Just before sunset the warden arrived carrying a load of sacks. He apologized profusely for disturbing me.
"My master," he said hesitantly, "here are your purses; I'm returning them to you now. These other sacks are gifts from that foreign shaykh. He brought them yesterday morning and asked me to give them to you."
I sat the man down, anxious to calm any worries he might have. "Is that all there is to it, Yasir?" I asked.
"My lord, the rest of it's even better!"
"Fine, so tell me, then you can relax!"
"That man from Khurasan told me how you had saved his daughter with God's permission. He translated for me the Persian phrase she kept repeating in your presence. She wanted more of your breath so she could fully recover and be completely well. A few people have been talking to me about you; they look on you as a saint who can perform wondrous deeds. I see now that they're right. However I'll keep on turning them away so long as you don't give me other instructions."
I asked for God's forgiveness. "Yasir," I told him, "you can tell such people that I used medical methods to cure that Khurasani girl. There was nothing miraculous about it. And please give those sacks to charities in Mecca. That's a much better idea!"
"You speak the truth indeed! I'll provide you with details of their dispensation as soon as possible."
"Is there anything else?"
"Master, I shouldn't be keeping your purses. There's a hole under your bed where you can keep them safe."
Taking back the purses, I said a fond farewell to him at the door.
10
DURING THE FIRST SIX MONTHS of the following year I divided my time between visits to the sacred enclosure of the Ka`ba and the library of the Maliki residence and familiarizing myself with the buildings and monuments of Mecca and the surrounding desert. Whenever time allowed, I liked to climb the mountains that surrounded the city: Mount Abu Qubays, and specifically Mount Hira' and Mount Thawr.* Scrambling up these mountains became a form of physical exercise that allowed me to check on my pulse and breathing, and therefrom my ability to withstand hardship. One mountain was actually called Mount Thawr [Bull] because, as the saying put it, only a bull could climb it. When I reached the top, I paused for a while to look out over Mina and the southern part of Mecca. After that I was delighted to be able to go into the blessed cave up there and spend as much time as God permitted, seeking the boon of the noble Prophet who had spent time there and hoping to inspire a downpouring of mystic illumination. I used to do the same thing in the Hira' Cave,* which had its own blessed associations.
As the old saying puts it, be alive during Rajab and you'll witness something wonderful!
By now I had been staying in Mecca for three years. Could there have been a more peculiar story than the one about the Egyptian lady who was residing near the sacred shrine? The warden of the Muwaffaq hostel came rushing over to ask me to come to her residence; she was extremely weak and was having trouble breathing. Once I had checked on the condition of the patient, who was lying on her bed, I discovered that she did indeed show some alarming signs: emaciation, pallor, and a sickly appearance. Her chest was heaving up and down, and the choking sounds coming out of her mouth sounded for all the world like a death rattle. I told the warden to bring a bowl, water, and herbs. No sooner had he left that she opened her watery eyes, pointed to my mouth and hers, and indicated that what she needed was mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. After a moment's pause I did as she asked, but I stopped as soon as the warden came back with the things I had requested. I prepared a potion whose formula I knew and boiled it in hot water. I gave it to her to swallow slowly. A few moments later I was on the point of leaving, but watched as the woman sat up and gave me a warm smile. She told me she was hungry. The warden was amazed and delighted. "A miracle, by God," he said as he went out, "a veritable miracle!" I stayed and sat by her side, but the only communication we had was through our eyes. Once the man had come back with a tray of food, I departed, pursued by the warden's praises to God and the patient's glances.
What was so amazing was not the events that I have just described, but rather what she confided in me when I responded to her request and went back to check on her condition. Her face was radiant, and she looked in every way restored to health. I sat with her in a shady garden while the warden went back and forth offering his services.
"Good Sir," she told me in a muted tone, "I have been residing here in Mecca for more than a year now. My only guardian and helper is God Almighty. My family is in Egypt; some of them, my father and husband, are now dead, while others are in the waiting mode. I noticed you performing your first minor pilgrimage ritual; I was among the women who touched and kissed your hand. On the second occasion I was lucky enough to be the only woman who did so. Watching you performing the circumambulation on both occasions, I admired your appearance and was overwhelmed by your dignity. But there is no cause for alarm or concern. After all, the very model for all Muslims, men and women, the Lord of creation and the prophets has said, `While circumambulating the Ka`ba, I happened to see a woman whose appearance pleased me.' Beyond that, I saw with my own eyes the way you rescued that girl from Khurasan and restored her to life through your own pure breaths and the assistance of God Almighty."
She now paused for a moment, as though she were making ready to tell me something momentous. I too remained silent, unable to decide the best way of responding to her remarkable story. However, what she went on to say only increased my feelings of uncertainty and bafflement.
"Good Sir," she told me, her eyes closed and her cheeks blushing, "I am in love with you through God. All I ask in my loneliness is that you keep me company to the extent that you wish and guide me along the path of righteous Sufi belief. My dearest wish is that you should accept me as a disciple, one who will be obedient and cause no problems. I faked my illness so that I could get to see you and share my devotion and thoughts with you. Is God prepared to renounce one who seeks access to Him through one of His holy men? 0 Lord, if I have committed a terrible sin, then You are generous in understanding and forgiveness. So there it is. You have been my goal all along, and you are the arbiter. So please tell me what you think, or else reflect on it for a while and then get back in touch with me in whatever way you see fit."
How was I supposed to respond to this woman, when my mind was churning in sheer amazement?
"Handmaid of God," I stammered in reply, "I will certainly have to think about your request. If it takes me a while to respond, then it will be because of some impediment that God alone will be able to remove."
I asked her permission to leave, then said my farewells and departed.
Almost three months went by following this amazing and baffling conversation. During that time I only met a few people and debated issues with them. I also performed my third minor pilgrimage. As I circumambulated the Ka`ba and ran between Safa and Marwa, my mind was completely focused on the One Existent. I was assessing my own inevitable attraction toward his illumination through the Unity of the Absolute Existent. After that I took advantage of the final ten days of Ramadan to isolate myself, spending part of the time in my house and part in the all-blessed Hira' Cave.