One beautiful moonlight night, Jelāl and Shems were together on the terraced roof of the college, and all the inhabitants of Qonya were sleeping on their housetops.
Shems remarked: “See all these poor creatures! They are dead to every sense of their Creator on this beautiful night of God’s decree. Wilt thou not, Jelāl, of thy infinite compassion, wake them up, and let them gain a share in the shower of blessings of this night?”
Thus appealed to, Jelāl faced toward Mekka, and offered up this prayer to God: “O Thou Lord of heaven, and of earth, for the love of Thy servant Shemsu-’d-Dīn, vouchsafe wakefulness to this people.”
Immediately a black cloud gathered from the unseen world. Thunders and lightnings burst forth; and so heavy a rain fell, that all the sleepers, catching up what clothing they could find, quickly took refuge in their houses below. Shems smiled at the saintly joke, and was greatly amused.
When daylight dawned, the disciples gathered round, numerous as the raindrops of that shower; and Shems related to them the story, with the following remarks:—
“Hitherto, all the prophets and saints have ever sought to hide from vulgar eyes the miraculous powers they have possessed, so that none should be aware of the fact. But now, our Lord and Master, Jelāl, has been so successful in secretly following up the path of mystic love, that his miraculous powers have hitherto escaped the searching eyes of even the chiefest of God’s elect, even as it hath been said: ‘Verily, God hath saints of whom no man knoweth.’”
13.
Kimiyā Khātūn, the wife of Shemsu-’d-Dīn, was a very beautiful, and also a very virtuous, woman. One day, however, it so happened that, without his permission or knowledge, the grandmother of Sultan Veled, and her attendant ladies, took Kimiyā with them for an outing to the vineyards of the city.
As chance would have it, Shems came home while she was still away. He asked for her, and was informed where she had gone, and with whom. He was exceedingly annoyed at her absence.
Kimiyā had scarcely returned home, ere she began to feel unwell. Her limbs stiffened like dry firewood, and became motionless. She continued screaming and moaning for three days, and then gave up the ghost, in the month of Sha’bān, A.H. 644. (December, A.D. 1246. But compare a conflicting date given in No. 9, further back.)