I would like to share a story from a brother who went to visit his Shaykh. Apologies as it is a bit long 
"We arrived at the Zawiya Thursday evening just before the Maghrib prayer. The air was cool and the setting sun cast a soft light upon the Zawiya complex giving the buildings a reddish pink glow. It was a long and circuitous trip getting there- the tale of the journey involved several connecting flights from America to Europe with delays and reroutes through unplanned European countries, baggage lost for almost a week after our arrival in Casablanca, a twelve hour train ride to Oujda and a one hour cab ride to the Zawiya.
Yet our weariness left us the minute our feet touched Madagh. We smile at each other as we pulled our bags out of the taxi in front of the house of Sidi Jamal, may Allah be pleased with him. Sidi Jamal calls his home “bayt al-wisal”, the “house of assembly” for travelers. Its spiritual meaning was not lost on any of us as we gazed upon the front door exhilarated with the end of our journey. We were four- Sidi Omar Salama from Houston, Sidi Abdellah Mourchid and his wife Lala Niama from Boston, and Sidi Ahmed Monib from the Washington D.C area. For Sidi Omar, this trip was to be his first to see Shaykh Sidi Hamza.
We were greeted at the door by Sidi Mohammed, a long time faqir from Rabat who Sidi Jamal has entrusted with taking care of the overseas fuqara. Sidi Mohammed greeted us warmly and helped us settle in. We quickly washed up and headed out to the Zawiya to pray Maghrib and participate in the evening dhikr. After the evening dhikr we returned to a scrumptious meal prepared by Sidi Jamal’s wife. She, may Allah be pleased with her, has been cooking for the Zawiya for over 29 years. It is said that her food is a healing and Baraka for the fuqara. Sidi Jamal says, “The food of the Beloved is a healing.” Satisfied both spiritually and physically we readied ourselves for bed and before our heads could sink into the pillows we were fast asleep.
We awoke on Friday with anticipation. Today we hoped to see Sidi Jamal at the Friday prayer. We prepared for the prayer and then headed out the door to be on our way. Just outside the house we greeted several fuqara also on their way to the mosque. We greeted one another in the way of our tariqa- clasping hands while simultaneously kissing the back of each others hands out of mutual respect. While we exchanged pleasantries and introductions, brother Omar looked up and over our heads pointing and exclaiming with certainty “That must be Sidi Jamal!” Brother Omar had never met Sidi Jamal before and the distance was too great to make out his face clearly. But Sidi Omar had no doubt- the presence that filled the air, the white glow of Sidi Jamal’s skin was unmistakable to any but the most hard hearted.
Sidi Abdellah and I turned and looked- sure enough it was Sidi Jamal. Our conversation ended abruptly as the fuqara turned to face Sidi Jamal. Our legs moved of their own accord as we walked quickly to Sidi Jamal. It was all I could do to keep myself from running full speed up to Sidi Jamal to embrace him. I reached him first and bent down to kiss his hand. My heart came alive and my pulse was racing- how did I live before this moment? My heart swelled and ached as though it would burst from love. Before me stood one of the greatest descendants of prophet Mohammad (pbuh)- I had no doubt.
We accompanied Sidi Jamal to the mosque and for the next several days we were with him every chance we got. We were always on the look out for him-like children constantly looking out the window to see when their Dad was coming home. And he took care of us like we were his own kids.Whenever we ate together in the traditional Moroccan style from one common platter, Sidi Jamal always took the best morsels of food and placed them before us. When we went out with him, he would make sure that our cloaks were wrapped well to guard us from the cold.When he saw us feeling awkward and lonely in a gathering because we did not understand the dialect spoken, he would turn and smile, briefly fixing his paternal gaze on us and suddenly everything was okay.Although he spoke little English, he loved to practice new English words with us, always asking us how to say this or that. Every word he learned he used with delight never losing interest in the beauty of knowledge gained.He even taught us matters of the heart with the English words he learned. As we ate he would say in English “Eat! Eat good! It is delicious” and somehow we knew he wasn’t talking just about the food. During the spiritual singing he would often tell the singers to “repeat” as he looked over at us and smiled.Everyone seated- all hundred of us, whether they spoke English or not understood that we should take heed of the verses sung.
This was the way Sidi Jamal treated everyone.Everyone felt special.Everyone felt Sidi Jamal’s love.In any gathering, no matter how many people were present all would swear that Sidi Jamal gave them his attention.His actions were from his heart and his heart was full of love for everyone and everything.Unless you were made of stone, it was impossible not to love him back. Grown men cry like babies in his presence and prestigious scholars scream and jump like mad men when he is near.The teenagers at the Zawiya love to make Sidi Jamal smile and were always eager to tell him stories to get his attention. If you seek to love the Prophet, then start by loving this man.The Wali amongst his people is like the Prophet to mankind. (Al-Wali fi’l Qawm, Kal Nabi fi’l Ummah)
On the weekend,we went to see Shaykh Sidi Hamza in Naima village.To stand before the Shaykh and gaze upon him is to stand before the Splendor of Mount Kilimanjaro. Only Kilimanjaro is an ant hill compared to the Shaykh’s majesty .When the Shaykh’s eyes locked with yours it was never more than a second.Not because he looked away, but because you looked down. When we entered the Shaykh’s room, Sidi Omar unconsciously started whispering La ilaha ila Allah over and over again.When we gave the Shaykh our salams it was a wonder that he could even hear us, our voices were so meek.The Shaykh greeted us and advised us to keep up with our dhikr and orientation (Tawajjuh). He told us to say “La ilaha ila Allah” a minimum of 15,000 times a day. For those of us in America he specifically mentioned that we should work together and help one another. When our time with our Master was over he waved us away saying, “now go to the Zawiya!”
That night back at the Zawiya, Sidi Omar decided to pledge himself to the Boutchichi tariqa. Sidi Jamal clasped his hands over Sidi Omar’s and read the verses that bond our hearts to Shaykh Sidi Hamza’s and to the Master of Mankind, Mohammad, peace and blessings be upon him. We spent several beautiful days with the fuqara and then with reluctance we departed tearfully to return to America. Yet we returned with our hearts full of honey from our beloved Shaykh, the light of this world, inheritor of our Prophet’s sanctity, Shaykh Sidi Hamza may Allah be pleased with him. And may Allah be pleased with Sidi Jamal, Sidi Mounir and all the Boutchichi family. The honey is with our Shaykh in safeguarded jars, and the fuqara, like bees, partake of it in quantity.