The Debtor Sheikh

Sheikh Ahmad was continually in debt. 
He borrowed great sums from the wealthy 
and gave it out to the poor dervishes of the world. 
He built a sufi monastery by borrowing,
and God was always paying his debts, turning sand 
into flour for this generous friend.

The Prophet said that there were always two angels 
praying in the market. One said, “Lord,
give the poor wanderer help.” The other, "Lord, 
give the miser a poison." Especially loud
is the former prayer when the wanderer is a prodigal 
like Sheikh Ahmad, the debtor sheikh.

For years, until his death, he scattered seed profusely. 
Even very near his death, with the signs of death clear, 
he sat surrounded by creditors. The creditors in a circle, 
and the great sheikh in the center gently melting 
into himself like a candle.

The creditors were so sour-faced with worry 
that they could hardly breathe.

"Look at these despairing men,” thought the sheikh.
"Do they think God does not have four hundred gold dinars?" 
Just at that moment a boy outside called,
                                                             "Halvah, a sixth
of a dirhem for a piece! Fresh halvah!”
                                                        Sheikh Ahmad,
with a nod of his head, directed the famulus 
to go and buy the whole tray of halvah. 

"Maybe if these creditors eat a little sweetness, 
they won't look so bitterly on me."

The servant went to the boy, “How much for the whole lump 
of halvah?"
                 "Half a dinar, and some change."

"Don't ask too much from sufis, my son. 
Half a dinar is enough."

The boy handed over the tray, and the servant brought 
it to the sheikh, who passed it among his creditor guests.
"Please, eat, and be happy."

The tray was quickly emptied, and the boy asked the sheikh 
for his half a gold dinar.

"Where would I find such money? These men can tell you 
how in debt I am, and besides, I am fast on my way
into non-existence."
                              The boy threw the tray on the floor
and started weeping loud and yelling,
                                                       "I wish
I had broken my legs before I came in here!
I wish 
I'd stayed in the bathhouse today. You gluttonous, 
plate-licking sufis, washing your faces like cats!"

A crowd gathered. The boy continued, “O sheikh, 
my master will beat me if I come back without anything."

The creditors joined in, “How could you do this? 
You've devoured our properties, and now you add this 
one last debt before you die.
                                          Why?"

The sheikh closes his eyes and does not answer. 
The boy weeps until afternoon prayers. The sheikh 
withdraws underneath his coverlet,
                                                   pleased with everything,
pleased with eternity, pleased with death,
                                                             and totally
unconcerned with all the reviling talk around him.

On a bright-moon night, do you think the moon, 
cruising through the tenth house, can hear the dogs barking 
down here?
                  But the dogs are doing what they're supposed to do. 
Water does not lose its purity because of a bit of weed 
floating in it.
                   That king drinks wine on the riverbank 
until dawn, listening to the water music, not hearing 
the frog talk.
                    The money due the boy would have been
just a few pennies from each of his creditors, but the sheikh's
spiritual power prevents that from happening.
No one gives the boy anything.

At afternoon prayers a servant comes with a tray 
from Hatim, a friend of Ahmad's, and a man 
of great property. A covered tray.

The sheikh uncovers the face of the tray, and on it 
there are four hundred gold d:nars, and in one corner, 
another half a dinar wrapped in a piece of paper.

Immediately the cries of abasement, “O king of sheikhs, 
lord of the lords of mystery! Forgive us.
We were bumbling and crazed. We were knocking lamps over.
We were . . . "
                      "It's all right. You will not be held
responsible for what you've said or done. The secret here 
is that I asked God and the way was shown
that until the boy's weeping, God's merciful generosity 
was not loosened.
                           Let the boy be like the pupil of your eye.
If you want to wear a robe of spiritual sovereignty, 
let your eyes weep with the wanting."