Here’s a little gem from the book The Arc of Ascent (read it yourself for the full picture).

These words were spoken by God to Daniel:
“But you, Daniel, shut up the words, and seal the book until the time of the end; many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall increase.” Daniel 12:4

“Go your way, Daniel, for the words are closed up and sealed till the time of the end.” Daniel 12:9

In the Quran, Muhammad states that in this day the righteous will be rewarded:
“Choice sealed wine shall be given them to quaff, The seal of musk.” Sura 42-114

Shoghi Effendi describes the Kitab-i-Iqan:
it proffered to mankind the “Choice Sealed Wine,” whose seal is of “musk,” and broke the “seals” of the “Book” referred to by Daniel God Passes By, p. 139

So we have this Choice Wine, but it is still sealed, albeit with an attractive perfume (musk) as a seal.

“Think not that We have revealed unto you a mere code of laws. Nay, rather, We have unsealed the choice Wine with the fingers of might and power.” Kitab-i-Aqdas no. 5

Thus the relation between spiritual guidance (the wine, which is sealed) and the laws and institutions through which this guidance can be applied (the wineskin which holds the wine).

The spiritual world is like unto the phenomenal world. They are the exact counterpart of each other. Whatever objects appear in this world of existence are the outer pictures of the world of heaven.

Reading the book: The Arc of Ascent by John S. Hatcher. Highly recommended - I am starting to understand better the statement of human purpose in the short obligatory prayer: “I bear witness, O my God, that Thou hast created me to know Thee and to worship Thee”. In very brief, to ‘know’ God means practicing reflecting the attributes of God (as instructed by the Manifestations), and to ‘worship’ refers to the actions performed in service. There is so much more to it - and I hope to be able to understand better what the Arc of Descent and Ascent mean by the end of the book.

O OPPRESSORS ON EARTH! Withdraw your hands from tyranny, for I have pledged Myself not to forgive any man’s injustice. This is My covenant which I have irrevocably decreed in the preserved tablet and sealed with My seal.

O ye friends of God! Show ye an endeavor that all the nations and communities of the world, even the enemies, put their trust, assurance and hope in you; that if a person falls into errors for a hundred-thousand times he may yet turn his face to you, hopeful that you will forgive his sins; for he must not become hopeless, neither grieved nor despondent. This is the conduct and the manner of the people of Baha’. This is the foundation of the most high pathway! Ye should conform your conduct and manners with the advices of Abdul-Baha.

The following is a story from The Heroic Female Spirit: A Collection of Tales, by Phyllis K. Peterson. The stories are inspired by teachings of the Bahá’í Faith, and reinforce spiritual qualities. They also provide positive examples of girls and women who learn to see their own capacity to create change. Grab a copy and read it, if you get a chance!

THE GIRL WHO COULD OPEN DOORS WITH HER HEART

King Shevon, like so many rulers before him, was unsatisfied with his rule. He desired complete obedience from his subjects and wished that the very sound of his voice would compel them to obey his wishes. He was not a cruel man, but he craved more power, unlike queen Raisa, who was wisely less controlling and more beneficent toward the people. Little did King Shevon know that the wind was listening to him and, hearing his desire to command, decided to carry his wishes far and wide, though not in the way that he hoped.

One night as he slept, worries that thieves would try to steal his royal treasures crept into his dreams. He awoke in the middle of the night in a panic. “Let no one open that door!” he called out, referring to the door to the royal treasury.

The next morning he rushed down to the treasury to make sure it was still secure, but when he tried to open the door to inspect his riches, he found that it was stuck fast. He called the captain of the guards—a huge brute of a man—who pushed and kicked, but the door remained stuck. He called the commander of the knights, an intelligent and resourceful man who had saved the kingdom numerous times, but after ten hearty heaves and ten hefty hos, he had dents in his armor, and still the door would not open.

Realizing that brute strength and sheer intelligence weren’t enough, the king called the architect who had designed the castle, thinking surely he could find a way around the door. The man scratched his head, looked at the blueprints, and investigated the structure but could find no way in. Thinking perhaps it was a problem with the locks, the king summoned the royal locksmith. After trying key after key after key and hearing click after tumble after click with no results, the locksmith declared that it was not the lock.

Within days the king was running out of money. There were many things that needed to be done. He and the queen were planning a lavish holiday celebration and the date was fast approaching. There were plans to be made and food to be bought. There were dresses and suits to be tailored, and gifts to be purchased. He began to grow despondent.

In despair, the king sent for the wizard. When the wizard arrived, he gazed at the door and scratched his beard. He performed a magic chant and touched the door to the treasury with his wand, but still the door did not open. “What kind of spell is this that is stronger than your magic, wizard?” asked the king.

The wizard said something that really confused the king: “Only one who is truly innocent can solve this mystery. The solution is carried on the wind, and only one who is pure of heart can listen to it.”

The king was distraught, for he did not believe in innocence. He was a wary, skeptical king who had seen much and been disappointed by many. He was convinced that nowhere in his kingdom or in any other kingdom was there someone so pure and capable. If the door could only be opened by an innocent, why then, it could never be opened; the king pronounced it impossible to open. Little did he know that it was he who had endangered his entire kingdom!

Meanwhile bills were piling up with no way to pay them. Guests for the upcoming celebration sent messages of their imminent arrival, but the king knew there would be no food in the pantry to feed them and no exotic gifts to present to them if he did not find a way to open the door to the treasury.

As the king slept that night he had an ominous dream. He dreamed that three men were ravaging his kingdom. The first man was obese and was eating virtually everything in the kingdom that was edible, growing visibly fatter by the minute. The second man was covered with disfiguring open sores that would not heal; wherever he went, everyone fled from him in horror. The third man was a masked bandit who was terrorizing people throughout the land, stealing their money and possessions and leaving them penniless. The king awoke in a sweat in the middle of the night, disturbed by the vision in his dream. He felt it portended some great misfortune but did not know exactly what to make of it. The next morning he called for the royal soothsayer to come to his chamber to interpret the dream.

When the soothsayer arrived, the king recounted his dream in careful detail. “What does this dream mean?” the king asked. “It makes no sense to me, but it leaves me with a feeling of great dread. I’m afraid it may be an omen.”

