I, Halet-Abel, an innkeeper, was born the adored male child of a poor but loving husband and wife. We lived in a rough, coarse, one-room dwelling the distance of a day’s walk to the beautiful city of Gandhara.
On one bright day of spring renewal, as a boy, I joyfully accompanied Father and Mother to Gandhara’s festive marketplace. Mother and I came along to encourage Father in his attempt to peddle a few goats, a horse, and a camel.
Father was an honest impoverished farmer who raised superior animals. He bred them to sell in the Gandhara marketplace for gold.
As we led the animals along the dry sandy footpaths to Gandhara that day, Mother loudly cried out to Allah in prayer. “Are we destined for adversity? Misfortune plagues us. Oh, how I pray for relief. I earnestly beseech you to lift my worthy husband’s spirits so he may sell his animals for gold. We must survive this coming year.”
Father shrugged his weary shoulders and said,”My dear wife, I believe your fervent prayers sent us harsh winter storms which killed two of my valuable camels.”
She said, “No, it cannot be.”
He said, “The action of your powerful prayers also spoiled some of our meager food supplies. I know you remember our food did not last us through the winter. Because of this catastrophe, we had to kill a fine goat for food.”
She said, “You are wrong. My prayers kept us safe in the storm. They provided a way for us to eat. Look around you. We are still alive. Our son is healthy. My husband, you must be grateful for our blessings.”
He said, “You do not understand. We must do more than pray. We must prosper for the sake of our son. I won’t burden him with poverty.”
She said, “In my eyes, we are not poor. We are rich with love. Our son could have no greater legacy.”
Father smiled and touched her cheek. “No man has such a wife as you.”
She said, ”My honorable husband and father. I appreciate your kindness. I could not ask for more dedication. However, we indeed need a sturdier house.”
He said, “I only sold two goats last year. We had trying times getting through the cold winter. Should I find a way to earn a gold surplus, we will make our house stronger.”
Soon enough, we arrived in the bustling Gandhara marketplace. Hurriedly, we assembled our place of business, tethered our animals, established our campsite, and looked around at the enthralling bazaar displayed before us.
We immediately noticed the crowded trading center was filled with tall, loud, strange travelers from faraway lands. I heard merchants near us speak excitedly of frequent caravans passing by on their way to or from China. Some called this trade route the Silk Road.
I listened intently to the strange foreign travelers tell exotic stories of this Silk Road. These extraordinary storytellers knew the language of our words as they hypnotically spoke of narrow winding streets in China overflowing with rivers of brightly colored silks. Some men described tiny Chinese women who walked about on small bird feet and painted their faces white. Others spoke of heavenly tastes and aromas fit only for royalty.
These peculiar fantasy-like tales leaped from ear to ear, to hear, and mouth to mouth for retelling these unbelievable stories. A dreamlike air of excitement surrounded us.
As I entertained myself listening to these stories, Father and Mother tended to the affairs of our animals. On this day, there were yet, no sales.
Father spoke with many men who wanted to buy the horse and camel. These enthusiastic men dreamed of joining a caravan and traveling the Silk Road. Sadly, they had no gold.
Many others expressed interest in the value of our high-quality goats. But no one wanted to buy or had gold enough to purchase our animals. Father knew these men were destitute. They could not pay the total value, and Father could not sell for less. The discouraging day wore on, and there were no sales.
Suddenly, a tall foreigner with long hair on his chin stepped forward. He spoke politely to Father, “I do not aim to disturb your business, but I wish to inspect your animals more closely. May your wife briefly show them to me?”
Father said, “Yes. That is seemly for I am busy with customers.”
The foreigner spoke with Mother and meticulously inspected Father’s animals, he said, “I need to buy all the animals you have for sale. Take my fistful of gold and bring them to my caravan. I will show you the way.”
That night as we camped, I observed my mother as she knelt beside Father near the cook fire. I heard her intimate whispers as she spoke.
