A story
Abu al-Hasan, Caliph for a Day (from One Thousand and One Nights)
In the great city of Baghdad, there lived a cheerful young man named Abu al-Hasan. He lived with his mother in a small house on a narrow street. He did not have much money, but he had a big heart. Every evening, he stood on the bridge over the river and invited one stranger home for supper.
"Nobody should eat alone," he always said.
Now, in those days, the ruler of Baghdad was the wise Caliph Harun al-Rashid. The Caliph liked to know how his people really lived. So sometimes, at night, he dressed up as a simple traveler and walked through the city streets with his friend, the minister Jafar.
One evening, Abu al-Hasan saw a traveler standing on the bridge, looking at the moon. "Good evening, friend," he said. "Have you had your supper? Please come and eat with me."
The traveler smiled. He did not say that he was the Caliph. "Thank you," he said. "I would like that very much."
Abu al-Hasan's mother made lentil soup, warm bread, and a plate of dates. The two men talked and laughed for hours. Abu al-Hasan told funny stories. He told the traveler about his neighbors, too.
"There is old Umm Salim at the end of the street," he said. "The roof of her little house leaks every winter. There is the baker, who works so hard but cannot afford a new oven. And there are the children, who have no place to play except the dusty road." Abu al-Hasan sighed. "If I were Caliph for just one day, I would help them all."
The traveler's eyes twinkled. "Is that so?" he said.
It had been a long day, and the soup was warm and filling. Abu al-Hasan yawned a great big yawn. Soon, he was fast asleep on his cushion, snoring softly.
The Caliph called his servants, who were waiting quietly outside. "Carry him gently to the palace," he whispered. "Put him in my own bed. And tomorrow, everyone must treat him as the Caliph."
In the morning, Abu al-Hasan opened his eyes. He was lying in an enormous bed with silk pillows. Sunlight poured through tall windows of colored glass. Servants in fine clothes were standing all around him.
"Good morning, Commander of the Faithful!" they said, and they bowed. One of them held a golden tray piled high with fruit.
Abu al-Hasan rubbed his eyes. He pinched his arm. "Ouch," he said. "I am not dreaming." He looked around. "Who am I?"
"You are the Caliph, of course," said the servants, trying very hard not to giggle.
Abu al-Hasan sat up. He thought about it for a long time. Then he jumped out of bed. "If I am the Caliph today," he said, "then there is no time to waste!"
He did not ask for jewels. He did not ask for a feast. Instead, he called for the palace builders. "Go to the narrow street by the river," he said. "Find the little house of Umm Salim and mend her roof, so it never leaks again."
Then he called for the palace treasurer. "Take a bag of coins to the baker on the same street, so he can buy a new oven. Tell him the first loaf is for his own family."
Then he called for the palace gardeners. "There is an empty lot at the end of that street. Please plant trees there, and put in a fountain and some swings, so the children have a place to play."
The servants rushed off to do everything he said. Abu al-Hasan spent the rest of the day listening to people who came to the palace with problems. He was fair and kind to every single one. Hidden behind a curtain, the real Caliph watched and smiled.
That evening, tired out from his busy day, Abu al-Hasan yawned a great big yawn, and he fell fast asleep. The servants carried him gently back to his own little house and laid him on his own cushion.
In the morning, Abu al-Hasan woke up and looked around. There was his mother, making bread. There was the cracked wall. There was his old blanket.
"Mother!" he cried. "I had the most wonderful dream. I dreamed I was the Caliph!"
His mother laughed. "Then come and look outside," she said. "Because something wonderful has happened on our street."
Abu al-Hasan went to the door. Umm Salim's roof had shiny new tiles. The baker was waving from his doorway, beside a big new oven, with a loaf of fresh bread in his hands. And at the end of the street, where the dusty lot used to be, there were young trees, a splashing fountain, and children laughing on swings.
Abu al-Hasan's mouth fell open. "But it was a dream," he said. "Wasn't it?"
Just then, a traveler came walking up the street. It was the same traveler from the bridge. But this time, he was dressed in royal robes, and Jafar the minister walked beside him.
Abu al-Hasan's knees wobbled. "You are the Caliph!" he said.
The Caliph laughed a warm, friendly laugh. "And yesterday, so were you," he said. "I am sorry for playing a trick on you. I wanted to see what you would do if you had all the riches of Baghdad for one day. Most people would have asked for gold. You asked for a roof, an oven, and a playground for other people."
Abu al-Hasan smiled shyly. "Well," he said, "I already have a good supper every night. They needed help more than I did."
The Caliph put his hand on Abu al-Hasan's shoulder. "Then I would like you to come to the palace every week," he said. "Sit beside me and tell me about the people of Baghdad. I think you know them better than anyone."
