The Trusted Traveler

A retelling for children, based on the account of Haji Amin in Bahá'í Chronicles.

In a small town called Ardikan, in Persia, there lived a young man whose father was a farmer who owned his own land. The young man's name was Abu'l-Hasan. As a boy he had no idea that one day he would travel farther, carry more, and be trusted with more than almost anyone of his time.

When he was young, his wife's family told him about a new Messenger of God, the Báb. At first Abu'l-Hasan would not even listen. His wife's father and uncles tried hard to explain it to him, but he kept turning away. Then one day he met a man who could answer his questions, and something inside him finally opened. He became sure that the Báb spoke the truth.

A little while later, he read the words of Bahá'u'lláh and heard of His station — and this time he did not hesitate for a single moment. He believed right away, with his whole heart.

Now, Abu'l-Hasan's wife came from one of the most respected old families in the land, and that gave him a special gift: doors opened to him. He could travel from town to town, visiting families that had followed the Báb for years, sitting with them, and telling them the good news that Bahá'u'lláh had come. Many of them believed because of him.

In time he was given an enormous job. The Bahá'ís set aside a special offering, a gift of money called the Right of God, to be used for the good of all. Someone had to gather these gifts and carry them safely — across deserts, over mountains, through cities full of strangers. Abu'l-Hasan became the helper of the man who did this work, and soon he was doing it himself.

Think about how hard that was. His journeys sometimes lasted more than a whole year. Town after town, he collected the offerings and the precious letters that the Bahá'ís had written to Bahá'u'lláh. To pay for his own food and lodging along the way, he traded goods — and he wrote letters for Bahá'ís who had never learned to read or write, putting their words onto paper so that they too could be heard.

The most dangerous part was where the letters had to go. Bahá'u'lláh was a prisoner in the far-off prison-city of 'Akká, behind high walls and locked gates. In 1869, Abu'l-Hasan made the long trip there. He could not get inside to see Bahá'u'lláh. But he found a way to hand over everything he had carried — all the money, all the letters — to one of Bahá'u'lláh's helpers outside the walls.

Then he turned around and made the long journey home. And here is something wonderful: the Bahá'ís of Persia had been worried sick, not knowing what had become of Bahá'u'lláh. Abu'l-Hasan was the first to bring them the news — where He was, and that He was being held captive in 'Akká. You can imagine how the friends crowded around him to hear every word.

He went back to 'Akká again. And this time Bahá'u'lláh gave him a quiet, clever plan. Bahá'u'lláh would go, as He sometimes did, to the public baths in the city. Abu'l-Hasan was told to be there at exactly the same time. And so, in that ordinary place, the faithful traveler finally met Bahá'u'lláh with his own eyes — one of the very few from outside who ever did while Bahá'u'lláh was held in 'Akká.

His travels were not always safe. On one journey through the mountains, he and the older trustee he served were caught in the middle of a violent uprising. His companion was killed. Abu'l-Hasan himself was shot in the leg. Wounded, he struggled on until he reached a city called Tabriz, where he rested for a long time until he could walk again.

After that, Bahá'u'lláh chose Abu'l-Hasan to take over the great task of carrying the Right of God. From then on, the Bahá'ís stopped calling him by his old name. They began to call him Haji Amin — and amin means "the trusted one." They even called him the Trustee of God. It was the perfect name, because everyone knew that whatever you placed in his hands would arrive safely, exactly where it was meant to go.

Being trusted did not keep him out of trouble. One spring, the ruler of the country ordered his soldiers to arrest people he thought were stirring up unrest. The Bahá'ís had nothing at all to do with it — but Haji Amin and another believer were thrown into prison anyway, and kept there for two long years.

When at last he was set free, did he hide away and rest? No. He picked up his bundle and went straight back to his travels. By now Bahá'u'lláh had passed from this world, and Haji Amin took on a new duty too: going from place to place to explain the Covenant — the promise that keeps the Bahá'ís united and following the right guide after their Founder is gone.

He kept going for years and years. As he grew old, the long journeys became too much, so he carefully chose a younger man to help him and slowly handed the work over, making sure everything he had carried for a lifetime was left in good hands. He lived past the age of ninety.

Long after he was gone, the Guardian of the Faith, Shoghi Effendi, gave Haji Amin one of the highest honors there is, naming him a Hand of the Cause of God. The farmer's son from the little town of Ardikan was remembered forever as one of the great early believers.

Haji Amin's whole life was built on one simple thing: he could be trusted. When you keep your word, when you carry what others give you and never let it fall, when you do the hard and humble jobs faithfully year after year — that is its own kind of greatness. Anyone can become "the trusted one," just as he did, one kept promise at a time.

This is a retelling for children. For the fuller account, see "Haji Mirza Abu’l-Hasan Ardikani aka Haji Amin".

editors, B. C.. *Bahá'í Chronicles*. https://bahaichronicles.org/haji-mirza-abul-hasan-ardikani-haji-amin/