Memorials of the Faithful

In Iṣfahán he had enjoyed every comfort, and the world was good to him. Now his yearning for Bahá’u’lláh freed him from all other bonds. He passed over the long miles, suffered intense hardships, exchanged a palace for a prison, and in the ‘Akká fortress assisted the believers and attended upon and served Bahá’u’lláh. He who had been waited upon, now waited on others; he who had been the master was now the servant, he who had once been a leader was now a captive. He had no rest, no leisure, day or night. To the travelers he was a trusted refuge; to the settlers, a companion without peer. He served beyond his strength, for he was filled with love of the friends. The travelers were devoted to him, and the settlers grateful. And because he was continuously busy, he kept silent at all times.

Then the Supreme Affliction came upon us and the absence of Bahá’u’lláh was not to be endured. Mírzá Muḥammad could not stay quiet, day or night. He wasted away, like a candle burning down; from the fiery anguish, his liver and heart were inflamed, and his body could bear no more. He wept and supplicated day and night, yearning to soar away to that undiscovered country. “Lord, free me, free me from this absence,” he would cry, “let me drink of reunion’s cup, find me a lodging in the shelter of Thy mercy, Lord of Lords!”

At last he quit this dust heap, the earth, and took his flight to the world that has no end. May it do him good, that cup brimming with the grace of God, may he eat with healthy relish of that food which gives life to heart and soul. May God lead him to that happy journey’s end and grant him an abundant share in the gifts which shall then be bestowed.1