“Ali and the woman whose baby crawled out on the roof A woman comes to Ali. My baby has crawled out on the roof near the water drain, where I cannot go. He won’t listen to me. I talk, but he doesn’t understand language. I make gestures. I show him my breast, but he turns away. What can I do? Take another baby his age up to the roof. The woman does, and the child sees his friend and crawls away from the edge. The prophets are human for this reason, that we may see them and delight in their friendly presence, and crawl away from the downspout. Muhammad calls himself a man like you. Likeness is a great drawing force. Those of mean dispositions learn hatred from each other, and they try to draw others in. Anyone whose haystack has burned does not enjoy seeing someone else’s candle lit.”