“In truth, your majesty, I believe you will not like what I have to say,” said the soothsayer, “but I must tell you that your kingdom will be visited by disaster.”

“Just as I feared,” said the king. “But what kind of disaster? Can you tell me more?”

“The man who eats too much represents famine and hunger,” replied the soothsayer. “Something will threaten the kingdom’s food supply, and your people will go hungry if you do not act.”

“I see,” said the king, looking very puzzled indeed, for as far as he knew, the farms and farmers of his realm were thriving, and he was aware of no immediate threat to the food supply. “And what about the man with the skin malady’?” he asked.

“He is sickness and death. Your kingdom will be threatened by a plague,” said the soothsayer.

“How can this be?” said the king. “My people are in good health, and we have the finest healers!” The king was becoming very perplexed and began to wonder if he should trust the royal soothsayer. “And what do you make of the masked bandit?” he asked somewhat dubiously.

“Poverty, your majesty.” The soothsayer paused, seeming somewhat embarrassed and uncomfortable. He continued hesitantly, “There are problems with money and finances. The people are being deprived of what should be theirs, and they will suffer if this continues.”

“Oh, nonsense!” cried the king. “This makes no sense at all!” He dismissed the soothsayer and gave the matter no more thought.

Later that same clay, however, the king discovered to his horror that the omens in his dream had come true. Alarming reports came in saying that half the people in his kingdom had suddenly fallen ill with a mysterious disease. Furthermore, locusts had descended on the kingdom’s crops and were rapidly decimating them. And as if that weren’t enough, the king’s creditors were threatening revolt if he did not pay his bills at once.

His mind turned dark, as did his heart. He went once again to the treasury door and tried to open it, but still found it stuck fast. “Life always did deal with me harshly,” he thought. “I don’t think I can survive this.”

When the king awoke the next morning, he felt very ill and worried that the same mysterious illness that was spreading through the kingdom had now afflicted him. He called the royal physician, who predicted the worst. When the king heard this dire prognosis, his condition worsened. He had a raging fever and in his delirium he tossed and turned. The wind heard his moans and knew that he was near death, so it tickled his ear with a name: Florence.

“Florence,” the king said weakly, not really understanding why, but feeling suddenly that he needed to see her.

The physician looked at the queen and asked, “Who pray tell, is Florence?”

Queen Raisa shrugged her shoulders. She knew nobody by that name. The queen and the physician asked the royal census taker if he knew of anyone named Florence.

“No,” he said, “I’ve heard of no woman in this kingdom named Florence.”

But the king kept repeating the name, and Queen Raisa thought that perhaps this mysterious woman named Florence held the key to her husband’s survival. With his condition worsening rapidly, it became clear that something had to be done, and quickly.

She cast a loving glance at the suffering king and decided to take matters into her own hands. Riding on horseback, she went from village to village to inquire about a woman named Florence. There were many women: Kathryn, Gertrude, Vanessa, Cecilia, and countless others, but no one named Florence.

The queen passed through village after village with no success. After visiting every single village in her husband’s kingdom, still there was no woman called Florence to be found. The sun was beginning to set, and soon she would be forced to turn back. She was terribly thirsty and needed a drink before turning around to head back to the castle. As she passed through the very last village, preparing to turn back, she spotted a child smiling at her from the window of a broken-down shack. The child had the most angelic smile the queen had ever seen. The queen was enchanted by the sweet and simple nature of the girl and decided this was as good a place as any to stop for a drink of water. She approached the shack and knocked on the door. The child answered.

“I’m in need of a drink of water, dear child. May I come in?”

The child did not know who she was dealing with, for she had never before seen the queen and did not curtsy, but she gladly offered a cup of water to satisfy her guest’s thirst.

The queen asked, “Child, do you know a woman named Florence?”

“No, ma’am, I don’t,” the girl answered.

This was very discouraging. The queen was losing hope. “What is your name, child?” the queen asked, making a mental note to be sure to remember the name of this friendly girl when she returned to the castle so she could later send a royal thank-you note.
“Florence,” she replied.

“But I thought you said you didn’t know anyone named Florence!” said the queen.

“You asked me if I knew any woman named Florence, Ma’am. I thought you were looking for a grown-up,” the girl explained.

“Why, then, I wonder if you are who I am looking for?” said the queen, somewhat puzzled. She did not see how a child could possibly be of any use in this situation, yet she was desperate enough to try nearly anything, for there was little to lose at this point. “Florence,” she said, “would you ask your mother if you may come with me to the royal castle? The king is very sick, and I believe you can help.”

“Of course I will,” said Florence. Her mother happily gave her consent for Florence to go, and together the pair rode back to the castle. Florence was brought before the king.

“Florence,” he cried out in his fever. “Save me, save us all!”

Florence looked at the queen, who encouraged her with a gentle nudge.

Florence approached the king. “What is it you need me to do, Sir’?” she asked.

“Florence, my kingdom is in great danger and nearly at its end,” said the king. With great effort, he sat up in bed, feverish and drenched in sweat. “Do you know the answer to what has befallen me and my kingdom? Can you advise me about what to do?” he asked. He really did not expect that she—a mere child, and a girl at that—would be able to solve these perplexing problems, but for the moment he was willing to let her try.

“Sir, all I know is what my mother taught me: that the words we speak become our future when the wind carries them to all the forces of the universe,” she told him.

“The wind?” The king asked, unsure of how to interpret the words. Then he remembered what the wizard had told him, that only one who is pure-hearted could listen to the wind. “Can you hear the voice of the wind, Florence? Will it tell you why I’ve become sick, or why I can’t open the door to my treasury?” asked the king.

Florence closed her eyes and listened intently for a long time, not with her ears, but with her heart. She heard the whisper of the wind as it moved through the room, and she heard the faint echoes of the king’s own words that had created his affliction.

She opened her eyes and looked at the king. She quietly told him, “You closed the treasury yourself—don’t you remember? I heard you say that no one could open the door, and the wind carried your words to the forces of the universe. Then you said you were tired of being the king. The words you spoke became your future. And when you said, ‘I don’t think I can survive this,’ that’s when you became sick.”

“But what must I do to change all of this?” begged the king.

“Speak words of blessing, your majesty, and your future will change,” Florence replied.

