On 1st February, 1891, Michael Conley, a farmer living near Ionia, in Chichasow county, Iowa, went to Dubuque, in Iowa, to be medically treated. He left at home his son Pat and his daughter Elizabeth, a girl of twenty-eight, a Catholic, in goo... Read more of The Satin Slippers at Scary Stories.caInformational Site Network Informational
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137 The Most Great Name #109
As explained in note 33, the Greatest Name of God ...

The Divine Who Hath Seized And Quaffed The Most Holy
THE divine who hath seized and quaffed the most holy ...

Suriy-i-ra'is
In His name, the All-Glorious! ...

22 Upon Completing Your Prostrations Seat Yourselves Cross-legged #14
The Arabic expression haykalu't-tawhid, translated he...

O Letter Of The Living! The Ear Of God
O Letter of the Living! The ear of God hath heard thy...

Message To The London Baha'is For The Day Of 'abdu'l-baha Specially Given To Mrs Enthoven
November 26th, 1911. ...

Lauded Be Thy Name, O Thou Who Beholdest All
Lauded be Thy name, O Thou Who beholdest all things a...





Praised Be Thou, O My God! How Can I Thank






Praised be Thou, O my God! How can I thank Thee for having singled me out
and chosen me above all Thy servants to reveal Thee, at a time when all
had turned away from Thy beauty! I testify, O my God, that if I were given
a thousand lives by Thee, and offered them up all in Thy path, I would
still have failed to repay the least of the gifts which, by Thy grace,
Thou hast bestowed upon me.

I lay asleep on the bed of self when lo, Thou didst waken me with the
divine accents of Thy voice, and didst unveil to me Thy beauty, and didst
enable me to listen to Thine utterances, and to recognize Thy Self, and to
speak forth Thy praise, and to extol Thy virtues, and to be steadfast in
Thy love. Finally I fell a captive into the hands of the wayward among Thy
servants.

Thou beholdest, therefore, the exile which I suffer in Thy days, and art
aware of my vehement longing to look upon Thy face, and of mine
irrepressible yearnings to enter the court of Thy glory, and of the
stirrings of my heart under the influences of the winds of Thy mercy.

I entreat Thee, O Thou Who art the Ruler of the kingdoms of creation and
the Author of all names, to write down my name with the names of them who,
from eternity, have circled round the Tabernacle of Thy majesty, and clung
to the hem of Thy loving-kindness, and held fast the cord of Thy tender
mercy.

Thou art, in truth, the Help in Peril, the Self-Subsisting.





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