Ibrahim, the most learned and pious man of the city, whom everybody held in high esteem, fell on troubled days. He told no one of his sufferings, for he was proud and would have been honour bound to refuse the help which he knew would have been offered to him. His noble wife and five faithful sons suffered in silence, but Ibrahim was sorely troubled when he saw their clothes wearing away to rags and their bodies wasting with hunger.
One day Ibrahim sat to study from the Holy Book, but he could not see the words on the pages. His eyes were dimmed with tears and his thoughts were far away. He was dreaming of a region where hunger and thirst and lack of clothes and shelter were unknown. He sighed loudly and his wife heard.
“My dear husband,” she said to him gently, “we are starving. You must go and look for work for the sake of our children.”
“You are right and I must find a way to ease your pain” he answered, sadly, but how can I go out in these worn clothes? Who will hire a man dressed like this?”
“I will ask our kind neighbors to lend you some clothes and was successful in obtaining the loan of a cloak which completely covered Ibrahim and restored to him his dignified appearance.
His good wife encouraged him with prayers and words. He took his staff and set out with heart filled with a great hope. All people greeted the learned Ibrahim, for it was not often he was seen walking the busy streets of the city. He returned their greetings with kindly smiles, but he did not stop. He had no wish to ask his neighbors for help, who would no doubt have gladly assisted him. He desired to go among strangers and work so that he should not be beholden to anyone.
Beyond the city gates, where the palm trees grew and the camels trudged lazily toward the distant desert, he was suddenly approached by a stranger dressed as an Arab.
“O learned and holy man of the city,” he said, “command me, for I am your slave.” At the same time he made a low bow before Ibrahim.
“My slave!” returned Ibrahim, in surprise. “You make fun of me stranger. I am very poor and I am looking for the opportunity to sell myself, even as a slave, to any man who will provide food and clothing for my wife and children.”
“Do not sell yourself,” said the Arab. “Offer me for sale instead. I am a skillful builder. Look at these plans of my skill and handiwork.”
From beneath the folds of his flowing robes, the Arab produced a scroll and a box and held them out to Ibrahim. On the scroll were drawn designs of stately buildings. Within the box was an beautiful model of a palace, a marvelous piece of work, perfect in every detail and workmanship. Ibrahim examined the scroll and model with great care.
“I have never seen anything so beautiful,” he admitted. ” It is indeed a work of art. You must indeed be a wondrous craftsman. From where do you come?”
“It does not matter” replied the Arab. “I am your slave. Is there not in this city some rich merchant or nobleman who needs the services of such talents as I have? Seek him out and sell me and my services to him. To you they will listen while they will ignore me.”
Ibrahim pondered over this strange request for a while.
“Agreed!” he said, at length.
Together they returned to the city. There Ibrahim asked around the bazaar where the wealthy traders met to discuss their affairs, and soon learned of a wealthy merchant in precious stones, a man known for his kind deeds and charity who was excited to build a very fine home. He called upon the jewel merchant.
“Noble sir,” he said, “I hear that you want to build a palace the like of which this city has never seen, a structure that will be an everlasting joy to its owner, a delight to all who gaze upon it, and which will bring recognition to this city.”
“That is so,” said the merchant. “You have interpreted the desire of my heart as if you had read its deep secrets. I would truly dedicate to the uses of the building as a business center and a center of goodness to bring a good name upon the city.”
“It is well,” returned Ibrahim. “I have brought to you an architect and builder of the highest abilities. Examine his plans and designs. If they please you, as assuredly they will, purchase the man from me, for he is my slave and servant.”
The merchant could not understand the plans on the scroll, but on the model in the box he feasted his eyes for several minutes in speechless amazement.
“It is indeed remarkable,” he said at last. “I will give you eighty thousand gold pieces for your servant and slave, who must build for me just such a palace.”
Ibrahim immediately informed the Arab, who at once consented to perform the task, and then the pious man hurried to return home to his wife and children with the good news and the money, which made him rich for the rest of his days.
To the builder the merchant pledged, “You will gain your freedom if you will succeed in building me a fine home. Begin at once. I will hire craftsmen and the laborers.”
“I need no workmen,” was the Arab’s singular reply. “Take me to the land where where you wish me to build, and tomorrow your palace shall be finished.”
“Tomorrow?”
“Even as I say,” answered the Arab.
The sun was setting in golden glory when they reached the ground, and pointing to the sky the Arab said: “Tomorrow, when the great sun rises above the distant hills, its rays will strike the towers and domes of your palace, noble sir. Leave me now. I must pray.”
The merchant left the stranger and was amazed by the words of the builder. From a distance he watched the man piously praying. He had made up his mind to watch all the night; but when the moon rose, a deep sleep overcame him and he dreamed. He dreamed that he saw many men swarming about the area with strange machines and scaffolding which grew higher and higher, hiding a vast structure.
Ibrahim dreamed, too, but in his vision one figure, that of the Arab, stood out above all other things. Ibrahim scanned the features of the stranger closely; he followed, as it were, the man’s every movement. He noticed how all the workmen and particularly the supervisors greatly honouered and respected the stranger. From heavens a bright light shined on the scene and surrounded the Arab builder.
In his dream, Ibrahim, he rose from his bed, went out into the night, and approached the palace magically rising from the waste ground beyond the city. He walked until he stood beside the Arab builder. One of the chief workmen approached and addressed the stranger–by name!
Then it was Ibrahim understood–and he awoke. The sun was streaming in through the lattice of his bedroom. He sprang from his bed and looked out upon a magnificent spectacle. Beyond the city the sun’s rays were reflected by a dazzling array of gilded domes and shining towers of marble that he had seen built in his dream. He went out and quickly went to the palace he had seen in his dream. Ibrahim and the wealthy merchant arrived before the gates at the same moment. They stood speechless with amazement and admiration before the model of the Arab grown to immense proportions.
Almost at the same moment, the gates, ornamented with beaten gold, opened and the Arab builder stood before them. Ibrahim bent his head in respect.
The Arab builder addressed the merchant. “Have I fulfilled my promise and earned my freedom?” he asked.
“That you have,” answered the merchant.
“Then farewell, and may blessings rest on you and the good Ibrahim and on all your works.”
In this way spoke the Arab builder blessed them. Then he disappeared within the golden doors.
The wealthy merchant and Ibrahim followed quickly, but though they went through the halls and corridors of many colored marbles, in and out of rooms lighted by windows of clearest crystal, and up and down staircases of burnished metal, they could find no one. As they left the palace, they saw a huge crowd standing outside the gates.
“Tell me,” asked the wealthy merchant, “who was the builder of this magic palace.”
“Eliyahu ha Novi (Elijah, the Prophet),” said Ibrahim, “the benefactor of mankind, who revisits the earth to assist in their distress those deemed worthy. Blessed am I, and blessed are you for your good deeds, for we have been truly honored.”
To show his gratitude, the merchant gave a banquet in his palace to all the people in the city and scattered gold and silver pieces among the crowds that filled the streets.
May all your tales end with Shalom (peace)
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