Waves of Destiny

Mother’s condition was getting worse every day, but we could not afford to take her to the doctor for treatment. My sister and I didn’t know what to do, so we thought it best if I stopped going to school and went out and found a job. I was willing to do any kind of work, but I was only thirteen, and finding a job was extremely difficult due to the war and thousands of people who were unemployed. We thought it would be better to tell Mother of our decision.

“Maman, I have something to tell you. Rafat and I have decided that it would be better for us if I stop going to school and go to work for a short time until you get better,” I said.

“No, no, never, as long as I am alive; you must continue your education,” she insisted.

“Well, what else can we do, Maman?” I asked.

“Go to Sagha-Khaneh and pray. Go to God and ask Him to help us,” she replied weakly.

Sagha-Khaneh were very small places built outdoors in alleyways and streets. There was fresh water to drink, and there were also large candlesticks that people would light and then pray to God. There was one such place in an alleyway next to the American Christian hospital where I went once a week to pray.

The next day after coming home from school, I noticed Mother’s condition had become worse. She could hardly open her eyes, and she was burning up with fever. I left the house and ran to Sagha-Khaneh where I knelt down in front of God and broke into tears as I began to pray.

“Oh, dear God, I have come to You for help. Oh, my Lord, please help us; please save my devoted and innocent mother; please save us from dying of hunger.”

As I rested my forehead on the wall and cried loudly in the silence of the alleyway, I suddenly felt a few taps on my shoulder. I turned around and saw a tall American soldier standing over me. He started talking to me but I couldn’t understand a word he was saying. I had the feeling he was trying to calm me down as he stroked my head and wiped my tears with his handkerchief.

He had a very large bag, a kind of knapsack, that was full. In a kind voice, he was trying to tell me to take it.

“Here, you take it,” he said.

I knew he wanted me to take the bag, but I didn’t want to, so in Farsi I said, “Nah-Nah (No-No)!”

He insisted and made me take the bag. He tapped me on the back and said, “Go. Go home.”

I didn’t know what was in the bag, but it was so full and so very heavy that I could barely carry it to the house. When I arrived home, I told Rafat all about what took place.

“Let’s open it and see what’s in it. Maybe God sent that soldier to you,” she said.

We opened the bag and were amazed by what we found inside. There were many boxes of biscuits, chocolate, chewing gum, candy, packs of sugar, cans of beef, cans of soup, a few packs of cigarettes, and a few decks of playing cards.

We could not imagine why he might have put all those things in the bag. We asked our neighbors about it, and they told us that a lot of American soldiers in Teheran would sell their rations to obtain extra Iranian money to spend.

Again my prayers were answered. Not only did my mother feel better the next day, but she completely recovered after about ten days. We ate some of the food and sold some of the items, so we had extra money.

In those days, during the war, some items, like cigarettes, chocolates, and sugar were scarce and the rich would pay any price to buy them. After discussing the subject, we decided our best potential buyer would be my rich aunt. The next weekend I took the items to her house.

They could not believe their eyes and asked how I got all this merchandise to sell. When I told them about it, how I went and prayed and about the American soldier, even my aunt cried. They bought all I had, and I made enough money to keep us going for a few months. As I was returning home, a thought came to me, “Why not go into business doing this very thing.”

I told Mother and Sister about it and they both thought it was a good idea. We paid some of the rent due, bought some food, and I kept the balance for my business venture.

The very next day I began waiting in front of the American Christian hospital for the American soldiers to come out. At first it was difficult, since I didn’t speak the language, so I had to improvise with hand gestures. The first few weeks, business was terrible I couldn’t make them understand, and they were going to the established dealers to conduct business.

These dealers who were there for a long time and had thousands of Toman (Iranian money) in their possession, did not want any competition around them, so a few times they made that clear to me.

“Look, kid, this is not your kind of job, so get out of here or else!” one of them said to me. “What effect will it have on your business if I buy a few things from them,” I replied.

“I tell you what; you come here next time and you won’t leave here in one piece.” Although I was really scared, I did not mention it to my mother. I knew she would stop me from going back to work.

One Friday (Iranian holiday) when I went back to the same place to work, I saw an American soldier with a small bag in his hand. I approached him and asked him to sell me the contents of the bag. “Here is a hundred Tuman.”  I gave him the money and walked away. Suddenly from out of nowhere two of the dealers blocked my way.