It was a cold and windy night, and a novice darvish had gone to bed early. In a dream, he found himself in the company of great Sufis and was quick to take advantage of his fortune. He implored the great men for advice on how to conduct his life honorably without creating bad karma. In their infinite wisdom, the masters imparted the great secret of the magical mountain, where fruit of all kinds grew on trees and one could subsist on them freely for life.
Without exerting much effort, the darvish soon found the mountain and discovered the delectable fruit of the trees, which were in abundance everywhere. Much to his surprise, the fruits were not only sweet but also transformed his speech in such a manner that when he spoke, people were mesmerized by him. He was content that he'd never have to worry about his livelihood again.
One day, the darvish went to a nearby stream to wash. As he took off his coat, he felt two silver coins that he had sewn into the hem of his jacket long ago while he was still a working man. Almost instantly he noticed an old man in the distance carrying a heap of firewood on his bent back walking toward him. He thought, as I no longer need the silver, why don't I give these coins to this poor man; perhaps he can nourish his dilapidated body a little. But before the darvish could finish his thought, the old man was standing before him, his eyes ablaze!
Unbeknown to the young darvish, the old man was a high Sufi master who could read thoughts. He threw his enormous stack of firewood in front of the darvish, inflicting the fear of God on him. Quietly the old man whispered something inaudible, but the darvish nevertheless understood him. He was reproaching the darvish for belittling him, thinking that he was so worthless as to be deserving of alms. The old man, obviously offended, raised his arms, turning to the sky:
“My God, only You know who Your special devotees are and what precious gifts they are to this world. So please, for our sake, use Your alchemy to turn this stack of wood into gold!”
Instantly the wood turned into pure gold, as if on fire! The young darvish was stunned; frozen on the spot, he was unable to move. After a while, the old man turned to the sky again: “O God Almighty, You are the all-knowing; for the sake of Your devoted servant, please turn this gold back to its original form.”
The heap of gold instantly reverted to firewood, and the old man nimbly lifted the pieces onto his feeble back. He began walking toward the town, ignoring the calls of the young darvish, hoping that he had learned his lesson. He wished that the young man might remember this encounter and never again underestimate a working man's efforts to earn his keep rather than relying on handouts, like some.