The fault is that of my father and mother, for they brought me up with so much kindness. When the cat would make a mess and break the bowl, my father would not strike it in front of me or say anything. Laughing, he would say, "What did you do this time? It's good. That was destiny, and it passed in this way. Otherwise it might have fallen on you or on me, or on mother. The lord took us to harm, but He brought it to pass in kindness."
From the reed they make candy with cajolery,
from the worm they make silk with the passing of days.
Make slowness your trade, show patience,
from grapes they make halva with time.
Shams
Me & Rumi - My Years Without Mawlana - Childhood
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