King Shevon sat up and pondered this wisdom. Then with all the strength he had in his body, he cried out, “Bless this kingdom and its king!”

Then Queen Raisa, too, took up the cry, “Bless this kingdom and its king!”

Then Florence joined them, saying, “Bless this kingdom and its king!” And the wind carried this chant far and wide across the land, to every valley and hill and every meadow and stream. Almost immediately the king felt some life flowing back into his veins, but still he was not completely well.

“What you have said can’t simply be undone with words— it requires acts of blessing, too,” Florence explained. “You must show kindness and rule with wisdom.”

By now the king was sipping some hot chicken soup and was feeling much better. Finishing that, he decided to test his legs to see if he had recovered enough to stand up again. Finding that he could, he called for his cane and asked everyone to follow him to the treasury door.

“Let the door open,” he said. He grasped its handle and turned and pulled it, but to his disappointment he found the door still wouldn’t budge. “What more must I do to open the treasury?” he asked Florence.

“For this,” she told him, “you must perform an act of generosity. Instead of hoarding your riches and possessions, you must give away what you have no need for.”

“Hmmm. I have many things that are not being used.” He paused to think on this for a moment. “Captain of the guards!” he called. “Whatever is not of use to our family, I wish to dispense to the people of the village.” And so it was done.

Gaining confidence, the king declared, “I take back every untrue word I have said about life, people, health, prosperity, and this door! I want those false words to return to nothing because they arose from the vain imaginings of my heart. Now and forevermore, I want the wind to spread my blessings throughout the land.”
Florence’s heart was filled with love and admiration for the king. She stood beside him and together they visualized the door opening. “Bless this door, for it is good,” they spoke to the wind. “Bless this door, for it is a willing servant to the king. It opens with kindness, it closes with kindness.” Just then, a gentle wind began to blow through the window, and the door creaked open.

The queen, amazed at what she had seen, asked Florence, “Child, if you have this great wisdom, why do you live so humbly?”

“I lived humbly before, but now look!” she said, leading them outside the castle into view of the nearby village. The entire village had been transformed. Instead of huts and shacks, there were beautiful homes. The illness that had afflicted the people faded, and there were joyful people making preparations to replant the crops the locusts had destroyed. Not only that, but a caravan of camels approached, carrying in new supplies to replenish the decimated food supply. It was truly a paradise!

From that moment on the king, the queen, and everyone in the kingdom were careful to speak only words of truth and blessing. If something went wrong in their lives, they blessed it with their words and deeds and imagined it being set right. If someone wronged them, they blessed the errant one with all the love in their heart and beseeched the forces of the universe to make them as one. And the wind circled the earth with all their blessings!

Make what you will of this, but to me it looks like flowers are banned. What a sad world!

The Prophets of God have always replied: “You were content to stay in the animal world, We wanted to make you human beings. You were dark, We wanted you illumined; you were dead, We wanted you alive. You were earthly, We wanted you heavenly.”
- p. 141 in Vignettes from the Life of `Abdu’l-Bahá

O SON OF SPIRIT!
The bird seeketh its nest; the nightingale the charm of the rose; whilst those birds, the hearts of men, content with transient dust, have strayed far from their eternal nest, and with eyes turned towards the slough of heedlessness are bereft of the glory of the divine presence. Alas! How strange and pitiful; for a mere cupful, they have turned away from the billowing seas of the Most High, and remained far from the most effulgent horizon.

The other day some some friends and I were talking about the nightingale, and wondering what it sounds like. The following are some of the results of googling the subject.

According to the wikipedia entry on Nightingale:

Nightingales are named so because they frequently sing at night as well as during the day.
Early writers assumed the female sang; in fact, it is the male.
The song is loud, with an impressive range of whistles, trills and gurgles.

Picture from wikipedia:

Found some sound clips of nightingales on the freesoundproject - here’s one by reinsamba:

In the Conference of the Birds by Attar, one of the birds mentioned is the Nightingale, and here’s how his part of the story starts:

The nightingale raises his head, drugged with passion,
Pouring the oil of earthly love in such a fashion
That the other birds shaded with his song, grow mute.
The leaping mysteries of his melodies are acute.
‘I know the secrets of Love, I am their piper,’
He sings, ‘I seek a David with broken heart to decipher
Their plaintive barbs, I inspire the yearning flute,
The daemon of the plucked conversation of the lute.
The roses are dissolved into fragrance by my song,
Hearts are torn with its sobbing tone, broken along
The fault lines of longing filled with desire’s wrong.

There is a poem by John Keats in 1819 called Ode to a Nightingale. It talks about the immortal nightingale and mortal man. Apparently spring came early in 1819.

There is also a fairy tale written by Danish author and poet Hans Christian Andersen in 1844 called The Nightingale:

The Emperor of China hears that one of the most beautiful things in his own land is the song of the nightingale. He sends his courtiers to take a nightingale from the nearby forest and present her as a guest at court. The bird can communicate with the humans and agrees to come, but when the Emperor is given a mechanical nightingale covered with jewels, he loses interest in the real bird, which flies back to its home. The mechanical bird breaks down. When the Emperor is taken ill, only the song of the true nightingale can heal him.

Here’s an adaptation of the play, by Faerie Tale Theatre:

Then, see Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5 and Part 6

Finally, a song of Yanni, inspired by a Nightingale:

March 3rd, 1896-November 4th, 1957

In a few hours, it will have been exactly 50 years since the Guardian passed away. It is even more special to remember the occasion while serving at the Baha’i World Centre, where one can directly see the physical evidence of the Guardian’s life work. It is hard to believe that just 50 years ago, Shoghi Effendi walked the same streets we are walking today, ate the same food, talked to the same locals (literally, in some cases), sat in the same chair in the Pilgrim House, said prayers at the same spot in the Shrines, talked to the pilgrims and was part of making their experience such a profoundly spiritual one, just as the staff here try to do today.

His spirit lives on among us, in the example he left us of how to live a life dedicated to service, in the copious writings and guidance he left us, which by themselves extend the institution of the Guardianship forward to the end of this dispensation, in the gardens we walk around every day, which serve as an enduring tribute to their creator and as a pattern for future development, in the buildings and monuments we work in and around every day, which are a symbol of the global administrative order laid out in detail and brought into being by him, and on a more personal level, as a worthy figure to heroize (something which is sorely lacking in the world today), along with all the other saintly figures he writes about in his book God Passes By.

