of his village, and I was the dearest of Allah’s creation to him. His love for me never waned until he finally kept me shut up in the house the way a young girl is confined. I then applied myself so diligently to Zoroastrianism that I became the custodian (1) of the sacred fire we kindled, never letting it die out for even a single hour.

My father owned a vast estate. One day he was busy with the construction of a building and said, “My son, I have been diverted today by this building from tending the estate; go there and look after it (2) for me.” He instructed me about what he wanted done, then added, “Do not be long in returning, for if you stay away you matter more to me than the estate itself, and you will distract me from everything else.”

So I set out for the estate he had sent me to inspect. On the way I passed a church belonging to the Christians and heard their voices while they were praying. Because my father had kept me secluded in the house, I knew nothing about what people were doing. When I heard their voices I went in to see what they were about. Their prayer impressed me, and I felt drawn to their religion. I said, “By Allah, this is better than what we are upon.” I remained with them until the sun set; I never even made it to the estate. Then I asked them, “Where is the origin of this religion?” They replied, “In Syria.”

I went back to my father, who had already sent people to look for me, and I had caused him to neglect all his work. When I arrived he said, “My son, where have you been? Did I not (3) charge you with what I told you?” I replied, “Father, (4) I passed by some people praying in their church, and what I saw of their religion pleased me. By Allah, I stayed with them until the sun had set.” He said, “My son, there is nothing in that—”