The Chosen Highway/The Bride of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá

The Chosen Highway by Lady Blomfield

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[Page 84]

The Bride of ‘Abdu’l-Bahá

Munírih Khánum, having spoken of some of the incidents, aspects, and sufferings of the Master's life before she met Him, now said:

When I was a young girl, I loved to think over the lives of the Holy Ones, the Lord Christ, Muḥammad, and the other prophets of God. I used to weep and lament that I had not lived in their time.

My father went to Baghdád to visit Bahá’u’lláh when I was about nine years old.

I became aware that my parents were enthralled with their devotion to a new and secret religion. I used to meditate on what it could be, indeed I grew to have some suspicion in my mind regarding it, and to have even a little fear of its importance as I watched its effect upon my dear ones.

Once a dream came to me, of which, even now, I retain the impression.

In my dream, I carried many things in my arms; wearily I walked, dragging my feet across the endless desolation of desert sand. My strength seemed to be ebbing away, and my burden too heavy to hold. I was, oh! so tired, almost unable to walk one more step, when suddenly, to my surprise, I came to two rivers. A bridge connected these two rivers. Leaning against the wall of this bridge, I saw in my dream one of the disciples, an old Siyyid. He came forward to me and asked:

"What dost thou want? Where dost thou wish to go?"

I replied earnestly:

"I desire greatly to go to the blessed cities of Jerusalem-Love and Bahá."

The Siyyid said solemnly:

"Carrying those things that burden thee, thou canst not journey to those cities, neither canst thou enter therein. First [Page 85]

THE BRIDE OF ‘ABDU’L-BAHÁ

cast away thy burden, then shalt thou have strength and power to attain thy desire."

Instantly I let fall all the things of my burden.

The old Siyyid thereupon, looking approvingly, took me by the arm and plunged me into the rivers, first into the one, then into the other. When I emerged I suddenly found myself flying without effort, as it were floating, over amazingly beautiful country. I was awe-struck at its sacred loveliness, as of Paradise.

During my flight, my joy was so overwhelming as to seem a celestial gladness.

I arrived at a radiant city of shining glory. On its walls were written in Arabic in letters of brilliant light:

"LOVE. BAHÁ. JERUSALEM. JERUSALEM. LOVE. BAHÁ. BAHÁ. JERUSALEM. LOVE."

In the great Temple of this city were all the Holy Ones, the Prophets of God, in Whose presence I had so ardently longed to stand—His Holiness the Lord Christ, Moses, Isaiah, and every other Prophet of Whom I knew.

At one altar was Muhammad; He gave to me a radiant necklace of diamonds. This I handed to my mother, and, trying again to fly, I awoke!

It seemed that this golden dream had come in answer to my eager wishes and prayers.

I remember when I was a girl the news came to Isfahan from Nabíl that Jamál-i-Mubárak was imprisoned in the fortress town of ‘Akká, shut in behind iron doors, never going out!

As I thought of Him in that poisonous climate—He Who loved the seas, the hills, and the plains, gardens, flowers, and quick movement in the open air—my heart seemed broken, and I shut myself into my room alone, that I might weep rivers of tears.

And now came the never-to-be-forgotten day, when Shaykh Salmán arrived at Isfahán, bringing word from Bahá’u’lláh that He wished me to come to Him.

I was beside myself with joy, that I should, whilst I lived, see my Lord! Even though the journey should be full of difficulty and danger, of suffering indescribable, of risks uncountable, [Page 86] none of these considerations weighed anything in the balance against the gladness of starting on a pilgrimage, with my face steadfastly set towards the presence of the Holy One. Accordingly, I set forth with my brother and Shaykh Salmán on the journey from Isfahán to ‘Akká.

Extreme caution was necessary—we refrained from intercourse with any of the friends—especially we took care that, not through any word or action of ours, should it become known that the two devoted brothers, Mírzá Hasan and Mírzá Husayn of Isfahán, were Bábís. These two dear first cousins of mine were always of great help to any of the friends who were in trouble, but that aid was necessarily given in strict secrecy, so terrible was the danger to property, limb, and life incurred by any, upon whom the suspicion of being a Bábí might fall.