From his wife Ruhiyyih Khanum, on his passing: “He was our Guardian, King of the world. We know he was noble because he was our Guardian. We know that God gave him peace in the end. But as I looked at him all I could think of was — how beautiful he is, how beautiful! A celestial beauty seemed to be poured over him and to rest on him and stream from him like a mighty benediction from on high. And the wonderful hands, so like the hands of Baha’u'llah, lay softly by his side; it seemed impossible the life had gone from them — or from that radiant face.“

I much prefer Attar to Rumi and the other poets I’ve read, probably because I understand what he’s saying the most (I just don’t get Rumi, most of the time). I’m reading all of this in English of course, so the quality of the translation probably has a lot to do with it.

Whoever drinks the mystics’ wine is king
Of all the world can show, of everything -
Its realms are specks of his authority,
The heavens but a ship on his wide sea;
If all the sultans of the world could know
That shoreless sea, its mighty ebb and flow,
They’d sit and mourn their wretched impotence
With eyes ashamed to meet each other’s glance

Ordered from Amazon, a week later it’s in my hands, all 886 pages. Can’t wait to read it..

23
O Watchful and loving Lord! Keep our little ones this day under Thy protection. Permit no evil influence to reach or to come near them. Preserve them from illness, from accident, and from all mishap. And in the evening bring them home to their rest in safety and happiness.

24
Praise be to Thee, O God, Who hast given to these children the boon of earthly life, and brought them thus far upon the road that leads to life eternal!
O Thou of many gifts, vouchsafe these little ones the mortal boon of health, prosperity and happiness; and since these blessings soon must pass away and be no more, admit them to Thy boundless worlds of love, endow and so train their hearts that they may be able to receive and hold fast for ever in joy the knowledge of Thy coming and Thy glory. Thou art the All-Compassionate, the All-Wise.

25
This home is a garden, O Lord, which Thy hand has planted in the world, and the hearts of these children are Thy flowers. Do Thou tend them and nourish them.
Pour down the rays of Thy truth upon them. Breathe Thy Holy Spirit upon them at every breath. Let Thy mercy descend on them like refreshing rain.
So shall these flowers of Thine mature, and bloom in beauty, and shed afar the fragrance of Thy love and remain Thine to their lives’ end.

26
Praise be to Thee, dear Lord, Who grantest to Thy servants bounty upon bounty. Thou bestowest on us the marriage-blessing of children bringing with them a thousand delights; and in this very gift Thou openest to us of Thy grace a new world of service to Thee, a new road to Thy good pleasure and favour.
Help us, in love and gratitude to Thee, so to direct and train these little ones that they may become men and women after Thine own heart, and may take their place as Thy lamps shining brightly in a dark world.

27
O Thou, the Lover, the Creator and the Lord of these children, help us their parents to guard and train them not through human love alone, but as an act of love for Thee, and of obedience to Thy command.
Grant us selflessness and devotion, that we may be able in our hearts to hear Thy bidding, and understand Thy will for these little ones.
Help us to do for them our utmost in Thy name, and in calm trust to leave the rest to Thee, the All-wise Who lovest these Thy children better yet—far better—than any human parent may love his child.

28
Let Reverence towards Thee, dear Lord, and kindness towards all that lives be graven deep into these children’s hearts.
Give us, their parents, wisdom and steadfastness, that we may unfold to them, little by little, at the right time and in the right way, the knowledge of Thy Truth and by the example of our lives may amend whatever is amiss in our teaching.
Let them increase day by day in spiritual strength that they may learn of Thee the mystery of prayer, and may attain the reward of conscious communion with Thy Spirit.

29
O Father in heaven, Who givest to a parents’ intercession a special privilege, hear Thou our prayer for these children whom Thou hast entrusted to our care.
Protect them, we beseech Thee, against the evil that arises in their own hearts, against the contagion of their parents’ frailties and imperfections, against the power of those whose hearts are turned from Thee.
Help us to pray for our children with concentration and humility of spirit, and by force of prayer offered in Thy Name to keep back, far from them, the evil influences that seek their destruction.

30
O Thou Who hast blessed us with Thy gift of children, let not the wonder and the happiness of these days of their infancy ever pass wholly from our hearts!
Grant us a strong undying memory of whatever is most precious in these fleeting days, that in the aftertime when our little ones are no longer little we may still keep in our hearts countless images and echoes of their babyhood, may see again their open innocent faces, may hear their voices striving to imitate their elders’ speech and recall these tireless infant feats of growing knowledge and gathering strength.
So shall the unworldly beauty of these childhood days abide with us forever, and not be wholly lost in the ripe happiness of the later time.

31
“Of such is the Kingdom of Heaven.”
Grant to these little ones, O Lord, that the gifts and qualities which now are theirs through weakness they may make their own by strength. Let them through all the years retain this child-like heart, continuing humble and receptive as now, full of wonder, eager to learn. Increase day by day and year by year their faith that as the children of a Higher Home than this they may become heirs of Eternity and earn the blessed fruits of this Divine Age of Fulfilment. Amen.

32
Here, O Lord, within the precincts of Thy protection, Love is king and Faith and Hope are the lords of thought. But in the world without, Faith and Hope wander in a wilderness and a stranger sits upon Love’s throne.
Be Thou, O Lord, the strength and shield of these little ones from their life’s beginning to its very end. Grant that their love and faith and hope may prevail against every enemy and put to shame all doubt and disbelief. Give them fortitude and power that through childhood and manhood, in prosperity and in adversity, they may continue that journey toward Thee which here they have begun, and may to their lives’ end bear witness to Thy truth and remain firm in Thy covenant.

33
O God, look on us who with ceaseless care keep watch and ward over these children, and suffer not our anxiety for them to become a sign of lack of trust in Thee.
We acknowledge that they are in Thy safe keeping. It is for Thee to appoint unto them their tasks in life, and Thou wilt bestow on them ample strength and means to perform all that Thou requirest.
Help us to pass on to them the divine Message of the Day of God to give to them the best we have to give, and doing this, to leave their souls to Thee in perfect trust.