“She said, “My husband, I wish to tell you the words of the hairy-faced foreigner who spoke freely to me at to me at the marketplace today.
Father gently touched her shoulder and said, “What do you wish me to know?”
She said, “This man at the market is from a far land beyond Gandhara. He asked if I knew of a secret inn for himself, his father, and his uncle so they might rest.”
Father said, “That is a curious thing to ask. Everyone knows there are no inns in Gandhara.”
She said, “I know well. Another truth I know is this man, his father, and uncle are ill. He expressed the need for a dry, safe place to lay their heads for three days until the sickness passes.
He said, “Allah will watch over them. Be at peace.”
She said, “Husband, the foreigner took a black silk pouch filled with gold from his inner garment. He implored me to speak with you right away.”
Father asked, “Did this man say more?”
She said, “He spoke thus; I will pay a king’s fortune for three days and three nights of safe rest. We request a simple shelter and protection from bandits who steal.”
Father said, “My wife, we have no inn. We have only our small plain house.”
She said, “I informed him so.”
He said, “If we allow these men to stay in our house where shall we be?”
She said, “We will shelter with the animals. It is the righteous thing to do.”
He said, “Yes. It is so.”
She said, “My husband, I must tell you more. The tall stranger said he would be in the marketplace at daybreak to await your reply. You will find him near our camp. He humbly asked for secrecy.”
Father said, “My wife, Allah has been good to us. It is our duty to help others.”
She said, “I am grateful you understand.”
He said, “We sold our animals for more than I dreamed. This fortuitous amount of gold will see us through several years.”
She said, “These sick men urgently require our help.”
He said, Yes, I know. If you agree, then we shall assist them.”
Early the following day, we located the foreigner standing near our campsite. We offered to graciously shelter the three men without payment as a token of gratitude for our good fortune.
Mother explained to the stranger that our simple home was not luxurious. The tall foreigner said, “We have traveled too many days. Our bodies are weak and require rest. Thank you for accommodating us.”
Father asked, “Who are the men accompanying you?”
The foreigner said, “They are my father, Niccolo, and my uncle, Maffeo. We are of the family Polo. My name is Marco Polo. We come straight from the palace of the great Kubla Kahn.”
Mother asked, “Where are you going?”
The foreigner Marco Polo said, “Our present destination is our home in Venice. Many years have passed since we have been to our home. We bring many precious goods from the Orient to trade.”
Mother said, “Is there great danger in your travels?”
He said, Some would do us harm. That is why we sincerely ask you to keep our location secret. Thank you for allowing us to abide and recuperate here. We are forever in your debt.”
By nightfall, the three men and their caravan arrived. We took charge of the animals. They secured their belongings and entered our home.
Father, Mother, and I did what we could do to help. We watered and fed the camels and other animals. We also kept a careful watch over our guests.
After three days, the foreigner, Marco, his father, and uncle, bid us a friendly farewell and went on their way.
Father said, “I am pleased we had the opportunity to do the will of Allah and help these men.”
Mother said, “Yes, I, too, am pleased. It is a wise understanding of our faith when we aid those in need. We remember to be grateful. Now let us enter our home and rest.”
Father discovered, inside our home, on top of our eating table, a black bag bulging with gold. Mothered opened it and found it contained a king’s fortune. I cannot express the jubilation we felt at that moment. We gave thanks to Allah for this wondrous, unexpected gift.
Though it has been many years since this event, our family continues to pray that peace, health, and safety are with these kind men wherever they travel.
Details of this true childhood story are etched in my memory. It was my inspiration to become an innkeeper on the Old Silk Road.
Bio
Carolyn Slovitz is a mother, a grandmother, a friend, a former elementary school teacher, and a writer. She successfully published two children’s books, “Miss Mean Minnie Greene” and “Cocoa and Nestle, Double Trouble Dachshunds.” Carolyn also serves as one of the administrators for Aspiring Writers’ Society.
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