These two brothers were the first to send material help to the exiles at ‘Akká, and the friends, sojourning at Mosul, were rescued from sheer starvation by supplies of corn and money, promptly despatched to them by these generous disciples.

The tragedy of their martyrdom in 1878, when they were given the glorious names of "King of the Martyrs" and "Beloved of the Martyrs," was indeed a work of evil, by base hands wrought; truly one of the "dark deeds without a name."

Shaykh Salmán had brought directions from Bahá’u’lláh for our journey.

We gave out that we were going to Mecca.

On our return from the holy shrine, we were directed to stay at Jiddah until all the twenty Bábís who had accompanied us had gone back to their homes, having accomplished the pilgrimage to Mecca; none of them being permitted, because of the perilous conditions, to proceed to ‘Akká.

We waited at Jiddah, exercising the greatest circumspection; extreme danger surrounded all.

Bahá’u’lláh was in strictest confinement.

We had grown accustomed to looking into the face of sudden death and numberless other perils, with the fortitude inspired by our gladness and heart of grace; for were we not pilgrims, [Page 87] making our way to the presence of our beloved Lord at His own express command?

At length we left Jiddah; my brother and myself, Shaykh Salmán, and one servant, such was the little party of four who were permitted to make this pilgrimage to ‘Akká.

To describe all the incidents of that memorable journey would be to fill a great book.

My wonderful stay at Shíráz—my precious friendship with Khadijih Khánum, that gentle, sorrow-stricken lady, the widow of the Supreme Báb—all this you know.

Always exercising the greatest discretion we proceeded on our way. We embarked at Alexandria for ‘Akká; a telegram came:

"Do not land until fetched."

Nobody came!

We thought that our boat would depart with us still on board. At the last moment we saw a small boat coming swiftly towards us. "Shaykh Salmán, Shaykh Salmán"! We heard the cry; our joyful hearts were singing glad songs as we climbed down into the tiny skiff.

And we had arrived at ‘Akká.

Permission to enter the city was obtained in this way. ‘Abbúd, a Christian merchant, landlord of the "little house," as it came to be called, where Bahá’u’lláh and His family were then living, had stated that he expected some friends to visit him. As his friends we entered ‘Akká, and went straightway to his house.

The room prepared for me was that of which the door was eventually opened into the "little house." This room was to become my bridal chamber, my nursery night and day, my sitting-room, my all! Glorious was my happiness! I am living it all over again in telling it to you, dear Ladyee, now.

In a few days I went to stay at the house of Mírzá Músá, the brother of Bahá’u’lláh; here I remained for six months.

My brother and I used to stand at a window and watch ‘Abbás Effendi swimming; such a strong and graceful swimmer.

Every afternoon about five o'clock the wife of Mírzá Músá [Page 88] would go with me to visit Bahá’u’lláh. I cannot describe the wonder and gladness and happiness of being in His presence. My soul was wrapt in an ecstasy of utter joy, and seemed to float in a celestial atmosphere of peace and loving-kindness. Many beautiful daughters were offered from time to time by parents anxious that their child should have the honour of becoming the wife of the Master. He refused to consider any of them, until I arrived; we met each other once, and our marriage was arranged.

There was a delay because there was no room available in the "little house."

Now ‘Abbúd, the landlord of the "little house," and of the larger one next to it, had become devoted to the Master, in whom he recognized qualities like unto those of the Lord Christ. One day he asked to be received by Bahá’u’lláh, to Whom he said:

"Wherefore the delay in the marriage?"

Being told the reason, he exclaimed:

"I can arrange about the room. I pray Thee, let me have the honour of preparing a place for the Master and His bride."

He hastened to have the door opened through into an extra room, which he furnished simply and comfortably.

"The room is now ready, O Master."