34
Praise be to Thee, O God, for Thy bounty to the weak, the young, the humble, and for Thy power whereby Thou doest whatsoever Thou willest, unhelped, unhindered, uncomprehended by the thoughts of men!
Thou puttest down the mighty, and dost exalt them of low estate.
Thou hidest Thy mystery from the wise and learned, and revealest it to them who are as babes.
The scholar and philosopher see and perceive not, read and understand not; the child beholding Thy beauty steps into Thy Kingdom.
O Loving Lord, Who hast never turned away from a longing heart, nor an appealing cry, we pray then by Thy Most Great Name to deal with these little ones—these tender branches of the tree of life—according to Thy all perfect knowledge and desire.

35
O Lord, look upon these little ones, children of Thy covenant born of those whose hearts are turned to Thee. Keep them from the first unto the last under Thy protection and suffer them not to follow any desire save what may become servants of Thy truth, lovers of Thy Beauty.

36
Hear Thou, O God, our prayer for the children of this Age throughout the world!
Look with pity on those whose parents have not turned their hearts to Thee nor humbled themselves before Thy Manifestation. By Thy boundless mercy and Thy prevailing will, deliver them out of the darkness that surrounds them, and draw them toward Thy light. Create in their souls a hunger and thirst for righteousness, a longing for spiritual truth; and prepare their minds to listen for Thy voice and to welcome Thy glad tidings.
And now, O God, we beg Thee for these our children and for all others born beneath Thy covenant that Thou wilt endow them with power to recognise and to use to the utmost the blessing Thou hast given them. Grant them strength to stand fast by Thy truth, to uphold Thy cause, and in their time to spread far and near the knowledge of Thy glory and dominion.

37
Father of mine, and of my little son who kneels at my side and lifts his voice to Thee, hear Thou his prayer and mine. Protect those whom he loves and prays for. Lead him onward and ever onward in Thy way till he shall understand that within his weak and mortal body is hidden the sacred light of Thine imperishable Presence.

38
O Transcendent and Incomparable Lord!
Thou hast bidden us look to Thee as to our Father in heaven; teach me to keep in my heart this chosen Name of Thine, that I may discern the true ideal of fatherhood, and learn what Thou wouldst have an earthly father be. Strengthen me with Thy Spirit that I may deserve the trust, the obedience and the love of my little ones. Make me remember that they will learn the meaning of fatherhood from their earthly father, and forbid, O Lord, that I by my unworthiness should lead Thy children astray in their first thoughts of Thee. Thou art the Everpresent, the All-wise.

39
There was one who, being crossed, spoke to his son in anger, and saw the child’s face change in fear.
Thereafter, praying in penitence, he heard the Voice of the Spirit speak to him:
“Think not to number this weak one among thy possessions, nor imagine him to be thy creation. Thou callest him thy son. Yet within his infant soul lies hidden that which is deeper than thy knowing. In heaven his spirit stands now among the angels of My presence, and here on earth the sword of My justice protects and avenges him against all, and especially against thee. Love thou thy son, and love thyself in him. Teach him My way, and walk in it thyself that thou mayest be his guide. He is not thine, but Mine. Therefore, in all thou dost with him keep Me in remembrance, and fear Me. This is thy duty. See that thou fulfil it always, and slack not therein.”

40
O Loving Lord!
To the mountain-stream Thou hast given its bubbles that dance and tremble and break in light.
To the forest depths Thou hast given the fresh flowerbuds that burst and open and unfold their tender petals in perfect beauty.
To me Thou hast given the first baby-kiss of this little one who presses her tiny lips upon my lips in love.

41
Little one, little one of my heart, I am thy first love and the first to give thee a heart in love.
When I come near, thou smilest and stretchest out thy little hands. And when I lift thee to me, thou foldest thine arms about my neck, and pressest thy smooth cheek to mine, calling me love names in thy baby-talk.
What is there so sweet as love! and what love is so sweet as love at its dawning, new love, first love!
Yet night by night I kneel, and beg of Him Who answers every prayer that through the coming years He will make ever more deep and sweet this early love of ours.

42
O Little one, my Una, April’s child, thou breath of the spring wind embodied!
The bluebells cluster about thy knees; overhead the giant beech trees spread their half-unfolded leaves; across the meadow the cuckoo calls, and from the distant bog comes the curlew’s lonely cry.
How happy art thou, leading the revel of the woods, their native queen, for whom a thousand springs have come and gone to weave thy flower-beauty, and to find their meaning and perfection in these fresh lips and laughing eyes of thine.
O little one, joys more rare than these await thy wakening heart! A richer spring has cast its bounty at thy feet, a greater glory shines from another Heaven. And never morning breaks nor evening falls but lovers’ prayers go forth to beg the early vision of God’s Golden Age for thee who playest here thinking all happiness is already thine!

43
Child of my heart, call not me your Father; and this dear wife of mine that gave you birth, call not her your mother. Think not the home we make for you is your True Home. The life that is bestowed on you through us will soon pass away and perish; but you, my son, you will not perish.
This life is a steed to bear you to the Kingdom of Eternity, of which you are born a Prince. The Ruler of that Kingdom is your Father. His Palace is your Home. You are heir to a mighty princedom because you are born His son.
Ride straight and fast to take your heritage. Fear no danger. Stop not for flood nor foe. Look not to right nor left. Your Father waits for you.
Ride on. Rest not. Remember you are the son of a King.

44
Good-bye, my baby boy, good-bye; you are gone from us for ever!
What love did you bring with you into the world!
What love did you stir and quicken in your father’s heart.
With what love have I watched you, played with you, tended you in all conditions, at all hours, by day and by night; and who was happier than I!
How many scenes made beautiful by love, and filled with joy unroll before my eyes. Again I see our child of longing, the first born in his first sleep: the young adventurer voyaging from chair to chair: the blue-clad boy among the buttercups seeking to make playmates of the eluding lambs. . . But all this is past. You are gone from us, my baby-boy, and have no being now save in the close warm strong embrace of your mother’s memory and mine.
So must it be.
The bud perishes that the blossom may shed its fragrance, and babyhood yields its place to the larger life of the boy.
And have not you, my little newcomer, my little four-year-old- son, have not you all that the baby who brought you to me had— and how much more. What was all that baby-sweetness of yours which is now gone by save the light you cast before you on your way to me! You too, in your turn, will pass away from me, and the years will ever bring to you change upon change. Deepening happiness awaits you. You will pass from knowledge to knowledge, from strength to strength. And through all the years, you and I, please God, will be the closer friends and comrades because we have loved each other so dearly in the baby-days gone by.

