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"The earth is but one country, and mankind its citizens."
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"The earth is but one country, and mankind its citizens."
8 stories where serenity appears.
On Friday the 25th of November 1921, 'Abdu'l-Bahá attended the noon prayer, gave alms to the poor, and that afternoon received the notables of Haifa. Two nights later, surrounded by His family, He spoke His last quiet words and passed peacefully in the small hours of the 28th of November.
On the eve of a fresh exile, with an uncertain road ahead, Bahá'u'lláh might have shown sorrow. Instead, the histories record, He showed "the greatest joy, dignity and power." This is the story of His bearing during the twelve days of Riḍván, and of how that serenity lifted the spirits of all who watched.
When a commission of the Ottoman government arrived in 'Akká empowered to recommend His exile or execution, 'Abdu'l-Bahá met the threat without a trace of fear. He declared His readiness to submit to any sentence they chose, refused a consul's offer of escape, and went on planting trees and presiding at a wedding feast — until the empire that menaced Him collapsed and He was set free.
Quddús was the youngest and the last of the Báb's first eighteen disciples, the Letters of the Living — and the one He raised highest. A youth of luminous refinement, learning, courtesy, and serenity, Quddús was chosen as the Báb's sole companion on the pilgrimage to Mecca, poured out commentaries of astonishing depth even under arrest and siege, and bore himself through every ordeal with a perfection of character that his companions never forgot.
For forty years 'Abdu'l-Bahá was a prisoner of the Ottoman state, and through every threat of exile to the deserts of North Africa and every renewed tightening of His confinement He remained serene, accepting each turn as the will of God. When in 1908 the gates of 'Akká at last swung open and He walked free, He met the long-awaited liberation with the very same tranquillity He had shown in captivity.
A learned man of 'Akká nursed a settled hatred for the Bahá'í prisoners, and one day, unable to bear hearing 'Abdu'l-Bahá praised, he stormed into the mosque to expose Him and laid violent hands on Him. The Master answered with a single sentence — and the enemy's wrath, and his hatred, simply left him. A story of the power of God to overturn a heart in a moment.
During the First World War the military governor of the region, Jamál Páshá, one of the most feared men in the Ottoman Empire, vowed to crucify 'Abdu'l-Bahá on Mount Carmel and raze the Bahá'í holy places. The Master met the threat with perfect calm — and before the general could carry it out, his army was routed and his power swept away.
In *Stories of Bahá'u'lláh* the Hand of the Cause Mr. 'Alí-Akbar Furútan preserves two early memories of the Blessed Beauty's childhood: His unusual composure as an infant, who almost never cried, and a prophetic dream He described at age five or six in which He stood unharmed amid attacking sea creatures and birds — interpreted by a noted dream-reader as a foreshadowing of His future Cause.