Abraham left the room to cool his father's anger. But Terah called after him: "Abraham!" "Here I am." "Gather the wood splinters from the gods I carved before you came, and prepare my midday meal."
Abraham collected the splinters. And there, buried under the wood chips, he found a small idol that had been lying among the scraps. On its forehead was carved: GOD BARISAT. The name meant "son of fire."
Abraham said nothing to his father about the find. He laid the splinters in the fire to cook the meal. Then, before leaving to attend to something else, he set Barisat in front of the flames and spoke to the wooden god with mock seriousness:
"Pay careful attention, Barisat. Do not let the fire die down before I return. If it goes out, blow on it until it burns again."
When Abraham returned, Barisat had fallen backward into the fire. His feet were surrounded by flame, horribly burnt. Abraham burst out laughing. "Truly, Barisat! You can kindle fire and cook food!" As he watched, still laughing, the wooden god was gradually consumed, reduced to ashes.
Abraham served the meal to his father. Terah ate, drank wine and milk, and blessed his god Merumath.
"Father, do not bless Merumath. Bless Barisat instead! He loved you so much that he threw himself into the fire to cook your food."
"Where is Barisat now?" Terah asked.
"Burnt to ashes. Reduced to dust."
Terah's answer was staggering: "Great is the power of Barisat! I will make another one today, and tomorrow he will prepare my food."
A god whose name means "son of fire," devoured by that very element. And a father so deep in delusion that he planned to carve another one by morning.