The Master and the Blind Man

The Baha'i Stories Blog preserves a small recollection from the Master's Washington days in late April and early May 1912 of a daily encounter at the corner of the boarding- house street where He was staying.

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The corner held a blind man — an elderly African American beggar who occupied the same corner every day, with a tin cup in his hand, accepting whatever passers-by would give. The Master, on His first morning's walk to a meeting, passed the corner and stopped. He greeted the blind man warmly. He asked his name. He pressed a small coin into the blind man's hand.

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The next morning He passed the same corner. He stopped again. He greeted the blind man — by his name now — and pressed in another small coin. The blind man, by the third or fourth morning, had learned to recognise the Master's voice. He would call out in greeting before the Master had even drawn level with the corner. The Master would respond with a brief blessing in His own language and would press the small coin into the blind man's hand.

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The pattern continued throughout the Washington visit. The Master's American hosts, accompanying Him to meetings across the city, observed the small ritual without interruption. One of them asked Him, in private, whether the daily small coin was strictly necessary — whether a single larger gift on the first day would not have served the same purpose more efficiently.

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> My friend at the corner needs My greeting more than the > strangers inside.

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The phrase, paraphrased in the blog's small post, gave the Master's reply. The blind man's poverty was not the deepest of his needs. The deeper need was the friendship that the daily greeting renewed. The small coin was the visible token of the friendship, not the substance of it. The Master had been visiting the corner not as a philanthropist but as a friend, and the friendship required the daily renewal that a single large gift would not have provided.

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