilization would come about, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá answered, “Through solidarity,” and recalled young locusts on Mt. Carmel that flung themselves into a stream so that the others might cross.
As a small child, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá was sent by Bahá’u’lláh to inspect His flocks. Having nothing else to give the shepherds, He gave them the sheep, and Bahá’u’lláh remarked that someday He would give Himself away.
Ali Kuli Khan, interpreter for Mírzá Abu'l-Fadl in America, three times asked him what happens to the soul after death. Years later a ship slipping over the horizon gave him the answer.
Writing in Chicago in 1912, Mírzá Maḥmúd recorded that Dr. Zia Bagdadi was told to leave his home for inviting Louis Gregory, and that black and white Bahá’ís still associated as brothers and sisters.
Resting in Central Park after a visit to the Museum of Natural History, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told a puzzled watchman that one does not lose the material world by attaining the spiritual, just as going upstairs does not mean leaving the house.
In New York in 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá held up the book of the Hidden Words and said that whoever does not live up to its words is not of Him.
On a twelve-hour train journey from Pittsburgh to Washington in May 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá's companions begged Him to take a special compartment or a berth, but He refused.
In London 'Abdu'l-Bahá joined the laughter in the kitchen, where a Persian servant and an English housekeeper were joking about the lot of women in East and West.
Out driving in London, Mrs Thornburgh-Cropper asked 'Abdu'l-Bahá whether He longed to be back with His family in Haifa. He told her and Lady Blomfield that they were as beloved to Him as His own.
In London a woman without an appointment was turned away from 'Abdu'l-Bahá's door. As she went down the stairs, He sent a messenger after her.
In London 'Abdu'l-Bahá described how people have always complained that the Prophets took away their pleasures, and how the Prophets have always answered them.
A man who had resolved to end his life saw 'Abdu'l-Bahá's picture in a shop window and walked thirty miles to find Him in London. The Master welcomed him and gave him new hope.
In September 1912 'Abdu'l-Bahá missed a connecting train on the way to Kenosha, telling His friends there was wisdom in it. The train they missed was later damaged in a collision.
'Abdu'l-Bahá told Harlan Ober he was to go to India, and a few days later told him to go to America instead. When Ober protested, the Master answered with a joke.
During His retreat in the mountains of Kurdistan, Bahá'u'lláh comforted a weeping schoolboy and wrote him a copy to learn from. The schoolmaster recognized the writing as royal penmanship, and people set out to find Him.
Walking with one of His daughters, the Master met a local woman, the daughter of a desert chief. He answered her greeting kindly, pressed a coin into her hand, and thanked her when she said she would pray for Him.
In the mountains of Kurdistan, Bahá'u'lláh stopped to help a crying boy who had been punished for poor writing. His copy was so beautiful that the schoolmaster knew its writer was no ordinary dervish.
On a carriage ride near Thonon-les-Bains, 'Abdu'l-Bahá stopped at an old inn, where children selling violets clustered around Him. He gave them francs from His pocket.
When a pilgrim noticed that no grace was said before meals, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá explained that His heart was always giving thanks. Thornton Chase saw Him begin a meal with ‘In the Name of God’, and He told Lua Getsinger to have spiritual food each morning before breakfast.
While Bahá'u'lláh lived as a dervish in the mountains of Kurdistan, He gave a gathering of Sufis so wonderful an interpretation of a mystical poem that they begged Him to return. He told them to seek tidings of Him in Baghdad.
At a pilgrim's banquet at Bahjí in July 1919, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá served the guests Himself, the Bedouins camping nearby received a generous share, and He gave each of their children a coin. Next morning their fathers came to thank Him.
One June day in New York, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá slept long enough to keep His audience waiting. He told them He had awoken with one word on His lips, ‘Imtiyáz’ (Distinction), and would speak on that subject.
A parrot in the Pilgrim House had been taught to say ‘Allah-u-Abhá’ and ‘Say O Bahá.’ When ‘Abdu’l-Bahá meant to give it to the governor of ‘Akká, the bird said ‘Say, say’ and then ‘O Bahá!’, and He decided to keep it.
Speaking with physicians in San Francisco in October 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá said that dogmas contrary to science and reason are a chief cause of irreligion, and He quoted Bahá’u’lláh's words that such matters are an obstacle to progress.
A Western pilgrim describes ‘Abdu’l-Bahá on Mount Carmel in 1909 moving the remains of the Báb into the marble sarcophagus with His own hands, and weeping aloud as the believers wept with Him.
Anna Kunz, one of the last pilgrims to visit ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, in 1921, later recalled above all His great simplicity, His humility and His boundless love.
A member of the Commission of Inquiry sent from Constantinople against ‘Abdu’l-Bahá later fled to Egypt, was robbed and asked for help. The Master at once directed the believers to give him a sum on His behalf.
Kept in Paris at ‘Abdu’l-Bahá's wish, May Maxwell met Thomas Breakwell and gave him the Message. On the evening of the day he wrote his supplication to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, a cablegram arrived for her: ‘You may leave Paris.’
When false accusations brought a Commission of enquiry and threats of exile or execution, 'Abdu'l-Bahá stayed serene, kept the work on the Báb's Shrine going, wrote tirelessly and planted trees and vines in His garden.
After 'Abdu'l-Bahá blessed a youth by patting his shoulder, a seeker at the same table silently wished for the same sign; the Master left the room, then returned and placed His hands on the seeker's shoulders.
Asked by a reporter what He thought of America, 'Abdu'l-Bahá said He liked it: Americans are optimistic, always answering "All right!", and this cheerful attitude is good.