The next day, Bahá’u’lláh asked Khánum, His daughter, not to let their visitor (Munírih Khánum) return to her abode. Khánum brought a dainty white frock (which Asíyih Khánum and she had made for me of white batiste) and put it on to me, with a fresh white niqáb (head-dress) on my head—and I was adorned for my wedding.

The guests were few, Asíyih Khánum, Bahíyyih Khánum, the wife of ‘Abbúd, her three daughters (one of these wished to dress my hair more elaborately than usual, but I preferred to leave it in its two plaits), and the wife of Mírzá Músá.

Bahá’u’lláh spoke wonderful words to me:

"Oh Munírih! Oh my Leaf! I have destined you for the wife of My Greatest Branch. This is the bounty of God to you. In earth or in heaven there is no greater gift. Many have come, but We have rejected them and chosen you. Oh Muníríh! Be worthy of Him, and of Our generosity to you." [Page 89]

THE BRIDE OF ‘ABDU’L-BAHÁ

If I were to try to describe my elation, my ecstasy of joy, "Mathnavi would become seventy volumes" (Persian proverb; "Mathnaví," a book of poems).

Oh that this hour had been everlasting!

Bahá’u’lláh had previously revealed a Tablet for us, which the guests wished me to chant to them.

"When the gates of the sacred garden are set open, and the holy youth issues forth, verily he hath come with a Message of great import.

"Glad tidings! Glad tidings!

"This is that holy youth who hath come, bringing the Message of great joy."

(In Persian this is remarkably beautiful, and the guests were deeply touched by the poetry of the language, chanted by the lovely voice of Munírih Khánum.)

Bahá’u’lláh had said to the Master:

"Come back early this afternoon, the wedding must take place to-day."

Bahá’u’lláh chanted the prayers.

Oh the spiritual happiness which enfolded us! It cannot be described in earthly words.

The chanting ended, the guests left us. I was the wife of my Beloved. How wonderful and noble He was in His beauty.

I adored Him. I recognized His greatness, and thanked God for bringing me to Him.

It is impossible to put into words the delight of being with the Master; I seemed to be in a glorious realm of sacred happiness whilst in His company.

You have known Him in His later years, but then, in the youth of His beauty and manly vigour, with His unfailing love, His kindness, His cheerfulness, His sense of humour, His untiring consideration for everybody, He was marvellous, without equal, surely in all the earth!

At the wedding there was no cake, only cups of tea; there were no decorations, and no choir, but the blessing of Jamál-i-Mubárak; the glory and beauty of love and happiness were beyond and above all luxury and ceremony and circumstance.

For fifty years my Beloved and I were together. Never were [Page 90] we separated, save during His visits to Egypt, Europe, and America.

O my Beloved husband and my Lord! How shall I speak of Him?

You, who have known Him, can imagine what my fifty years have been—how they fled by in an atmosphere of love and joy and the perfection of that Peace which passeth all understanding, in the radiant light of which I await the day when I shall be called to join Him, in the celestial garden of transfiguration.

Five of my children died in the poisonous climate of ‘Akká. The bad air was, in truth, only the outside material reason. The inner spiritual reason was that no son of the Master should grow into manhood.

When my darling little son Husayn passed away, Bahá’u’lláh wrote the following:

"The knowledge of the reason why your sweet baby has been called back is in the mind of God, and will be manifested in His own good time. To the prophets of God the present and the future are as one."

Therefore I understand how that wisdom has ordained the uniting of the two families, that of Bahá’u’lláh and of the Báb, in the person of Shoghi Effendi, eldest son of our daughter, Diyáíyyih Khánum, by her marriage with Aqá Mírzá Hádí Afnán.

I have been writing to the friends in Persia:

"You are longing to meet us, we are longing to meet you; what is the wisdom in our separation?"

Let us understand that if Bahá’u’lláh had not been exiled to Baghdad, Constantinople, Adrianople, and ‘Akká, the Divine Message could not have been so quickly spread, and the prophecies in the Holy Books would not have been fulfilled.