In a little Persian town named Yazd, in a simple house on a
narrow street, lived a man named Abbas. Every day, when it was time for his
prayers, Abbas would go into his small garden, spread his rug, and offer thanks
to Baha'u'llah for all his blessings.
For Abbas believed he had received many blessings. He had a
fine house, though small, a good wife, a fine son, and a lovely daughter.
What's more, Abbas had gifted hands. He was a carpenter and woodwright and,
after he saw a chest or table or chair in his mind's eye, he could transform a
pile of rough lumber into miracles. Every chair wrought by his hands was sought
after by his neighbors and customers, tor it was sure to be sturdy, smooth as
silk, and best of all, comfortable. Though he was not a rich man, Abbas'
neighbors counted him as wealthy for the beautiful pieces of furniture, wrought
by his own hand and carved with flowers and birds, even inlaid with mosaic made
of ivory and teak, which filled his home. His work was truly his worship, for
Abbas sought to glorify his Creator with each piece of furniture, and each
chair or cabinet was like one of his own children, born of his love for the
potential in the wood.
Abbas was a thrifty man, and he was steadily increasing his
savings. Every payment he received for his work, he divided in three - one part
for his family's needs, one part for God, and one part for his savings. His
savings were there to protect against illness or misfortune and, if God was
gracious, would someday be enough for him to make a pilgrimage to the Shrines
of the Báb and Bahá'u’lláh in the Holy Land. This was Abbas' most heartfelt
wish - to be able to make that journey with his wife and children.
