Once there was an aspiring dervish. While wandering, he came upon an oak glade. He stayed and prayed and meditated, once a week going out for food. Year after year he aspired, and did his practices. But no response came, and sometimes he thought that his prayers couldn’t escape the tree branches. But it was so beautiful that he stayed longer and prayed harder.
The oak forest seemed to grow grander. But he became despondent and left in the middle of the night, stole away, never to return. All that night the glade gave off a shimmering glow.
In the morning a young beggar came by, wasn’t particularly intelligent or spiritual: he entered and began to pray in languages and songs that he never heard. The next morning he was enlightened.