The Strange Hospitality

This story is reported from Imam Muhammad Ibn Idrîs Ash-Shâfiʿî.

In this account, the imam himself tells an astonishing experience that happened to him during a journey to Yemen.

One day, I set out for Yemen with a very specific goal.

Let us listen to his story:

I wanted to search for certain ancient books in which their authors had gathered observations about men, about certain visible signs, and about the behaviors they thought they could associate with them.

That is to say, children, that in these books, authors observed certain visible details in people, for example the eyes, the forehead, the face, the beard, or other physical characteristics, and then they noted the behaviors they thought they could associate with them.

I wanted to know what these books contained.

So I searched for them, I copied them, and I gathered them, until I had collected what I had come for.

Then, when my work was finished, I took the road again with these books.

I had devoted time to searching for them and studying them, and I now thought I knew what their authors had observed.

But on the way back, an encounter would seriously make me doubt all of that.

I passed by a man sitting in front of his house and, observing him, I noticed several characteristics that matched one of the most unfavorable descriptions I had studied in these books.

According to what I had just learned, I could therefore expect to meet a man with unpleasant behavior.

Yet, I did not know him yet.

I simply asked him:

— Is there a place to stay?

He replied:

— Yes.

Then he welcomed me into his home.

And very quickly, something began not to match at all what I had studied.

This man did not just leave me a place to spend the night.

He had food brought to me, then perfume.

He also had food brought for my mount, and he put at my disposal a bed as well as a blanket.

The more time passed, the more his welcome surprised me.

I had asked for almost nothing, and yet he took care of my meal, my mount, and my rest with great generosity.

Now, before even speaking to him, what I had studied in my books had led me to expect something entirely different from him.

So I began to think seriously about what I had just learned during my journey.

I had searched for these books.

I had copied them.

I had gathered them.

And now, a man who matched one of their most unfavorable descriptions behaved with me in a completely opposite way.

When it was time to sleep, I lay down.

But this matter continued to occupy me.

“I spent the entire night tossing and turning, wondering what I was going to do with these books.”

I did not want to ignore what I was seeing simply because it did not match what I had studied.

The facts were before me.

This man had welcomed me.

He had fed me.

He had taken care of my mount.

He had prepared a bed for me.

He had given me a blanket.

And his behavior seemed to contradict everything I had thought I understood by observing him.

Then an idea finally came to me:

“I am going to throw these books away.”

Perhaps I had been mistaken in giving them so much importance.

Perhaps all the time spent searching for them and copying them had been useless.

I nevertheless ended up waiting for the morning.

When the day arrived, I called my servant:

— Prepare the mount.

He began to prepare our departure.

So I was getting ready to leave this man who had welcomed me so generously.

Before resuming my journey, I simply wanted to show him my gratitude.

I thought the story was over.

In reality, I had only seen the first half of it.

He had given me food, had perfume brought, had fed my mount, and had prepared a bed with a blanket for me.

Because of that, I had spent a large part of the night thinking about the books I had brought back from Yemen.

Everything I had observed seemed to prove them wrong.

I had even considered getting rid of them.

Now, I had to leave.

But before leaving my host, I wanted to show him that I did not forget what he had done for me.

So I indicated to him how to find me if he ever came to Mecca:

— When you arrive in Mecca and you pass by Dhû Tuwâ, ask where the house of Muhammad Ibn Idrîs Ash-Shâfiʿî is.

I thought thus to open my own house to him after having benefited from his.

But his response was strange.

He asked me:

— Am I then the servant of your father?

I replied:

— No.

Then he continued:

— Did you have something owed to you at my place?

I replied again:

— No.

Then he asked me:

— And everything I spent on you last night?

I understood that the conversation had suddenly taken a direction I had not imagined.

I asked him what he meant.

And he began to do the accounts.

Everything had a price

He started with the food.

Then he added what had accompanied the meal.

Then he counted the perfume.

Then the food given to my mount.

Then also the bed and the blanket I had used during the night.

Everything that had seemed to me to be offered generously the previous day now received a price.

I did not start to argue.

I turned to my servant and said to him:

— Give him.

My servant gave him what he demanded.

The food was paid.

The perfume was paid.

The food for the mount was paid.

The bed and the blanket were paid.

I then thought the account was finished.

I asked:

— Is there anything left?

He replied:

— Yes.

There was still something left.

He also wanted to be paid for the place where I had slept.

Then he explained:

— I gave you space and I made myself cramped.

That is to say, children, that he even demanded money for the space he had left in his house during the night.

I paid what he asked.

Then I asked him one last time:

— Is there anything left?

This time, he no longer demanded money.

But he said to me:

— Go away! May Allah humiliate you! I have never seen anyone worse than you!

After having counted the food, the perfume, the food for my mount, the bed, the blanket, and even the space in the house, he now ended our encounter with these words.

And it was then that I thought again about the books I had wanted to throw away during the night.

The previous day, when this man had welcomed me with such generosity, I had thought that everything I had studied was perhaps worthless.

I had observed his behavior and I had been ready to change my mind.

But I did not yet know the whole story.

What had appeared to me as hospitality offered without expecting anything in return had transformed, the next morning, into a long list of expenses to reimburse.

The previous day, I thought I had understood this man.

In the morning, new information had appeared.

And my understanding of the situation had completely changed.

It was at that moment that I was satisfied to have kept the books I had brought back from Yemen.

But there is an important thing to understand, children.

This story does not teach us to judge a person simply by looking at them.

It does not teach us either to decide that a person is good or bad only because of their appearance.

It tells above all an astonishing encounter experienced by the imam after having studied certain ancient books devoted to the observation of men.

And it also shows us something very simple:

it happens that we think we have understood a situation while a part of the story still escapes us.