Hamid was passing by the graves without any purpose and slowly he was trying to look at the graves' pictures even for a moment. He was wondering why nobody is in Behesht Zahra at all. He said to himself: Maybe it’s because it’s early in the morning, afternoon in sunset time or on Thursday or Friday, people will come here for sure.
Suddenly a sound in his heart told him: No, there is someone here. Hamid looked around but did not see anyone.
He said: no, there isn't anyone. Yes, there is someone, go further. He paced a little further. what were these inspirations? Who was commanding him? He didn't have an answer, nobody else knew either. He was not thinking about it at all, he just wanted to find someone. He passed over 3 lines of martyrs' graves, in his right he saw a woman with black veil only 20 paces from him.
She was covering herself completely. So, it was hard to see her face, Hamid was standing without any movement. He saw the woman alone there and thought: maybe she's here because of her son's grave. Is her son a martyr too? But it wasn't like that. That woman was moving very slowly but not like a normal human being. She was bowing and smelling the graves and began moving on her knees and went to the other grave looked at the martyr's picture and whispered to herself and stood on the grave in complete silence without a movement. Maybe she smelled it and started moving again and reached the others graves. The same way with the same manners!
Hamid said to himself: Are these 3 her sons? 3 martyr sons. Oh my GOD. He began to approach the woman very slowly and looked at the pictures. He was a handsome young man. That woman moved to the 4th grave. Oh my GOD. 4 sons?. No, no I can't believe it.
He followed her asking himself: where are you going? What is your business? I must ask her right now? Mother… Hamid was calling her with a shaking voice. The woman turned to him. Hamid was not in good condition. The woman was waiting for Hamid to say something. Hamid could not speak at all. The woman asked: what’s the matter my son? Mo… M…Mommy what is it? Hamid started crying, felt his heart drop. His tears were felling down. He felt his tears on his shirt more and more… mother. What is it my sons! speak to me!
Are these your sons? The woman moved her head slowly. Yes, my son. All of them are my sons. Hamid's knees were loosening. The woman looked at him, she found out he is not feeling well. She turned without saying anything. Hamid sat dawn on the ground slowly. The woman moved on and went away. A sound inside of Hamid was screaming at him: Hamid where are you? Who is she? Who were they? The woman went on the 5th grave and then 6th …, I don't believe it any more… Hamid ran to her and bowed in front of her.
Mother, did you have this many sons? All of them are martyrs? No, my son! I only had ONE son. His grave is over there. Mother, who are… What does it mean, smelling, and these thing you are doing… my son these are my sons too. No different than my own son. All of them are martyrs. Moslem martyrs. I am the mother of a martyr just like other mothers of martyrs. Should I not come to visit my own son's grave? No, no, what about the other young men? I must visit the other graves too. Because all of them are martyrs, This time if it is not too crowded here, I can come and visit (pilgrimage) here.
Mother, why like this?
My son told me to do so; He told me that he had promised if he could go to Karbala to move on his knees to Imam Hossein's tomb. He could not go, so I do the same here…
Please excuse me my son,
The woman left and Hamid was clenched fist. His fist opened again. There was not any thing which could stop him from crying. The woman was far from there. Hamid looked at the picture of martyr's which was in front of him. He was almost 1 "Asghar Rastegar" martyred place Karkheh. Beside the picture in a little frame it was parts of his testament, had a very beautiful hand writing, wrote " we all k