45
While they are at your side, love these little ones to the uttermost. Forget yourself: Serve them; care for them; lavish all your tenderness on them. Value your good fortune while it is with you, and let nothing of the sweetness of their babyhood go unprized. Not for long will you keep the happiness that now lies within your reach. You will not always walk in the sunshine with a little warm, soft hand nestling in each of yours, nor hear little feet pattering beside you, and eager baby voices questioning and prattling of a thousand things with ceaseless excitement. Not always will you see that trusting face upturned to yours, feel those little arms about your neck, and those tender lips pressed upon your cheek, nor will you have that tiny form to kneel beside you, and murmur baby prayers into your ear.
Love them and win their love, and shower on them all the treasures of your heart. Fill up their days with happiness, and share with them their mirth and innocent delights.
Childhood is but for a day. Ere you are aware it will be gone with all its gifts for ever.

46
We are thy teachers because God has appointed us. You are to hear us because God wishes you to do so. He made us your father and mother, because He chose that you should be taught by us.
We provide you with food and clothing and warmth. This is good; but the good of it will not last forever. The truth we teach you is the greatest of all the gifts we have to give you. Nothing else is important compared with this. Truth and the effects of truth last for ever: not only for a little time. The teaching which God has told us to give you will make you more happy than clothes or houses or pleasure or money. People cannot be happy without truth, even on this earth: in the next world we shall be very unhappy without it.
Remember, these teachings are of more value than all else we have to give you. We teach you because we wish to obey God. We teach you not only because we love you very much, but for God’s sake.
To teach you as God would have you taught is not easy. We are not so wise nor so good as we should like to be; nor even so wise and good as we hope soon to become. God himself alone is a perfect teacher. We pray God constantly to help us; and because we so truly wish and strive to please Him He strengthens us with the power and wisdom of His Spirit. Whatever is true in our teaching, and whatever is good and right in it comes not from us, but from God.

47
The greatest benefit which we have to confer on you is: Guidance to God.
When God chose us to be your parents He commanded us to offer you this guidance. Therefore, it is by His will that we give you His Holy Teaching. We speak to you of Him and of His prophets, we surround you continually with thoughts of faith and worship, and we never cease to pray for you. We cannot compel you to learn the lessons which we teach; we would not compel you if we could, for God intends our wills to be free. You must choose for yourself. Your mother and I are trying—as best we may—to follow the leading of that Guidance, and it is our hope and prayer that you will travel with us. We should be very lonely if we had to take one step without you. For this teaching which God has given us to pass on to you is the most precious thing we have to give you: more precious far than food, or clothes or schooling, or even life itself—for this knowledge is ETERNAL life.

48
Fill Thou, O God, our home with harmony and happiness, with laughter and delight, with radiant kindliness and overflowing joy, that in the union of our hearts Thy love may find a lodging place, and Thou Thyself mayst make this home of ours Thine Own!

49
Unto Thee, O God, we dedicate this home. Cleanse it from all that is alien to Thee that it may become fit for Thy acceptance, and may be to friend and stranger as to ourselves a place of peace, a refuge from materialism, a herald of Thy Kingdom.

50
O God, make Thou this home of ours the garden of affection, a ripening place of love, where the hidden powers of our hearts may unfold, expand and bear the fruit of an abiding joy.

51
Glory and honour, praise and thanksgiving be unto Thee for ever from us, and from all mankind!
Thou art the One God, the Boundless, the Eternal, Who in Thy creation hast unveiled Thy Majesty and revealed Thy love.
For our sakes Thou hast called from infinitude this realm of space and moulded it to serve the uses of the soul.
For our sakes Thou hast laid upon eternity the semblance of bonds, and measured Time to us with fingers of gold and silver light.
For our sakes Thou hast brought us forth from the void of nothingness, and on the mirror of our being cast the beauty of Thy Own similitude.

52
Praise be to Thee Who hast called into being Thy worlds of Time and of Eternity to give utterance to Thy love. Thou hast made all things for man and man for his own glory and blessedness (not for Thine!) In his being Thou hast hidden Thy light; on his heart Thou hast printed Thy image. Thou hast placed the knowledge of Thyself and of Thy heaven before his face, and laid the way thereto plain and open at his feet.
Thou hast commanded from the beginning Thy covenant with man to deliver him from mortality and to grant him the freedom of Thy eternal Kingdom.
Age after age Thou hast sent Thy prophets to renew the same, to bear Thy children love-messages from Thee, and to bestow on them new and ever richer gifts.
Praise be to Thee, O God, from us who remember our benefits, who recount our blessings, and Who from our hearts give thanks unto Thee, the Beloved.
Praise be to Thee Who hast granted us birth in this time of wonder, this great age of breaking light!
We have walked in pride before Thee, but Thou hast overcome us by Thy humility.
We have turned from Thy presence, but Thy love has overtaken us, and drawn us home to Thee.
We have earned the wages of sin, but Thou hast brought to us Eternal Life.
Praise be to Thee Whose compassion has overshadowed us, whose forgiveness has descended upon us, Whose mercy has given us life, Whose hand has guided us to the highway of Thy Kingdom, Who chose for Thyself exile and bonds that Thou mightest redeem us.
O Thou Whose holiness and might are above Thy creatures’ praise, accept from us who love and worship Thee this praise we offer.

Video clips here:
http://www.youtube.com/vaezi

More stories coming soon, as I get time to write them up.

Briefly, the highlights are:

• Reviving childhood memories, meeting old friends, seeing the changes of 13 years
• Seeing the progress of the Faith, experiencing community life and the joy of sharing the message
• Being touched by the sacrifices people are making, and their staunchness and heroism

In more detail:

• Douala
• Bamenda, Gillett home
• Bamenda
• Njen
• Buea
• Buea, Sopo Centre
• Buea, Mount Cameroon
• Buea, Dr. Samandari
• Buea, Declaration of the Bab
• Limbe
• Limbe, Lava
• Buea, Naseem
• Food
• Friends and Activities
• Douala, Bushrui home
• Travelling

As David was leaving for an NSA meeting, he quickly scribbled some instructions for how to get to Njen:

Basically, we had to first get to Guzang, a town on the way, and then find “any available transportation” to Njen. We had the phone number for Felix, one of the Bahá’ís in Njen, and also a name in case we got stuck in Guzang.

