Next to Eddie's home was a secluded monastery, where a group of monks lived. They spent part of their day in worship and the other part tilling the monastery's fields, from which they produced their wheat, oil, wine, and other food necessities.
One evening in December of the year 1812, after the monks had spent most of the day clearing the snow that had accumulated on the monastery's roofs, they gathered in one of its rooms. They had lit a firewood hearth and sat around it warming themselves and conversing, the door shut tight. They were wrapped in cloaks fastened at the waist.
Their conversation was intermittently disturbed by the thunderclaps, flashes of lightning, the pounding of rain and hail on the monastery walls and windows, and the howling winter winds and storms.
Then their leader said, "I heard something today that troubled me. Have your ears caught wind of it?"
They replied, "What is this news?"
He said, "It reached me that two men from the Maalouf family, from the village of Baskinta, attacked the Catholic Patriarch, Ignatius Sarrouf of Damascus, near the village of Zouk Mikael, and killed him. I've learned that Prince Bashir was deeply grieved by this and has begun pursuing justice against the guilty."
Then one of the monks said, "How could such a thing happen in the Emirate of Bashir unless with his collusion? Don't be fooled by what you've heard about his displeasure. The Shihabis don't care about killing all the patriarchs ... they're not of their faith."
The head monk interrupted him, saying, "I think you don't know that the prince secretly converted to Christianity!"
One of them asked, "Is what you say true? Then why the secrecy? Wouldn't it be better for him to openly declare his conversion? Otherwise, he is going against the Gospel!"
The head monk replied, "You know well that declaring his conversion would bring material harm to his interests — not to mention the general hatred it would stir among the Shihabis, since their lineage traces back to the Quraysh tribe. He's already been dismissed and reappointed under Ahmad Pasha al-Jazzar because of such matters."
Another monk asked, "How can he be Christian if we've never seen him visit a church to perform Christian rites?"
The head monk answered, "The prince never neglected his religious duties during prayer times. He has designated a secret room in his palace as a chapel, where he prays in secret. Only a few individuals know about this room — its door is covered with a material that matches the wall colour so that no one notices there's a door there."
A deeply devout monk said, "It is not fitting for us to be hypocrites in our faith, nor to deny our Saviour for worldly gain."
The head monk quickly interrupted him, saying, "Lower your voice before your words reach the prince's ears and we fall into trouble because of what we've said."
The monk laughed and said, "Where are we, and where is Prince Bashir? Isn't there more than two miles between us?"
The head monk replied, "I don't know the exact distance between us and him, but I do know that God has given him what He hasn't given to anyone else. It's as if all these walls have eyes and spies that report everything to him — he learns what happens in the farthest corners of Lebanon while sitting in his palace."
No sooner had the head monk finished his words than a knock was heard at the door. Fear gripped his heart and the hearts of the monks. None of them dared to get up and open the door. They began whispering among themselves, trying to come up with an excuse to clear themselves.
Meanwhile, one of them stood and opened the door ... and there stood a tall, dark-skinned man in strange clothes, next to him a veiled woman dressed in deep black garments.
The black man held a child in his arms, and all three were shivering from the intense cold. The monk asked them what they wanted.
The man replied, "Is this place a monastery?"
"Yes," said the monk.
"Would you receive us as guests for the night?"
"Yes," he answered, and brought them into the room, seating them on a bench near the abbot.
The abbot studied them ... their appearance and features were foreign, which helped calm the monks' initial fears. From their overall condition, it was clear they had come from a distant place and had suffered greatly from fatigue and cold.
The abbot began to speak, saying:
"Indeed, you have honoured us tonight. Your presence has brought blessings to our home. Welcome! Where have you come from?"
The man replied with a sigh, "We have come, dear father, from a faraway land."
The abbot said, "Then you must need food."
He ordered one of the monks to bring them a meal, which included yoghurt, cheese, qawarma (preserved meat), honey, and thin flatbread. They also drank a little fine aged wine — the kind rarely found outside of monasteries.
While eating, the woman removed her veil, revealing a face like the full moon. Despite the clear signs of exhaustion, hardship, sorrow, and grief, her features bore a striking majesty and dignity. Everyone was astonished that this "white angel" would be accompanied by such a dark-skinned man.
The abbot ordered more firewood brought to warm them, and they sat by the fire resting while the abbot observed their appearance, clothing, and speech. It became increasingly clear to him that they were not from Lebanon.
He began to speak again:
"Allow me to ask why you have come to this village at this late hour ... though I hope you won't find the question inappropriate. It appears you've travelled from a distant land. Could it be you came from Damascus?"
The man replied, "No, but we are from a village near that city. By God's will, we shall tell you our full story in the morning."
The abbot said, "Very well. You must need sleep. We have prepared a place for you to rest."
He instructed a monk to lead them to a room in which an oil lamp was lit. On the floor were two simple but clean and well-arranged mattresses — for the Lebanese, regardless of their social class, are known for their cleanliness and orderliness. Even the poorest among them would not shame you if you shared their food, their company, or even their bed when staying at their home.
The man and woman washed their feet with warm water prepared for them. The abbot then asked if they needed anything else, and they replied, "No."
So the abbot and the others left the room, closing the door behind them, while discussing among themselves the mystery of this man, the woman, and her child. They then returned to the warm room.
The abbot said, "We thank God we've been spared Prince Bashir's wrath. I was afraid that the visitor might have been one of his spies."
A monk replied, "And how do you know he isn't? That man might still be a spy!"
The rest of the monks all objected together, saying:
"That cannot be! Can't you tell from their overall condition that they are foreigners? By tomorrow morning, we will learn the truth."
After an hour, or perhaps less, each of them went off to his room to sleep.