Our father Adam was a man of medium height, broad shoulders, with thick hair. His complexion was dark brown, and his countenance bore the marks of goodness and peace. His looks bore witness to both trustworthiness and seriousness. I did not meet him myself, but I encountered him in a dream, and the revelation of blood made him known to me. Blood, as they say, is attractive, but blood is sneaky. When I encountered him, I remembered a grudge I always found against him whenever I reviewed his life story in Paradise. I said to him, "O our father, may God forgive you. How small is your inheritance and how great are your heirs!" Paradise was given to you with all its spaciousness, but you did not protect it for yourself or preserve it for your children after you. Then you left it without taking any provisions from its kindnesses and delicacies, nor did you store any of its treasures and wonders, as consolation for your children who are greedy with the unripe grapes you ate, and who are spoiled by the fruit you gathered. You left them wandering blindly in the darkness of life, stumbling over the face of the earth and seas, unable to find their way. So, when you were in Paradise, why did you not have, with its permissible goodness, a substitute for that forbidden tree? And why did you not remember your children when you ate from it, and pick for them from the fruits of Paradise what they could breathe the scent of that home in which you were? Then you left them longing for it! He was lowering his head, as if a forgotten memory had stirred within him, so his eyes filled with tears and I saw him fight back his sobs and sigh, then he extended his hand to me and said: Your height, my son, your height! - Abbas Mahmoud Al-Akkad