So we set out on Tuesday morning (12 May), catching a taxi to the Hospital section of Bamenda then looking for transport to Guzang. We found a car, a small hatchback, which we entered - along with 6 other people, 4 in front and 4 in the back - an extremely tight fit.

The road to Guzang was quite pleasant, with lots of greenery and mountaineous regions in the background. Once we got to Guzang, we asked one of the shopkeepers about getting to Njen - he helped us find the right transport, and we thanked him and gave him a Bahá’í pamphlet. When we were heading back to Bamenda we ran into him again and invited him to visit the Bahá’í centre in Bamenda whenever he was in town.

The right transport to Njen, we found out, was a motorbike. And we both got on, the driver, me, then Nabil. Luckily for us, this driver was a pro - he knew the roads like the back of his hand, and we felt quite safe with him. We later found out that he was either from Njen himself, or spent a lot of time there.

The road to Njen, from the moment we left Guzang was untarred. For the first third of the way, it was pretty flat and even, with the usual small bumps and shallow mud puddles. However, we soon saw why the only available transport was with motorbikes - cars could never take this road and survive. It became a steeper downward incline, lots of bends, and the road surface was completely uneven with large rocks and big grooves in the mud. Apparently the road had been cleared a long time ago (of bushes), but they never got around to flattening it. Here’s a video clip of the road, as we were heading down - the steepness of the incline is not apparent:

And a photo of the road, for full effect:

The whole trip from Bamenda took maybe a couple of hours, so we got there before noon. We realized that we had arrived on their “market day”. The way life in the villages around these parts is organized, is to have 7 days of working in the fields then the 8th day is a market day, where everyone brings harvest to a common area in the village and they trade, and where passers by can come to buy. Market day is also the one day when they get to turn on their electricity generator. They use this power to, charge their cellphones, cut hair (using an electric shaver), and of course blast music in the pub for dancing.

We went to the pub when we arrived, and someone managed to get in contact with Felix. Apparently they had been told we would arrive on Monday, and were expecting us, but we never showed up. So Felix had assumed it meant the next monday and gone off to Guzang for the day. He said he would make it back soon, and to wait for him there. We ended up staying in the pub, watching some of the locals drink and dance, till evening. A few people greeted us as they came in, saying they were Bahá’í and one of them even greeted us with Alláh’u’abhá, then proceeded to go in and participate in the activities. We got offered two rounds of Top (an orange soda drink like Fanta) by two different people who befriended us. We also got quite hungry as we hadn’t had any lunch, and spoke fondly of having garri and sugar (also referred to as bachelor’s food).

Around 6pm, when it was starting to get dark, we heard word that Felix was almost back. Then we suddenly heard that there had been an accident, then we heard some details - there was a guy on a motorbike who had slammed into a car (the car had no brake lights and had suddenly braked), this guy was apparently Felix’s brother. We also heard that he had injured his legs… no, he had fractured them… then, another revision, the legs had been completely severed! We also heard that Felix had gone to check up on him.

At this point we were thinking, if his legs were severed he probably wouldn’t make it, and either way if it is Felix’s brother he would have to go and take care of him, accompany him to the hospital, etc. and we didn’t know anyone else here so maybe we should start thinking about heading back. We were assured that there was no need to be hasty, and that Felix will no doubt return soon.

Finally at around 7pm we caught sight of Felix, learnt that the accident hadn’t been that serious (apparently some sort of leg fracture), then started heading to Felix’s home. This in itself was another 15-30min walk, it was dark now and the road quite slippery. We had more than a few close calls slipping, but managed to avoid a complete fall. We arrived at Felix’s compound, with three houses in an arc, his in the middle. His wife was on a trip and so he didn’t have food, but one of his in-laws sent some over - baked bananas (unripe) with fish stew - very delicious. I unconciously started to tarof, but was informed that it is very rude to refuse food. The stew was particularly delicious.

Felix told us a little about the history of the Faith in Njen - apparently they have had Bahá’ís there for more than 25 years, at one point numbering over 30. The chief is also a Bahá’í, and we got to meet him the next day. Felix is a merchant - he travels all over Cameroon selling cola-nuts mainly, he is sometimes away for months at a time. This makes it hard for him to have regular activities, though he did run some children classes recently. He has also been the delegate for his area to the National Convention for 15 years running - he showed us pictures of this years’ convention and shared stories. He commented about how he seemed to be getting out of touch with the new activities of the plan, and we took the opportunity to share with him, in some detail, the sequence of courses and how exciting they were, and how they were being pursued all over the world.

The next morning, we had a meeting with the chief. He was a very nice fellow, quite happy to see us, and quite convinced of his being a Bahá’í - he told us how over the years many times other churches would approach him and he kept insisting, “I am a Bahá’í!”. We also told him about the sequence of courses and he seemed happy at the prospect. We then had a meeting with the other Bahá’ís, some 7 or 8 showed up (the chief is on the far right):

We explained that we were here for a brief visit, to tell them about the current activities in the plan, and offered to organize for volunteers to come to visit them from Bamenda and go through the sequnce of courses with them. We were just here to tell them about it, and determine what time of the year was good for them (between the planting season and the harvest, ideally). Here are the notes Nabil took:

They also asked a couple of questions, which they said people had been asking them - why are there no priests or pastors in the Faith, and what’s up with the succession of authority from Bahá’u’lláh to ‘Abdu’l-Bahá - is it hereditory? We tried to answer them, and I believe Nabil gave a good response. I later learned that these were common questions and many people asked these questions:

We then decided to leave, but first went for a walk around, with Felix showing us their local school (where we bought big avocados and bunches of 8 bananas for 50F each (0.10c US$)). This proved providential as we saw a pickup truck passing by the road and with Felix’s help got seats on it. It took us all the way back to Bamenda for a good price. The drivers switched in Njen, and the new driver seemed to be well known as a runner among the local checkpoint police. They had no patience for him and force a good 500F out of him at every stop. It didn’t help that he had no papers at all with him. He ended up quite broke by the time we reached Bamenda and we had to find change at a local petrol station to pay him.