And so Abu al-Hasan became the Caliph's good friend. He still lived in his little house, and he still invited strangers home for supper. But now, whenever someone on his street needed help, they knew exactly whose door to knock on.
"Nobody should eat alone," he always said.
Now, in those days, the ruler of Baghdad was the wise Caliph Harun al-Rashid. The Caliph liked to know how his people really lived. So sometimes, at night, he dressed up as a simple traveler and walked through the city streets with his friend, the minister Jafar.
One evening, Abu al-Hasan saw a traveler standing on the bridge, looking at the moon. "Good evening, friend," he said. "Have you had your supper? Please come and eat with me."
The traveler smiled. He did not say that he was the Caliph. "Thank you," he said. "I would like that very much."
Abu al-Hasan's mother made lentil soup, warm bread, and a plate of dates. The two men talked and laughed for hours. Abu al-Hasan told funny stories. He told the traveler about his neighbors, too.
"There is old Umm Salim at the end of the street," he said. "The roof of her little house leaks every winter. There is the baker, who works so hard but cannot afford a new oven. And there are the children, who have no place to play except the dusty road." Abu al-Hasan sighed. "If I were Caliph for just one day, I would help them all."
The traveler's eyes twinkled. "Is that so?" he said.
It had been a long day, and the soup was warm and filling. Abu al-Hasan yawned a great big yawn. Soon, he was fast asleep on his cushion, snoring softly.
The Caliph called his servants, who were waiting quietly outside. "Carry him gently to the palace," he whispered. "Put him in my own bed. And tomorrow, everyone must treat him as the Caliph."
In the morning, Abu al-Hasan opened his eyes. He was lying in an enormous bed with silk pillows. Sunlight poured through tall windows of colored glass. Servants in fine clothes were standing all around him.
"Good morning, Commander of the Faithful!" they said, and they bowed. One of them held a golden tray piled high with fruit.
Abu al-Hasan rubbed his eyes. He pinched his arm. "Ouch," he said. "I am not dreaming." He looked around. "Who am I?"
"You are the Caliph, of course," said the servants, trying very hard not to giggle.
Abu al-Hasan sat up. He thought about it for a long time. Then he jumped out of bed. "If I am the Caliph today," he said, "then there is no time to waste!"
He did not ask for jewels. He did not ask for a feast. Instead, he called for the palace builders. "Go to the narrow street by the river," he said. "Find the little house of Umm Salim and mend her roof, so it never leaks again."
Then he called for the palace treasurer. "Take a bag of coins to the baker on the same street, so he can buy a new oven. Tell him the first loaf is for his own family."
Then he called for the palace gardeners. "There is an empty lot at the end of that street. Please plant trees there, and put in a fountain and some swings, so the children have a place to play."
The servants rushed off to do everything he said. Abu al-Hasan spent the rest of the day listening to people who came to the palace with problems. He was fair and kind to every single one. Hidden behind a curtain, the real Caliph watched and smiled.
That evening, tired out from his busy day, Abu al-Hasan yawned a great big yawn, and he fell fast asleep. The servants carried him gently back to his own little house and laid him on his own cushion.
In the morning, Abu al-Hasan woke up and looked around. There was his mother, making bread. There was the cracked wall. There was his old blanket.
"Mother!" he cried. "I had the most wonderful dream. I dreamed I was the Caliph!"
His mother laughed. "Then come and look outside," she said. "Because something wonderful has happened on our street."
Abu al-Hasan went to the door. Umm Salim's roof had shiny new tiles. The baker was waving from his doorway, beside a big new oven, with a loaf of fresh bread in his hands. And at the end of the street, where the dusty lot used to be, there were young trees, a splashing fountain, and children laughing on swings.
Abu al-Hasan's mouth fell open. "But it was a dream," he said. "Wasn't it?"
Just then, a traveler came walking up the street. It was the same traveler from the bridge. But this time, he was dressed in royal robes, and Jafar the minister walked beside him.
Abu al-Hasan's knees wobbled. "You are the Caliph!" he said.
The Caliph laughed a warm, friendly laugh. "And yesterday, so were you," he said. "I am sorry for playing a trick on you. I wanted to see what you would do if you had all the riches of Baghdad for one day. Most people would have asked for gold. You asked for a roof, an oven, and a playground for other people."
Abu al-Hasan smiled shyly. "Well," he said, "I already have a good supper every night. They needed help more than I did."
The Caliph put his hand on Abu al-Hasan's shoulder. "Then I would like you to come to the palace every week," he said. "Sit beside me and tell me about the people of Baghdad. I think you know them better than anyone."
And so Abu al-Hasan became the Caliph's good friend. He still lived in his little house, and he still invited strangers home for supper. But now, whenever someone on his street needed help, they knew exactly whose door to knock on.