In Scotland, 'Abdu'l-Bahá came to an evening meeting looking very tired after speaking that afternoon; after sitting a few moments in silence, He rose with joyous animation and spoke with great power.
In New York, 'Abdu'l-Bahá invited a believer to come at dawn to learn to pray. After hours kneeling in silence across from the Master, he found himself truly praying, and 'Abdu'l-Bahá told him how to pray.
When a discouraged believer despaired of ever acquiring the virtues Bahá'ís are required to possess, 'Abdu'l-Bahá answered with the greatest compassion and encouragement: "little by little; day by day."
The American friends asked 'Abdu'l-Bahá to have His Persian companions change their attire to suit the time and place, keeping only their Persian hats and coats; He replied that such things were trifles.
On May 23, 1912, over a hundred guests gathered at the Breed home in Cambridge, where a cake with sixty-eight candles awaited 'Abdu'l-Bahá; He spoke only of the Báb's Declaration and soon left.
Pauline Hannen once feared Black people, but studying Bahá'u'lláh's writings changed her; she taught the Faith to her washerwoman, and she and Joseph began inviting Black people to meetings in their home.
Walking behind ‘Abdu’l-Bahá on the sands near ‘Akká, Lua Getsinger placed her feet in His footprints. A scorpion’s sting, and the Master’s words afterwards, taught her what it means to walk in His footsteps.
Before the war ‘Abdu’l-Bahá taught the people of three villages how to grow corn, and with the stored harvest He fed the poor of Haifa and ‘Akká through the famine years. When the British arrived, He had corn for their army too.
Even in prison ‘Abdu’l-Bahá wrote that His prison was His garden and paradise. Through illness, exile, imprisonment and the death of His sons He remained cheerful, teaching that happiness in hardship is the proof of nobility.
On 1 October 1911 in London, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá performed the marriage of Mírzá Yuhanna Dáwúd and Núr Mahal Khánum, telling them He had never before united anyone in marriage except His own daughters.
Ella Cooper recalled glimpsing Bahíyyih Khánum in the kitchen, dividing a lamb into broth, meals and portions for the poor, and realizing the hours of work that went into caring for the visitors.
Rene made a basket of flowers for ‘Abdu’l-Bahá. When she saw another girl leaving His room with it, she was upset at first, then came to understand the true meaning of giving.
When Ridvaniyyih Khánum’s little daughter died, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá comforted her with the image of a Divine Gardener moving a young tree to a better place. Lady Blomfield adds that after her own mother died, a friend dreamed of seeing her young and joyful in a garden.
An early pilgrim describes ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s Friday mornings in ‘Akká, when He gave a coin and a kind word to each of a hundred or more poor people, and His early-morning visits to the sick.
The pilgrim Roy Wilhelm observed that people of all classes and religions in ‘Akká came to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá for explanation of their scriptures and settlement of their disputes, and that a just Governor sent his son to Him for instruction.
Rúhíyyih Khánum dreamed of a great flood and begged ‘Abdu’l-Bahá to help her save the drowning. Without stopping His work, He smiled and said He was building the machine to stop the flood.
Chained in the underground Síyáh-Chál of Tihrán among nearly 150 prisoners, Bahá’u’lláh taught His companions verses to chant each night, and those called to their deaths went forth with hope and joy.
Sarah Farmer opened Green Acre in 1894 for the study of all religions. After she visited ‘Abdu’l-Bahá its courses turned towards the Bahá’í teachings, and when the Master came in 1912 He called it hallowed ground.
Writing home from Constantinople while her husband Ali-Kuli Khan was away, Florence Khan described with humour her quiet life, her devotion to him, and the ‘guardians’ he had set to watch over her.
Leroy Ioas recalled that Shoghi Effendi lived only for the Cause of God, rejoicing at news of the believers' victories and grieving at their sufferings, his heart like a mirror reflecting all parts of the world.
Rúhíyyih Khánum describes Shoghi Effendi as a small, sensitive and mischievous child who grew into a man of iron constitution and will, and recalls his hazel eyes and wonderfully expressive face.
Leroy Ioas recalled Shoghi Effendi telling how, unwilling to become Guardian after ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s passing, he went to the mountains of Switzerland and fought with himself until he conquered himself, and that every Bahá’í must do the same.
Soon after reaching London in 1911, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá warmly greeted the Rev. R. J. Campbell; on 10 September He gave His first public address in the West from the City Temple pulpit and wrote a tribute in its Bible.
Before leaving Denver in September 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá was asked about eating meat and explained how God has provided for each creature, saying that man was created blessed and not rapacious and bloodthirsty.
Lady Blomfield describes how Ásíyih Khánum, Bahíyyih Khánum, Munírih Khánum and the Master’s daughters bore the long years of privation in ‘Akká without complaint, meeting every hardship with radiant acquiescence.
During His third visit to Paris in 1913, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá sometimes ate only milk and bread in the evening, calling it a healthy meal and recalling that Bahá’u’lláh had lived mostly on milk in Sulaymáníyyih.
Walking home with Shoghi Effendi in Haifa, Leroy Ioas heard the Guardian describe the burdens weighing on him and offered to take on his papers. With tears in his eyes, the Guardian answered that only God could give him relief.
Before travelling to the West of America, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá wished first to visit Montreal, where May Maxwell, founder of the first Bahá’í community in France, had established the first permanent Bahá’í community in Canada.
When the Governor of ‘Akká insulted the newly arrived prisoners and one of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s attendants answered him in rage, the Master rebuked the attendant on the spot. The Governor’s attitude changed, and he began to treat the prisoners more humanely.