Some more photos of Njen - Cola-nut tree:

A house in Felix’s compound:

Yam:

Latrine, round the back:

Banana tree:

With Felix’s brother in law and Felix:

Me and Nabil, back at the Gillett home in Bamenda:

I stayed in Bamenda for 9 days.

Here are some photos from Bamenda. Mud on my shoes and jeans:

The Bahá’í centre - side:

Other side:

Back, where some students were studying for their exams:

Plant growing beside it:

We went to visit the house in which my family stayed, when I was born. I have heard many stories about it, of how there was a yard infront of the house which would be filled with sunbathing snakes at noon, though they would retire at other times. Apparently my grandmother who was with us at the time was quite fearless and killed one with a stick. My dad preferred to ignore them. So here’s the infamous house:

There were no snakes out when we visited (3pm). This house, as well as the other one on the hill are owned by the Presbitarian church and two pastors live in them now. The view is quite picturesque, here’s a video:

More pictures of the view:

This is David’s car, which is 24 years old now, but of which I had many memories. It is still going, but on it’s last legs. It is thinking of going into retirement - just a matter of time now. It needed some help here with the fuel pump:

On the way out of Bamenda, on the last day there. Street vendors:

Driving through Nkwen (Bamenda is divided into three main areas, with Nkwen being one of them. The centre and Gillett house are also there):

Round-about, as you head to up-station:

Driving up-hill:

A nice house in up-station somewhere:

On the road - a “call box”. Mobile phones are prevalent everywhere in Cameroon. Everyone seems to own one, even in the villages, in the markets, etc. There are huge roadside posters for the two main companies operating there, Orange and MTN, on every road. You also see small signs on many shops, even in villages, as those shops sell recharge cards. There are also many call boxes, a small stall where someone stands and lets you use their phone, then charges you based on how long your call lasted:

Hills:

Here are some pictures of the house - round the back:

Side:

Other side:

Pumpkin:

Corn:

Beans:

Washing my clothes - which I apparently knew how to do:

Some items of interest, probably only to my sister - water tank:

Matchbox:

Bucket:

Toilet paper:

This is of interest to my friend Navid, I noticed a couple of your dad’s books on their shelf:

And Julius, who has been helping the Gillett family for many years - he now has a wife and three kids (more details in an upcoming post), and declared a few years ago - such a wonderful man:

Everything was pretty straightforward, until we got to the baggage collection area. There is only one exit - the “something to declare”, red doorway. The green “nothing to declare” route is permanently blocked and has some mobile phone sales desk planted infront of it. There were porters everywhere, trying to secure your services. I had been warned about these porters by Sahar, but I forgot to keep change with me - so I tried to refuse all porting aid, to no avail. One ambitious porter managed to grab my bag and made for the exit with me trailing behind. We stopped at the door, where he asked me to pay something for the passage. I kept protesting that I had no change - but finally ended up pulling out an Israeli 50 shekel note, and as I was trying to explain to him what it was the customs officer saw the note in his hand and motioned to him to get moving. Just beyond the exit Reza was waiting for me, so I grabbed my bag from the porter and when I turned around he was gone. I’m not sure what he did with the shekel note, but I hope he didn’t take it to a mosque.

The next morning, after a late breakfast Sima called Manal in Bamenda, who asked “Where’s Lessan? We’re expecting him!”. Realising that I was meant to have travelled to Bamenda that day, we decided to try to make it happen - but it was already 10am. By the time we got ready and to the motor park in Bonaberi, it was 11:30. It was promised that the bus would depart within the next hour, but we finally moved out at 1:45pm. The buses get pretty crammed, with 5 people sitting in a row, but I had a good seat at the front. A girl sat next to me, and it turned out later she didn’t have her ID papers with her so we kept getting stopped at each police/gendarme checkpoint for them to try to coax a bribe out of her, which she was quite adamant she didn’t want to give. We finally arrived in Bamenda around 10pm.

Pictures of the drive to Bonaberi, from the Bushrui’s home. You can see Reza in the front:

Street corner:

Road sign:

The bridge:

When I was really little:

My sister Martha:

At a summer school near Bamenda: Lessan, Martha, Ramin, Vafa:

At our home in Kumbo:

In Nkongsamba, i believe:

In Ngaoundéré:

In Buea:

In Limbé, at the National Centre:

I was born and gew up here - going back for a visit next week. I’ll be arriving in Douala, then staying in Bamenda for the most part:

Will be posting more pics of the trip!

“Verily, I say, fasting is the supreme remedy and the most great healing for the disease of self and passion.”

1. What is the supreme remedy for the disease of self and passion?

2. How do you heal the disease of self and passion?

3. What could be an effect of fasting?

4. Name a spiritual disease.

Can anyone help me decipher it?

The day after, one final visit:

Seventh day:

Eighth day:

Ninth day:

Fourth day of pilgrimage - dawn prayers:

Fifth day of pilgrimage - Akká, of which it is written:

I bring you tidings of a city betwixt two mountains in Syria, in the middle of a meadow, which is called Akka. Verily, he that entereth therein, longing for it and eager to visit it, God will forgive his sins, both of the past and of the future.
…
There are kings and princes in Paradise. The poor of Akka are the kings of Paradise and the princes thereof. A month in Akka is better than a thousand years elsewhere.

Land entrance:

Mosque:

Cat in Akka:

And I’m sure there’s an intended order here; first, off to visit the most holy spot on earth, the Shrine of Bahá’u’lláh in Bahjí, the Holy of Holies, where lies interred, in the words of the Guardian, ‘the holiest dust the earth ever received into its bosom.’

Immediately afterwards, back to Haifa for a special reception by the head of our faith, the Universal House of Justice, that unique institution unparalleled in human history. Humanity has evolved such that, for the first time, it is mature enough to be able to handle a link to the spiritual realm without the aid of a prophet or messenger. The Age of Prophecy is gone, the time of the Kingdom of God on earth is here.

Well, not quite. One last link remains, the Hand of the Cause of God, Dr. Varqa. And yep, third on our list for the third day of pilgrimage.

Photos - one of the pivots of the pilgrim experience, sitting in a bus at the PRC: