I was in Diarbekr, the guest of an old man, who possessed abundant wealth and a beautiful son. One night he narrated to me that he had all his life no other son but this boy, telling me that in the locality people resorted to a certain tree in a valley to offer petitions and that he had during many nights prayed at the foot of the said tree, till the Almighty granted him this son. I overheard the boy whispering to his companion: ‘How good it would be if I knew where that tree is that I might pray for my father to die.’ Moral: The gentleman is delighted that his son is intelligent and the boy complains that his father is a dotard.
Years elapse without thy visiting The tomb of thy father. What good hast thou done to him To expect the same from thy son?
