O God, whatsoever Thou hast apportioned to me of worldly things, do Thou give that to Thy enemies; and whatsoever Thou hast apportioned to me in the world to come, give that to Thy friends; for Thou sufficest me.
O God, if I worship Thee for fear of Hell, burn me in Hell and if I worship Thee in hope of Paradise, exclude me from Paradise; but if I worship Thee for Thy own sake, grudge me not Thy everlasting beauty.
O God, my whole occupation and all my desire in this world of all worldly things, is to remember Thee, and in the world to come, of all things of the world to come, is to meet Thee. This is on my side, as I have stated; now do Thou whatsoever Thou wilt.
When the time came that Rabe’a should die, those attending her deathbed left the room and closed the door. Then a voice was heard saying, O soul at peace, return unto thy Lord, well-pleased! A time passed and no sound came from the room, so they opened the door and found that she had given up the ghost.
After her death she was seen in a dream. She was asked “How did you fare with Monkar and Nakir?” She replied “Those youths came to me and said, ‘Who is thy Lord?’ I answered, ‘Return and say to God, with so many thousand thousand creatures Thou didst not forget one feeble old woman. I, who have only Thee in the whole world, I shall never, forget Thee, that Thou shouldst send one to ask me, Who is thy God?’”
A leading scholar of Basra visited Rabe’a on her sickbed. Sitting beside her pillow, he reviled the world.
“You love the world very dearly,” Rabe’a commented. “If you did not love the world, you would not make mention of it so much. It is always the purchaser who disparages the wares. If you were done with the world, you would not mention it either for good or evil. As it is, you keep mentioning it because as the proverb says, whoever loves a thing mentions it frequently.”
Once Rabe’a fasted for a whole week, neither eating nor sleeping. All night she was occupied with praying. Her hunger passed all bounds. A visitor entered her house bringing a bowl of food. Rabe’a accepted it and went to fetch a lamp. She returned to find that the cat had spilled the bowl.
“I will go and fetch a jug, and break my fast,” she said.
By the time she had brought the jug, the lamp had gone out. She aimed to drink the water in the dark, but the jug slipped from her hand and was broken. She uttered lamentation and sighed so ardently that there was fear that half of the house would be consumed with fire.
“O God,” she cried, “what is this that Thou art doing with Thy helpless servant?”
“Have a care,” a voice came to her ears, “lest thou desire Me to bestow on thee all worldly blessings, but eradicate from thy heart the care for Me. Care for Me and worldly blessings can never be associated together in a single heart. Rabe’a, thou desirest one thing, and I desire another; My desire and thy desire can never be joined in one heart.”
“When I heard this admonition,” Rabe’a related, “I so cut off my heart from the world and curtailed my desires that whenever I have prayed during the last thirty years, I have assumed it to be my last prayer.”
O SON OF EARTH!
Wouldst thou have Me, seek none other than Me; and wouldst thou gaze upon My beauty, close thine eyes to the world and all that is therein; for My will and the will of another than Me, even as fire and water, cannot dwell together in one heart.