When war broke out and Haifa feared bombardment, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá accepted the invitation of the Druze chief of Abu-Sinan and moved the Bahá’ís and their children to his village, where they lived simply and recovered their health and calm.
At his last meeting with ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in the United States, Stanwood Cobb was embraced and told three times, “Be on fire with the love of the Kingdom!” He later reflected that these nine words summed up the Master’s teaching.
In Paris in 1913, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá asked Stanwood Cobb, then teaching at a travel school for boys, whether he taught spiritual things. Cobb answered that there was no time, and the Master’s silence showed him that spiritual things should come first.
Visiting ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in ‘Akká in 1908 while troubled by depression, Stanwood Cobb was visited in his room by the Master, Who sat beside him and held his hand. From that moment, Cobb wrote, his depressive moods left him for good.
Stanwood Cobb recalled that joy was the keynote of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s teaching: He would greet visitors with “Are you happy?”, smile at the tears of the unhappy, and sometimes wipe those tears away with His own hands.
Stanwood Cobb took his elderly father to meet ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in Boston and was shocked when his father spent the interview expounding his own spiritual views. The Master smiled and listened, and the father came away feeling he had had a wonderful interview.
Stanwood Cobb recalled how ‘Abdu’l-Bahá gave His addresses: pacing as He spoke, then smiling and nodding while the translator rendered His words, so that each talk became “a work of art, as well as a spiritual service.”
Stanwood Cobb recalls ‘Abdu’l-Bahá teaching that Bahá’ís must endure people even when they are unendurable, and beaming as He said it, as if such patience would be a joy.
Bahíyyih Khánum recalls that strife grieved Bahá’u’lláh because of the unhappiness it brought others, and that He would take the blame upon Himself to restore peace.
Sending Lua Getsinger to India in 1913, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told her that no storm could change His purpose, and urged her to strive day and night for the same firmness.
When an unfriendly Governor of ‘Akká fell from office, the Master sent him a ring and good wishes; when another official demanded His cloak, He gave him His only one and promised a better.
In New York on 19 June 1912, as Juliet Thompson painted His portrait, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá appointed Lua Getsinger the Herald of the Covenant and declared Himself the Covenant appointed by Bahá’u’lláh.
Rúḥíyyih Khánum recalls her marriage to Shoghi Effendi on 25 March 1937: a quiet visit to the Shrine of Bahá’u’lláh, a ring, and no celebration, flowers or wedding dress.
Reserved by nature, Sutherland Maxwell first planned to lodge ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in a Montreal hotel, but the day before He came bought new furniture for Him and begged Him at the station to stay in their home.
In August 1910 ‘Abdu’l-Bahá quietly left Haifa for Egypt, His first departure from the Holy Land in forty-two years; Sydney Sprague and His attendant describe how no one knew beforehand.
When an American guest apologized for eating so much at His table, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told her that virtue lies in true faith in God, not in appetite, and recalled that Ṭáhirih had a good appetite.
In an English village the Master gave so many sixpences to children that His hostesses tried to turn away a late visitor with his babies, until ‘Abdu’l-Bahá came out and embraced them all.
After Bahá’u’lláh returned to Baghdad from the mountains, curiosity-seekers crowded to see Him; His son ‘Abdu’l-Bahá put placards on the doors and admitted only genuine truth-seekers.
Bahíyyih Khánum recalls how a daughter born after the Báb's prayer for a childless follower came to the Holy Family, and how, at Bahá'u'lláh's request, 'Abdu'l-Bahá took her as His wife.
On a drive meant to show Him New York, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá laid His head on John Bosch's shoulder and slept for nearly half an hour, waking just as the car stopped at the Kinneys' home.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá remained calm to the end of His earthly life: knowing His time had come, He declined the food offered Him and gave His two daughters a beautiful look.
Bahíyyih Khánum recalls her brother's grief in Baghdad while Bahá’u’lláh was away, His devotion to copying and memorizing the tablets of the Báb, and His one diversion, horseback riding.
In 1912, before ‘Abdu’l-Bahá reached Kenosha, opponents of the Covenant attacked Him in the local newspaper; He ignored the attacks and told the worried believers that nothing would come of them.
The day after her son Davis died, Corinne True came to the dedication of the Temple site in Wilmette, where ‘Abdu’l-Bahá singled her out for a short drive and then broke ground for the House of Worship.
Tired after a day of visitors in Montreal, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá went out alone, rode a tram out of the city, and, not knowing the name of His hotel, told the taxi driver to go straight ahead, which brought Him back to it.
At the Lake Mohonk peace conference, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá gave its president, Albert Smiley, a Persian rug fetched overnight from New York; it replaced one the Smileys had lost in a fire.
In London a woman without an appointment was turned away from ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s door, but before she reached the bottom of the steps He sent a messenger to bring her back.
An imposing motor-car was sent to bring ‘Abdu’l-Bahá to the ceremony at which He was knighted, but seeing the sorrow of His old coachman Isfandiyar, He went in His own carriage instead.
After ‘Abdu’l-Bahá spoke at Rabbi Meyer's synagogue in San Francisco, the congregation lent its building to a neighbouring church for nine months, and ‘Abdu’l-Bahá wrote that the deed would become eternal.
Hand of the Cause John Robarts explains a Hidden Word of Bahá’u’lláh through the image of a young fruit tree that must be brought out into the sunshine and rain of God's love.
Though Bahá’u’lláh conferred exalted titles on Him, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá never applied them to Himself; after the Ascension He took the name ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, Servant of Bahá, and urged the believers to call Him only by it.
