Nabíl, Who Loved So Much

A retelling for children, based on Memorials of the Faithful by 'Abdu'l-Bahá, from the chapter about Nabíl-i-Zarandí.

Long ago, in a land far from here, there lived a man named Nabíl. More than anything else in the whole world, Nabíl loved Bahá'u'lláh — and he gave his whole life to following Him.

When Nabíl was young, there came a time when no one knew where Bahá'u'lláh had gone. So Nabíl went looking for Him. He searched and searched, all the way into the faraway mountains of Kurdistán, the way you might search for someone you could not bear to lose.

And once he had found Him, Nabíl could not keep such good news to himself. He traveled across the whole country of Persia, telling people everywhere the wonderful news: that Bahá'u'lláh had come.

It was not always easy. Those were hard years. Bahá'u'lláh was kept as a prisoner in a city called 'Akká, and at times the gates were shut so tightly that Nabíl was turned away and could not even get in to see Him.

There was a stretch of time when Nabíl went to live all alone in a cave on a mountain called Carmel. Day and night he prayed there, and chanted, and sang out his longing — missing Bahá'u'lláh so much that he could think of almost nothing else. He waited like that until at last he was allowed to come back and stand once more in the presence of the One he loved.

Can you imagine loving someone that much? Searching mountains for them, crossing a whole country for them, waiting alone in a cave just to be near them again? That was the size of Nabíl's love.

Then came a day Nabíl had dreaded all his life. On the twenty-ninth of May, in the year 1892, at a place called Bahjí, Bahá'u'lláh passed from this world. Bahá'ís call that day the Ascension of Bahá'u'lláh, and every year they remember it together.

For Nabíl, it was the saddest day there had ever been. 'Abdu'l-Bahá tells us that Nabíl sobbed and trembled and cried out to Heaven. His heart was so full of grief that anyone who saw him hardly knew what to say or do.

But here is something quiet and remarkable. Long before, Bahá'u'lláh had written words that pointed to this very time. Nabíl, who loved books and words and was very clever with them, looked closely and discovered it: that Bahá'u'lláh had known, and had foretold, what would one day come to pass. Even in his sorrow, Nabíl could see that nothing had happened by accident.

Nabíl missed Bahá'u'lláh so deeply that his heart could not heal. His longing burned in him like a flame. And so, in the end, the waters carried him away, and — as 'Abdu'l-Bahá says — he came at last to the Most High.

That is why, to this day, Bahá'ís still tell the story of Nabíl. Not because his story is an easy one, but because of how very much he loved. 'Abdu'l-Bahá Himself chose to remember him with honor. Real love, the kind Nabíl had, does not give up and does not forget. It stays faithful through the hard times and the long waits and the saddest days of all — and that kind of love is never, ever wasted.

This is a retelling for children. For the fuller account, see "The Year of Stress: Nabíl's Grief at the Ascension of Bahá'u'lláh".

'Abdu'l-Bahá. (1915). *Memorials of the Faithful*. Bahá'í Publishing Trust. https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/19279/pg19279-images.html