Story No. 3

I heard of a dervish who was burning in the fire of poverty, stitching patch after patch onto his worn cloak, and to calm his wretched heart he kept saying: Let us make do with dry bread and a patched garment, for bearing the weight of our own hardship is better than bearing the weight of people's favors. Someone said to him: Why do you just sit here? A certain man in this city has a generous nature and a wide-reaching kindness. He has girded himself to serve free souls and has taken a seat at the door of every heart. If he learns of your true condition as it really is, he will consider caring for a worthy person a privilege and count it a blessing. The dervish said: Be quiet! Dying in obscurity is better than carrying your need to another man's door. Better to keep stitching patches and hold to the corner of patience than to write a begging note to the great just for a robe. Truly, it is equal to the torment of hell: to enter paradise on the crutch of a neighbor's help.