The Compassionate Man and the Little Girl
A hint of his great humanity and mercifulness
There was a knock at the door… and Ahmed entered.
’Welcome Ahmed! Come in and sit down, my son. With extreme mercy, tenderness and cheerfulness, issuing from his merciful heart and which appeared on his noble countenance to revive and irrigate thirsty hearts, the venerable scholar welcomed his disciple who was still young at this time. It was the first day of Bairam .[30]
‘What’s wrong Ahmed? You look sad… what happened? Tell me my son! Do you have a problem?’
At this, the good-hearted boy gave a long, tremulous sigh, and with innocent tears streaming from his eyes, he struggled to explain the situation, saying, ‘I don’t know... what can I say…? It was such a heart-breaking sight and it has upset me deeply. On the way to your house sir, I saw a funeral procession coming out of a house in al-Jisr al-Abiadd (an area of Damascus). People were walking behind the coffin followed by a little girl crying and calling her dead father saying, ‘Oh Daddy! Who will give me the gift this festival?’ And then the mourners told her to go back home.’
Ahmed continued to describe what he had seen and heard which had painfully affected his heart, while the tears of the compassionate and venerable scholar began to fall from his gentle eyes, glistening like jewels on his pure cheeks, as abundant streams of Godly Mercy flowed from his pure heart to overwhelm all who were present.
A short time had passed when M. Amin said, ‘Enough… my son! You have broken my heart… for God’s Sake, please.... enough! Come on… hurry up and take me to the house where you saw the funeral leaving.’
Immediately, the scholar with his great merciful heart stood up and, accompanied by Ahmed, walked quickly till they arrived the house.
When the merciful master knocked at the door a little girl, about six years old, came out with her older brother… she was the daughter of the man who had passed away… the very same girl who had wept so desperately for her father.
The merciful master, M. Amin, looked at her with eyes full of compassion and sympathy which overflowed to soothe the child’s grief… then he took a bag of money from his pocket, and gave it to her brother, saying, ‘My son, take this… give it to your little sister and tell her that her father sent this money as a festival gift for her.’