In Chicago in April 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá spoke to the Bahá’í Temple Unity Convention on the purpose of houses of worship, and Corinne True realized the Temple was meant to unite all humankind.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá seldom spoke in the first person. Once, while Lua Getsinger and Georgie Ralston talked on during a drive with Him, He opened His eyes and laughed at their words.
Boys who had followed the Master's party noisily on the way to the Bowery Mission came to see Him; He welcomed each one, called a dark-skinned boy a black rose, and shared chocolates.
Driving with Javidukht Khadem, Hand of the Cause Dorothy Baker prayed in tears for Elsie Austin, then explained that each morning she said many prayers so as to be spiritual enough for her Obligatory Prayer.
At table with His guests, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá received a poor workman's dinner of dry bread and a shrivelled apple, left His own luncheon untasted, and shared the gift with everyone present.
When the prison gates opened, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá sold a gift to repair His companions' rooms in the caravanserai, leaving His own damp, flea-infested room to the last; the money ran out before it could be repaired.
Bahíyyih Khánum recalls the order that sent Bahá'u'lláh from Baghdad to Constantinople, the grief of His followers, and how the family went to live in tents in a friend's garden until the departure.
When the order came banishing the exiles from Adrianople to 'Akká, one despairing believer tried to take his own life. Bahá'u'lláh would not leave until the Governor promised to care for him and send him on.
When cables brought news of May Maxwell's death in Argentina, Shoghi Effendi broke it to her daughter, Rúḥíyyih Khánum, with great tenderness, and comforted her until she was laughing through her tears.
Leroy Ioas recalls the evening Shoghi Effendi shared news that a discouraged pioneer on a Pacific island, whom he had urged again and again to stay, now had two spiritual assemblies.
Before visiting the Master's home, Amelia Collins's husband anxiously asked her how he should behave. She told him that in the family of 'Abdu'l-Bahá simplicity reigns and nothing but love is accepted.
In Paris, the wife of a Japanese ambassador longed to meet 'Abdu'l-Bahá but was ill and leaving early the next morning. Though it was late and He was tired, He went to call on her Himself.
Mary Hanford Ford describes the practical skill of the women of 'Abdu'l-Bahá's household in 'Akká, and how the Greatest Holy Leaf sewed a simple print dress for a finely dressed Western visitor who had arrived without a trunk.
Speaking to a packed opera house in America, Abu'l-Faḍl felt proud of his success and his mind went completely blank. He turned to Bahá'u'lláh in shame and prayer, and his words returned.
Bahíyyih Khánum recalls the hard four-month journey from Baghdad, when Bahá'u'lláh cooked a warm pudding for the exiles with His own hands, and their cramped arrival in Constantinople as prisoners.
After Juliet Thompson lost her temper with her mother and stormed out, 'Abdu'l-Bahá greeted her by asking whether her mother was happy, and sent her straight home to her.
As the exiles prepared to leave Baghdad, 'Abdu'l-Bahá shielded His Father from intruders. In the Riḍván garden, Bahá'u'lláh confided to Him that He was the One promised by the Báb.
'Abdu'l-Bahá helped carry the coffin of a beloved friend who had taken his own life. He taught that God never gives us a burden greater than we can carry, and that in hard times we should remember that this too will pass.
'Abdu'l-Bahá kept little clothing and ate little food: tea, goat's milk cheese and wheat bread to begin the day, while at the evening meal a cup of milk and a piece of bread might suffice.
'Abdu'l-Bahá held cleanliness to be of vital importance. Florence Khánum found Him spotless and fresh-looking at high noon in summer, as though He had not been visiting the sick since early morning.
'Abdu'l-Bahá had His caterer send the Covenant-breakers at the Mansion whatever food and supplies they asked for, and passed on to them gifts and funds, yet they took His generosity for weakness.
Túbá Khánum recalls her little sister Rúḥ-Angíz, who longed to follow Bahá'u'lláh to Heaven and passed away the year after Him, while the Master's time was taken up by the needs of the poor.
'Abdu'l-Bahá placed His affairs in God's hands. When the military commanders of Jerusalem and Damascus invited Him to Jerusalem, He answered, 'Inshá'lláh' (If God is willing).
'Abdu'l-Bahá, who felt children were nearer to the Kingdom of God than adults, listened attentively as a granddaughter of about two chanted a Tablet, gently chanting any word she missed.
'Abdu'l-Bahá often spoke with His arm around a child, and urged parents to give their children the best education they could afford and to encourage spirituality in them.
John David Bosch felt he could not be a speaker and instead circulated pamphlets and books. 'Abdu'l-Bahá assured him that he was doing better than talking, for with him it was the heart that spoke.
At a Washington luncheon held in His honour in 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá asked for Louis Gregory, who had not been on the guest list, and seated him at His right hand before the meal began.
'Abdu'l-Bahá desired no title but His own name, 'Abdu'l-Bahá. He forbade pilgrims to fall at His feet, cooked for His fellow prisoners in 'Akká, and sometimes served His guests Himself.
'Abdu'l-Bahá disliked photographs of Himself and allowed them only to please His friends, explaining that the personality is merely the lamp, while the light within it alone has real significance.
The Master was joyful in circumstances that would have filled most people with sorrow, and He likened sorrow to furrows: the deeper they go, the more fruit they yield.
Speaking to Mary Hanford Ford of the confinement of His family’s life in ‘Akká, the Master explained that a heart full of the love of God knows no prison.
In a Tablet to a woman who longed for the Heavenly Kingdom, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá counselled her to recite the Greatest Name every morning and turn to the Kingdom of Abhá.
Speaking through an interpreter to an early pilgrim, the Master rejoiced that the believers were becoming more united, and urged them to love one another and sacrifice themselves for each other.
The Master told of a merchant who, seeing the crowds that came out to greet Him, asked to become a Bahá’í for the sake of his business, and was frankly told to remain as he was.
The Master wanted people to be happy so that they could know the spiritual life and make others happy, and He told one of His daughters travelling with her aunt to be a cheerful companion.
The Master taught that divorce should not be made easier, but marriage more difficult. Lady Blomfield records two cases from the years of Bahá’u’lláh and ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in the Holy Land.
On 27 November 1921 the Master sent the friends to the Shrine of the Báb for the Day of the Covenant and received Haifa’s officials; that night, the last of His life, He asked after everyone’s health.
During the First World War, when the breadwinners of ‘Akká and Haifa had been taken for the army, the Master kept the poor from starvation, opened a dispensary at Abú-Sinán and arranged schools for the children.
The morning after He arrived in Montréal, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá visited a sickly girl across the street from the Maxwells and told her parents she must be let out into the sunlight; she soon recovered completely.
The night before the battle, Hurr, the commander who had blocked every road to Husayn, was overcome with remorse. At dawn he rode to the Imam to beg forgiveness, and was killed by the soldiers he had once commanded.
On April 30, 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told an NAACP conference in Chicago that color is of no importance. That evening, across the road, a tied Bahá’í election ended with Louis Gregory joining the governing board of Bahá’í Temple Unity.
In Budapest, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá was about to leave for Vienna when the president of the Turanian Society asked Him to stay for a meeting already advertised. He agreed, and that evening addressed a large and appreciative gathering.
Learning that Juliet Thompson's mother was grieving, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá sent for her in the midst of a thunderstorm. Though exhausted, He welcomed and comforted her, and the next day she said all her bitterness had gone.
Bahíyyih Khánum recalls that on the day of His wedding, after carefully preparing to receive the guests, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá quietly withdrew to keep His habit of visiting the poor and sick.
At the Bowery Mission in New York, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá spoke on the station of poverty, then stood by the door and gave coins to each of some four hundred men, with money left over for others.
When ‘Abdu’l-Bahá stayed at Mrs True's home in Chicago in September 1912, visitors filled its rooms, hallways and stairs; when He grew tired, He would take a walk outside and then return.
Rúhíyyih Khánum recalls how the Guardian, weighed down by burdens, tore from The Times only the articles he wanted, threw the rest away, and handed her long streamers of clippings to read.
In an essay written as a student in Beirut in 1914–15, the young Shoghi Effendi argues that well-conducted sports and athletics refresh the body, enlighten the mind and develop moral character.
When war came and Haifa feared bombardment, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá accepted a Druze chief’s invitation and moved the Bahá’ís to the village of Abu-Sinan, where they lived simply, regained their health and were kept from hunger.
At the Bowery Mission in New York, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá addressed some four hundred of the city’s poorest men, shook every hand and placed coins in each palm; back at His hotel a moved chambermaid resolved to give as He had given.
Grace Robarts begged to serve in ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s household in New York. For days He ignored her as she worked from five in the morning until long after midnight; when she grasped the spirit of true service, He welcomed her.
Walking on the beach with ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, Lua Getsinger stepped in His footprints and three times said she wished to follow in them. A tarantula then bit her, and when fever and delirium set in, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá healed her.
On His last afternoon in London, a reporter was surprised by ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s English pronunciation; laughing, He strode about the drawing room reciting elaborate English words, then turned in a moment to earnest matters.
John Robarts tells of George, an African Bahá’í whose wife opposed the Faith. With only one room in their house, she waited under the banana tree during his meetings, and became a Bahá’í during the rainy season.
Annamarie Honnold describes ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s love for every human being, and records His counsel to the pilgrim Anna Kunz and her husband in 1921 to be affectionate to all, like a shepherd with his sheep.
A coal miner who had walked many miles to hear ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in California grew impatient with the interpreter, insisting that nothing ‘Abdu’l-Bahá said needed translating.
A Christian merchant in ‘Akká seized charcoal the Bahá’ís had bought. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá waited three hours in his office to ask for it; His patient answers won the merchant’s respect, and he became a firm supporter.
In Salt Lake City in September 1912, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá toured the agricultural exhibition at the State Fair, praised American farming, and had seeds of fruits and flowers bought to be planted at the Shrine of Bahá’u’lláh.
A man in Haifa who disliked ‘Abdu’l-Bahá proudly announced, “I am Moses.” ‘Abdu’l-Bahá invited him to serve the people as Moses did; after three long days of His work, the man gave up the name.
Leroy Ioas recalls how Shoghi Effendi gave the aged Corinne True a purse once used by ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, with a gold coin inside bearing the year of her first visit to the Master.
Jináb-i-Fádil, disowned by his father for becoming a Bahá’í, thought of asking ‘Abdu’l-Bahá to forgive him; the next day the Master told him that many souls would be forgiven because of his faith.
When ‘Abdu’l-Bahá was once held in chains, His jailers were amazed to hear Him sing and laugh; He told them they were doing Him a kindness.
Urged on by ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s enemies, the Deputy-Governor of Haifa visited Him wearing Bahá’u’lláh’s cloak and spectacles; later, dismissed from his post, he begged the Master’s forgiveness and was shown utmost kindness.
In a parable from The Seven Valleys, a lover fleeing a watchman scales a garden wall and finds his beloved there, and sees that what seemed tyranny was a hidden mercy.
A Canadian pilgrim asked whether translators could replace the nightingale and the rose for readers in the Arctic; Shoghi Effendi said the sacred texts must be translated exactly, then gave her attar of rose for the friends in Canada and for the Inuit.
While Bahá’u’lláh lived as a dervish in the mountains, His family in Baghdád sold their only rug to buy a donkey for a Bábí who set out to find Him; months later He came home.
Speaking to the Edinburgh Esperanto Society in January 1913, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá recalled Bahá’u’lláh’s call for an auxiliary language and urged His listeners to spread Esperanto.
Bahíyyih Khánum remembers 1852 in Ṭihrán: at six she held her little brother Mihdí in the dark while her mother, often with ‘Abbás, went out to learn whether Bahá’u’lláh was still alive.
From Paris, the ailing Thomas Breakwell wrote to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá through Dr Yúnis Khán, refused to leave his post, asked the Master to pray for his parents, and soon reported that his father had become a Bahá’í.
In a prayer for a memorial gathering, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá recalls Fáṭimih Begum, widow of the King of Martyrs: her sufferings after his martyrdom, her patience, and her years of humble service in the Holy Land.
A portrait of L. L. Zamenhof, reprinted in Star of the West: an oculist who struggled to support his family, sought neither profit nor power from Esperanto, and worked tirelessly to spare humanity the suffering of dissension and war.
Hurrying to breakfast without her morning prayers, Lua Getsinger met ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in the hallway, and He told her never to eat material food in the morning until she had had spiritual food.
Dick Grover recalls Zylpha Gray of Springfield, Massachusetts, who told an Underground Railroad story and how a childhood question about salvation was answered years later when she heard God's Prophets described as branches of one tree.
At his first meeting with ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, Howard Colby Ives could not speak; after a long silence the Master placed His hand upon his breast, saying that it was the heart that speaks.
Myron Phelps describes how ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in ‘Akká lived simply in order to give to the poor, gave away a second cloak His wife had left for Him, and slept on the floor rather than in a bed.
Bahíyyih Khánum recalls the day soldiers surrounded the family's house in Adrianople with orders to separate Bahá’u’lláh from His family, and the week ‘Abdu’l-Bahá spent pleading until the family was allowed to go with Him.
When Bahá’u’lláh taught the Cause of the Báb in Núr, the local mujtahid sent two of his leading disciples to question Him; on hearing Him, both vowed to remain and serve Him.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá visited a widow who had come from California to Massachusetts to see Him after her son was killed, and told her that the son's only grief was his mother's tears.
Thomas Breakwell died in June 1902, hardly a year after becoming a Bahá’í. Yúnis Khán recalls how ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told him of the death, though no news of it had passed through his hands, and wrote a prayer of visitation for Breakwell.
On pilgrimage to ‘Akká, Thomas Breakwell told ‘Abdu’l-Bahá that the cotton mills where he held his post were run on child labour; the Master told him to cable his resignation, and he gladly obeyed.
Ill with tuberculosis, Thomas Breakwell sent ever more joyful letters to 'Abdu'l-Bahá, never asked to be healed, and told the other patients he was not going to die but merely departing for the Kingdom of God.
When the lease on Thomas Breakwell's grave lapsed, his remains were moved to the cemetery's charnel house; later the French Bahá'ís placed a simple stone on the vacant site, which has become a focal point of pilgrimage.
When Thornton Chase, a member of Chicago's all-male House of Spirituality, asked 'Abdu'l-Bahá about the Temple, He told the three visiting men to consult Corinne True, to whom He had given complete instructions.
After speaking with visitors at Vanners in Byfleet, 'Abdu'l-Bahá walked out alone into the village, where ragged children clustered about Him, mothers followed with their little ones, and even the roughest men fell silent.
On the slow journey through the fields and mountains of Turkey, the melodious chanting of Jinab-i-Munib brought joy to those who travelled with Bahá'u'lláh and testified to his love for Him.
Near Lake Dublin, New Hampshire, in August 1912, 'Abdu'l-Bahá spoke to a gathering of Black people about unity between Black and white, and told them of the coming marriage of Louisa Mathew and Louis Gregory.
When the Governor of 'Akká read Him the Sultán's edict condemning the exiles to prison for ever, 'Abdu'l-Bahá called it meaningless, since sooner or later the captives would leave the prison, dead or alive.
'Abdu'l-Bahá accepted no money or costly gifts; when a lady offered a friend's cheque to buy Him a motor-car, He thanked her, held it as though blessing it, and returned it to be used for gifts to the poor.
When a minister called on 'Abdu'l-Bahá at the Maxwell home in Montreal, He gave him an armful of American Beauty roses, and the visitor left in awe of His regal manners and gentle courtesy.
On her pilgrimage in 1901, Ethel Rosenberg, the first English woman to embrace the Bahá'í Faith in England, heard 'Abdu'l-Bahá say that we must strive to change our bad qualities into good ones.
To Mrs Smith, a new Bahá'í from a distinguished Philadelphia family who was suffering with a headache, 'Abdu'l-Bahá explained that happiness keeps our health while depression of spirit begets diseases.
In June 1870 Mírzá Mihdí, the Purest Branch, fell through an unguarded skylight in the barracks. Dying, he asked that his life be accepted as a ransom for those prevented from attaining the presence of their Beloved.
In Haifa in 1948 thieves stole the Guardian’s newly arrived Buick. Shoghi Effendi stayed calm, and a chance conversation in a Herzl Street shop led the police to the car, which was recovered.
Túbá Khánum recalls her little sister Ruh-Angiz, whom Bahá’u’lláh promised to love more than all the rest. After His passing the child longed to go to Him, and the next year she passed away.
In a 1911 report, Wellesley Tudor Pole described ‘Abdu’l-Bahá’s days in London: correspondence from about 5 a.m., interviews until midday, drives and visits in the afternoon, and gatherings of friends nearly every evening.
Two days before ‘Abdu’l-Bahá left Paris, a mother arrived from America. Her small daughter had pointed at His picture in a magazine store window, and she had caught a boat that same night.
When a reporter burst in on two Scottish visitors’ evening with ‘Abdu’l-Bahá in London, the Master led him away to His room, then explained that their wish for his absence had made the man uncomfortable.
In New York, two women wept when ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told Margaret He prayed for her late parents. With hands outstretched to calm them, He exclaimed in English, “Laugh! Laugh!”
At lunch in ‘Akká in 1908, two pilgrims told ‘Abdu’l-Bahá that their own faults made them unhappy. He told them to think of the Bounty of God, and smiled as He recalled an Arabic saying about the peacock.
In Chicago in 1912, under trees near Lake Michigan, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told His friends He had not called attention to their shortcomings, and asked them to be as considerate with one another.
When the Báb set out on a camel from Jaddih to Mecca, Quddús chose to walk beside Him all the way, holding the bridle by day and keeping watch over Him every night.
Early one morning in Dublin, New Hampshire, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá called over a ragged old man passing the inn, stepped into the shadow of the porch, and gave him His own trousers.
The mention of Mary Magdalene always brought joy to the face of Bahá’u’lláh. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá explained to Ethel Rosenberg what the "seven devils" cast out of her meant, and why she was greater than all the disciples.
At Gallipoli the exiles learned of an order to separate Bahá’u’lláh, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, the family and the followers. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told the Governor they would not submit, and after a week He won the concession that they remain together.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá retells an Arabian chronicle: Hanzala, pledged to die on King Nu'man's Day of Evil, returned to keep his word, and his faithfulness brought the king and his ministers to faith in God.
Bahá’u’lláh recalled how, chained in the dark dungeon of the Síyáh-Chál, He taught His fellow-prisoners verses which they chanted every night, until the sound reached the ears of Náṣiri’d-Dín Sháh.
On pilgrimage in ‘Akká, May Bolles (Maxwell) spoke against a fellow-believer. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá knew of it at once; at supper His gaze of compassion moved her to tears, and then He smiled and called her name.
Sent by ‘Abdu’l-Bahá to Chicago in 1901, Mírzá Abu’l-Faḍl and ‘Alí-Kuli Khán found believers confused by dream-reading and the occult, and taught them to weigh every inner prompting against the revealed Teachings.
An early pilgrim called ‘Roy’ was struck by the love and harmony among the Bahá’ís in the Most Great Prison. ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told him that the more the believers are united, the more they receive God’s confirmation.
A dying Turkish man in Haifa told his children that ‘Abdu’l-Bahá would be their father. The Master cared for the family, arranged the funeral and provided for their journey home to Turkey.
Harry Randall did not want to meet ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, but he carried Him a glass of grape juice and was told to sit down. After twenty restless minutes the Master spoke to him of the intellect and the heart.
Staying in a village near London, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá gave sixpences to the poor children who followed Him. When His hostess and another guest turned away a man who had walked six miles with his babies, the Master came out and embraced them all.
On meeting the polar explorer Admiral Peary in America, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá told him He hoped he would explore the invisibilities of the Kingdom.
Asked what He thought about women’s fashions, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá replied that He looked not at the dress but at the wearer: her chastity, culture and heavenly morality.
In spring ‘Abdu’l-Bahá wanted to visit the Chicago zoo. Though warned that mother animals hide their young from strangers, He went ahead alone, and each mother brought out her babies to show Him.
In San Francisco ‘Abdu’l-Bahá kept delaying His departure for a reception in Berkeley, to His hostess’s dismay, until a poor stranger who had walked fifteen miles to see Him rang the bell.
In Stuttgart in 1913 ‘Abdu’l-Bahá recalled how, as a child of eight or nine, He taught an educated man who was not convinced, and told him to go and receive seeing eyes and hearing ears.
On pilgrimage in 1921, Anna and Jakob Kunz heard ‘Abdu’l-Bahá counsel moderation in everything, even in thinking.
‘Abdu’l-Bahá told pilgrims how a Governor had stopped a Bahá’í from sailing from Haifa, and how, when that Governor later fell from power and was imprisoned, the Master showed him kindness and never let him know He remembered.
Near Mardin, on the journey from Baghdad to Constantinople, two mules belonging to an Arab traveller were stolen. Bahá’u’lláh halted the caravan and refused money in their place until the animals themselves were restored to their owner.
Each week ‘Abdu’l-Bahá walked from ‘Akká to visit Bahá’u’lláh at Bahjí. When His Father asked Him to ride, He rode, but dismounted as soon as He sighted the Mansion.
On pilgrimage in 1907 Corinne True brought ‘Abdu’l-Bahá a petition from Chicago to build a House of Worship. He described the Temple’s design, warned her she would suffer, and asked her to work for it.
Arriving to find that a revolution had scattered the men she carried letters to, Elizabeth Cheney prayed as she walked the streets until she stopped at a garden fence, where a gardener led her to one of them in hiding.
Housed in comfort in London, 'Abdu'l-Bahá was saddened by the hunger of people living nearby, as in New York, and foretold a time when the wealthy would spend their riches to improve their communities.
A woman who had enjoyed a talk by 'Abdu'l-Bahá in America complained that He repeated Himself; smiling, He asked her what it was He repeated, and she could not tell Him.
In the Súriy-i-Haykal, Bahá'u'lláh recounts how He moved to another house, hoping the flame of envy in His brother's breast might be quenched, and how His brother answered with the pen of calumny.
Hand of the Cause Leroy Ioas recalls the contrast between Shoghi Effendi's slight, refined frame and the power with which he spoke, and how closely the Guardian resembled 'Abdu'l-Bahá.
When Sutherland Maxwell lay near death in the winter of 1949–50, Shoghi Effendi insisted he should not die and had him taken to Switzerland, where he recovered so completely that the Guardian called it miraculous.
When someone criticized Lua Getsinger to 'Abdu'l-Bahá, He answered the critic with a smile: "But she loves her Lord."
Bahíyyih Khánum recalls how the Bábís handed over to the populace for torture remained unflinching, chanting prayers and asking God to pardon and bless their murderers.
As the Shrine of the Báb neared completion, Shoghi Effendi placed plaster from the Báb's prison cell at Máh-Kú beneath a tile of the dome; when Leroy Ioas offered to test the scaffolding first, the Guardian reminded him he was a mountaineer.
As he began writing The Advent of Divine Justice, Shoghi Effendi made a remark about America that Rúḥíyyih Khánum found hard to accept; he told her to swallow it, and over the years she came to see the truth in it.
Provisions 'Abdu'l-Bahá had grown and stored from 1912 onward saved Haifa's civilians from starvation in 1917 and 1918, and the British Government conferred a knighthood on Him, which He accepted as a gift "from a just king."
In the Chicago area, 'Abdu'l-Bahá visited the grave of Davis True at Oak Woods Cemetery with Corinne True and others, reciting the Prayer for the Dead and praying for all who were buried there.
On board the steamship Celtic, a woman told 'Abdu'l-Bahá that she was afraid of death. He urged her to enter the Divine Kingdom and spoke of the need to ride in the Ship of God.
When wealthy Western visitors prepared an elaborate hand-washing ceremony for 'Abdu'l-Bahá, He washed at a small water-trough, dried His hands on the gardener's cloth, and used their preparations for His guests instead.
A newly declared believer asked 'Abdu'l-Bahá what he should do and was told to study the Teachings. Eighteen years later he asked again, and received the same answer.
A man in 'Akká denounced 'Abdu'l-Bahá and hid his face from Him, yet for twenty-four years the Master sent him food, clothing and a doctor, until the man came weeping to beg His forgiveness.
When a poor Black man who often visited 'Abdu'l-Bahá at His Paris hotel was turned away by the management, the Master had him sought out and said He had come to establish the standard of Bahá'u'lláh.
While Bahá'u'lláh lay chained in the Siyah-Chal, His enemies failed to prove Him guilty and tried to poison Him. After four months He was released on condition of exile, ill and scarred by the chains.
Speaking at the Bowery Mission in New York, 'Abdu'l-Bahá told how Bahá'u'lláh, though wealthy, left all He had in Baghdad and lived two years among the poor, choosing the title The Poor One.
Warned in Paris of danger if He visited a certain country, 'Abdu'l-Bahá smilingly told Lady Blomfield that He had never been a day out of danger, and that His enemies had no power over His life.
In San Francisco, 'Abdu'l-Bahá visited Charles Tinsley, a Black believer long confined to bed with a broken leg, and told him not to be sad, for this affliction would make him spiritually stronger.
Confined in the home of Mírzá Muḥammad-Taqí in Sárí, Quddús spoke to him boldly about the Báb's Revelation, yet so courteously and with such humour that no one took offence, and his host even protected him.
In 1909 a pilgrim asked ‘Abdu’l-Bahá whether He would come to America if the believers built the Temple quickly. In 1911 He wrote that they must first put away their differences if they longed for His visit.
Riding in the countryside of Núr, Bahá’u’lláh met a dervish cooking his food. After Bahá’u’lláh spoke with him tenderly about the true nature of God, the dervish left his utensils behind and followed His horse, singing for joy.
On 23 May 1912, after speaking at a university in Worcester, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá joined the Boston Bahá’ís at Alice Breed's home to commemorate the Declaration of the Báb, spoke about the Báb's life, and lit the first candle on a birthday cake.
While Bahá’u’lláh was imprisoned in Ṭihrán, His wife Navváb fled with their three children, lived in fear for His life, and later sold her wedding treasures to provide for the journey into exile.
A pilgrim from Khusf who had seen nothing extraordinary in his first days in 'Akká was overwhelmed in Bahá’u’lláh's presence. Bahá’u’lláh then explained, with the example of a parrot and a mirror, why the Manifestations appear in human form.
On Riverside Drive in New York, ‘Abdu’l-Bahá met a poor man whose trousers were in rags, took him behind some shrubbery and gave him His own, then came back laughing with His aba wrapped around Him.
In a 1934 letter to Doris McKay, Howard Colby Ives explained how he and his wife accepted a life without a settled home, trusting that God provides a heavenly home for those who accept His Will.
Hand of the Cause Leroy Ioas recalls how Shoghi Effendi went straight to the heart of every question, grew weary of long, roundabout letters, and wanted every task to bring an immediate result.
Dr Yúnis Khán recalls how ‘Abdu’l-Bahá, sensing a fragrance from one sealed envelope, had it opened first; it held a violet picked from Thomas Breakwell's grave, and the Master wept.
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