The Garden of Gladness

A retelling for children, based on Bahá'u'lláh and the New Era by J. E. Esslemont (1923).

In the city of Baghdád, near a wide river called the Tigris, there lived a group of people who loved Bahá'u'lláh with all their hearts. For years He had lived among them, and to them He was their beloved Leader. They could hardly imagine a single day without Him near.

Then one day, terrible news arrived. After a great deal of arguing back and forth between governments, an order had come from far away: Bahá'u'lláh was being summoned to a distant city called Constantinople. He would have to leave Baghdád, and travel a long, long way from the friends who loved Him.

When His followers heard this, they were filled with dismay. The thought of losing Him was almost too much to bear. They crowded around His house, again and again, not wanting to let Him go. So many people came, and stayed, that at last His family went out of the town and made their camp in a beautiful garden — the Garden of Najíb Páshá — where they would stay for twelve days while the long caravan was being made ready for the journey.

Now here is the strange and wonderful part. You would have expected Bahá'u'lláh to be sad, or worried, or weighed down by the hard road ahead. After all, He was being sent away as a prisoner, into exile.

But that is not what happened at all.

In that garden, instead of being sad or downcast, Bahá'u'lláh showed the greatest joy. He was full of dignity and power, calm and shining and strong. And the most amazing thing was that His joy spread to everyone around Him. His followers, who had been so heartbroken, became happy and full of hope. Great crowds came streaming out to the garden to pay their respects. Even the most important people of all Baghdád came — and the Governor of the city himself came to honor Him.

How could a man being sent into exile be so full of gladness? Because of a secret too great to keep hidden any longer.

It was springtime, and the garden was hung all over with roses. And it was in those very days that Bahá'u'lláh shared with some of His followers the most joyful news of all. Long before, there had lived a holy Teacher called the Báb, who had promised that One was coming after Him — One sent by God, the Promised One that all the Prophets had foretold. For nineteen years, people had waited and wondered who this Promised One would be.

Now, in the garden, Bahá'u'lláh told them: He was that very One. He was the Promised One the Báb had spoken of. The day the whole world had been waiting for had finally come.

Suddenly everything looked different. What seemed, from the outside, like a sad goodbye was really, on the inside, the most glorious beginning. The garden by the river was not a place of leaving at all — it was a place of arrival, where at last the great announcement was spoken aloud.

Bahá'ís have never forgotten those twelve days. They named that place the Garden of Riḍván, which means Paradise. And every single year they remember it with great gladness, in a joyful time called the Feast of Riḍván. The very first afternoon — the moment Bahá'u'lláh stepped into the garden — is the most holy and happy festival of the whole Bahá'í year.

So remember this: the saddest-looking day can hold the happiest secret inside it. Even on the edge of a hard journey, Bahá'u'lláh stood among the roses with joy and dignity and power — and turned a goodbye into the greatest good news the world had ever heard.

This is a retelling for children. For the fuller account, see "The Garden of Najíb Páshá: First Day of Riḍván".

Esslemont, J. E.. (1923). *Bahá'u'lláh and the New Era*. George Allen & Unwin. https://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/19241/pg19241-images.html