When the teachers went to visit their Murad

Mehr News AgencyGuest Note – Fatima Raei: After a long time I had gone to Qazvin to see my family. I wanted to stay for a few days. The air of the village was breathing in May and it was a pity to finish it soon. But the nostalgia for the air of Imam Khomeini's Husseiniyah was scheduled to leave and left the trip half. It was now on Saturday at 9pm I had delivered my entry card. I have stepped down to the entrance doors from my time, which is usually less in Tehran's traffic and busy work. Not reached the first gate, but the fears of the girl stopped me. His color was pale and he was worried about the eyes. I knew this well. I went to it. It was Kashani's newcomer. Half of the night had traveled to Tehran with his other colleagues and had arrived at dawn. They had put them into the bus to not be delayed in the queue, and this one had placed his entry card there. Now without the phone, he wouldn't have a strap. God had the driver's number, and the same thing God had not yet delivered the phone. In short, we found the driver around Har Square and my new friend went to his card. I stayed and a world of rush to Hosseinieh …

In the market relief queue, the questions were warm: “Do we have to give everything?”, “Can't the phone?” And … and the ladies inside the booth some kindly and some of them were informed of their frustration that it was forbidden to take everything. I delivered the bag and the phone and went empty -handed. I thought to myself how to write a story now without pen and paper? God, I was finding a sheet inside Husseiniyah. Let's get it! What was the automatic? In my mind, I was fantasy that I wish they could only take the ban on this meeting.

Now I had reached the entrance queue. It was longer and more wages. The sound of various accents was complicated. A few people in Kermanshahi accents were complaining about slow movement and worried that they would be late.

The Azeris were looking for the entrance door. Baluchi tidied their bright scarves. It was as if they had gathered all of Iran under one roof, and now everyone had a concern with every dialect and background: to enter Husseiniyeh and sit in a place where it is a gentleman …

A little further on the other side of the ladies were standing up to their age and faces, but they all had law enforcement cards and wanted to queue sooner. I had trained them in front of the trustees. From their wandering and questions, some of them are the first time they experience the visit. This is probably part of the lawsuits at each meeting and the work is entrusted to the popular forces. Honestly, this seems to me very nice. What better than using any capacity to get new people the opportunity to be here?

Some were single and Tuk's kids, and the others helped to reject the population sooner and go down the way. It was as if everyone was imagining themselves, and it was very difficult for them to be up with the baby so many times, but at the same time they were interested in seeing the child at this age.

It was at 9 o'clock when I finally rejected the second read and entered that lovely courtyard. All the cells of my body wanted tea, but the cake and mineral water tables were loudly not news of tea. Fasting didn't eat with me either. I had to pick up the pancake. I knew there was no food until noon, and I had to stand up. I hurriedly put my shoes on the counters. “Let her get into the bag and close her,” said Ms. Ghafar. Put your pancake too. Don't let you get inside! ” I stuck the pancake as well as the famine and promised to finish the next line and not go inside!

My side girl was asking her friend with a Qomjah, is this the last line or again? Another who was experienced replied, “Another is left!” The little girl laughed and said of her restless taste, how much she had been to have a quota and give her family and family a lot of money! Now he was worried that he would not get a good place in this crowd and not see the gentleman.

I rejected this queue and the next queue in the same conversation, and finally my leg reached those blue zils. The previous time I came to meet the ladies, and the blue was combined with the walls of the walls. This time, however, the curtains and columns had eye -catching green. There was a lot of humidity. Often they had an angle of view and calculated with themselves how much they were going to see. As you went back, the worries were more concerned, and some eyes were so wet from their grief. One, however, was weeping for tears. It came from Ilam. It was forty years old. I asked if there was a problem? “It's so hard!” I went a lot! I only saw her on TV for a lifetime and wished it to see it closely. Now this cup but these pillars don't leave. ” Two or three people were trying to give him a better place. They were, of course, worried.

But I was looking for paper and pen. I took myself in front of Husseiniyah and finally I got two sheets of paper and a blue automatic! Like a fish, I started, and I quickly recorded the things I had seen until that moment. I hit the sitting and walking between the crowd! Some were surprised to see the paper in my hand and ask how did you bring it? Can you give us a piece? I was ashamed of my inability to get a woman from the executive staff. It made it easy for them to write and deliver as much as they wanted after the visit.

A little bit of my shame and I continued to rotate. The sound was coming from above. I saw my head up and I saw those who arrived later on the upper floor balcony and were involved in sitting better or standing. What is the task of vision behind the chants? The same common concern that was echoing Husseiniyah everywhere!

In front of the balcony on the green banner, this simple sentence had taken my eyes: “The teacher makes a human.” And he had taken over a few words of my brain. And his instruments were now gathering in this Husseiniyah and were taking a moment to see their leader's face, as if at that moment nothing was more important to them than sitting.

I came back to the parliament again! I was looking at the boys in front of me, with their uniforms known that they were going to sing the anthem. At the same time, my shoulder sat on my shoulder: “Hi! I'm a wise man! Deputy Minister. Where should I sit down? ” Hello, I grant her warm and said, “For you that she must be in front.” He said, “No! My legs are in trouble and I can't sit down. If there is a chair, I sit down. ” One of the elders saw him and came to make him somewhere. I looked at the seats, which were often the older ones. They were comfortable from the angle of view! At the end of the row of seats, however, the middle -aged lady was sitting calm, and her widespread smile would not fade for a moment. His clear calm dragged my feet in front of the same chair, and I talked to him: “Are you a teacher?” He turned his head, “Yes! My exceptional school teacher! I teach the Qur'an. ” His handmade colleague said the keeper of the Qur'an is the keeper of the Qur'an and has a lot of background and rank. I asked what? He replied with the same smile, “My mother … she was illiterate, but she did her best to study. Finally, I was able to memorize the Quran, go to college, become a teacher and now be here! ” I asked what it felt? “I'm so happy!” Seeing sir was my wish and now I got it! ” That a blind woman was saying to see my astonishment. Perhaps he was the only guest of this Husseiniyah, who was not worried about the angle of his meeting at that moment, and he was sure to see the gentleman and bring him this head … He was as if he saw more of all the eyes we had …

The moment of the arrival of the gentleman was approaching and it was no longer possible to look. I found a place to sit in the middle of the crowd! I saw the angle I was too good, but I kept looking for the same blind lady and her smile. The same as the curtain went away and all the Husseiniyah was thrilled. The sound of the slogans was loud, and someone beside Mashallah's hand and tears. The sound of crying was combined with taste and the slogans continued. Aqa sat on his chair after a good thanks and, as he looked at the crowd, turned his head to the Qur'an. Read by hand. The voice of Bismillah rose and the crowd calmed down. I was looking at the gentleman who gave all his mind to the Qur'an and as if there was no news except reciting those verses in Husseiniyah. Qari continued, “Nun … Valiqol … and Mi Meshdrone …” Wow, Hassan Election! My eyes turned to the automatic side in my hand and the words I had recorded. Now I loved that blue Qian and that semi -crushed paper more than ever before …