The Coppersmith Who Made Words Like Pearls

A retelling for children, based on the Bahá'í Chronicles account of Áqá Muḥammad-Ibráhím.

In the city of Káshán, in Persia, there lived a young coppersmith named Áqá Muḥammad. All day he worked with copper, hammering and shaping it, and he was the sort of person everyone liked to be around — cheerful, full of life, glad to be alive.

But Áqá Muḥammad had a second gift, a quiet one. He could make poems. When he put words together, they came out so lovely that people said his verses were like a string of pearls.

While he was still young, Áqá Muḥammad heard about a new light shining in the world — the message of Bahá'u'lláh. The moment that light reached his heart, he knew he had found something more precious than anything else. He did not wait. He left Káshán behind and traveled all the way to the city of Baghdad, and there he was given the great honor of coming into the presence of Bahá'u'lláh Himself.

In Baghdad, Áqá Muḥammad lived the way the best people do — kindly. He was a friend to everyone he met, whether he had known them for years or had just met them that day. He brought his own brothers from Persia to join him. He opened a little shop for arts and crafts. And whatever money he earned, he did not pile it up for himself — he spent it on others, on friends and strangers alike. To him, every single day felt like a brand new life, and a brand new joy.

Then came hard times. Áqá Muḥammad was taken prisoner and sent far away from Baghdad, and after that he made the long journey to the city of Haifa. He could have grown bitter. Instead, day and night, he humbly said his prayers and kept his thoughts on God. He looked after the other believers there, and quietly made sure that visitors who arrived tired from their travels had what they needed. He married in Haifa, and he and his wife had fine children.

There is one more thing the friends remembered about him. A beloved believer, known as the King of Martyrs, had given his life for the Faith. To honor him, Áqá Muḥammad wrote a poem — a song of sorrow and love. Then he stood up and read it aloud in the presence of Bahá'u'lláh. The words were so tender, so full of feeling, that everyone in the room began to weep, and the sound of their grief filled the air.

Áqá Muḥammad lived all his days like this, aiming high, never wavering, warm with love right to the end. And when at last it was time for him to leave this world, he was not afraid. He welcomed it, laughing like a rose that has suddenly burst into full bloom, calling out, "Here am I!"

Áqá Muḥammad shows us that a happy heart and a giving hand belong together. He worked hard, he gave away what he earned, he turned his sorrows into prayers and his love into poems — and so even the simplest coppersmith left behind something as beautiful and lasting as pearls.

This is a retelling for children. For the fuller account, see "Áqá Muḥammad-Ibráhím".

editors, B. C.. *Bahá'í Chronicles*. https://bahaichronicles.org/aqa-mu%e1%b8%a5ammad-ibrahim/