My Dad Arrived
A Jar of Jam - My Dad Arrived
I don’t know how Karbala went for four, f ive-year-old kids when their fathers went to battle and returned in pieces. I don’t know how they looked at the heads when they were being sent to the Levant, what did they tell their fathers, how did their mothers feel? It must have been pretty .tough. The kids are always an exception I remember one of our colleagues in Cooperation became a martyr. We went to deliver the news to Javadieh, Birjand with Imam Jome1 and a few people. We parked the car a little further and started to walk. When we got near the martyr’s house, a four or five-year-old kid jumped out and ran towards us with joy as soon as he saw us. “My dad is back, my dad is back!”, he yelled. Everyone got upset. He kept yelling and searching among us. T he next day, there was no need for the eulogist during the burial. Everyone cried .looking at the little boy’s numb look
