[Ṣāliḥ:] One day I came home and heard that my father had sent for me the day before. When I found him, he said, “There was someone here yesterday I wanted you to meet. It was around noon; I was sitting here and I heard a man at the door.

Somehow I felt drawn to him. I got up and opened the door. Standing there was a sunburned man wearing a cloak of fur and a ragged piece of cloth on his head. He had no shirt on under the cloak, and he wasn’t carrying a leather water bottle or a staff. I invited him in and he came into the anteroom. 18.1

“‘Where are you coming from?’ I asked.

“‘From the east,’ he said, ‘and I’m heading for the coast. If not for you, I wouldn’t have come into the city, but I wanted to pay my respects.’ “‘Do you travel dressed like that?’ “‘I do.’ Then he asked me: ‘What do you understand by renunciation of the world?’ “‘Not taking anything for granted,’ I answered, surprised.

“Then I thought to myself, ‘I have no silver or gold to give him.’ So I went into the house, found four loaves of bread, and brought them out.

“‘I have no silver or gold,’ I told him, ‘but this is what I eat.’ “‘Would it make you happy if I took them?’ “‘Yes,’ I said. So he took them and put them under his arm and said, ‘I think now I’ll have enough food to get me TO al-Raqqah. Good-bye!’ “I couldn’t stop staring at him until he left the house.” Afterward my father spoke of him often.

[Ibn Sāfirī:] When we were young, we used to pray and practice austerities at the Perfumer’s Mosque. Some of us would weave palm fibers, others would make spindles, and so on. One member of the group was a strapping young man who told us this story. “We used to fish around Dujayl,” he said. “One day, as it was getting dark, a man dressed in rags walked by. I ran after him but couldn’t catch him. So I called him over. 18.2