A cold wind was blowing and wiping the bare branches of the trees. Zuhre could not bear the cold any more, so she got up and ascended the stairs. After stepping on the balcony she turned her head back and gave a glance colder than that of winter to the yard. A yellow thing resting on the white snow of the garden caught her attention “O’ God! What is it in the garden?” she thought. She walked down the stairs towards the garden. It was a canary.
“I hope it is alive.” She wished. She picked it up and held the half-dead body of the canary between her palms. “It is alive!” she shouted happily. Then she ran her delicate fingers into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief embroidered with a beautiful rose bud and wrapped the canary in it and hurried up the stairs smoothly.
“O’my yellow canary! What are you doing here? You have surely escaped from your cage” She addressed it. She looked at the sky. The last edge of the crimson color was leaving the west of the world and a light snow had begun. The wind was throwing the bits of snow against the walls and the trees. Zuhre opened the wooden door of the room, entered it and closed the door behind herself.
The warm and pleasant temperature in the room freshened the bird. She found a small carton box and placed it by the stove and covered its bed with a piece of warm woolen cloth under and of cotton over it and placed the canary in it. After a few moments the little bird was warm and began moving, then opened its eyes. A smile of satisfaction appeared on Zuhre’s lips.
The samovar was boiling on a small table. Zuhre bent her head down to the canary and murmured, “Why did you come here? Certainly you knew I am also alone, but you should know that my loneliness will not last long. The doctors say that I will never make recovery from my disease. My illness is in an advanced state. The doctors are disappointed. I’ve got really tired. I’m leaving very soon. You shouldn’t come here. You should have gone somewhere else wherein there is happiness rather than grief. A canary should sing a happy song not a sad one. Canary is a symbol of happiness.” Then she sorrowfully continued, “You know! In my house a crow is needed to cackle, since I’m dying. In the spring of youth, I have to bid farewell. Then Abbas will remain alone. I feel sad for him. Do you know why? Because I love him very much. I know that he did not like to do it. Now he is very sad. He apologized to me for it. He is not to be blamed. He did it unwillingly. When we were moving to this house, I was sitting and arranging goods and chattels. Abbas was carrying a table into the room. He didn’t see me and hit the corner of the table at my head. There was an ache in my head. At first I didn’t take it seriously, but it grew more severe. O’ the canary! Your heart is so much small. How can it bear such an excessive grief?”
Zuhre got up to go to the kitchen. The canary flapped its little wings as if it had understood her words and wanted to advise her not to get disappointed and leave the cage of disappointment just as it had left its cage and remain as a friend of it.
While carrying a tray with a cup of tea in it Zuhre murmured, “Why doesn’t this headache leave me comfortable?” She left the tray by the samovar and held her head tightly with her hands, “O’ God! I’ve become weary. Please give me coup de grace!” Her eyesight grew dim and she felt dizzy and nauseous, so she went to the bed and laid her head on the pillow and cried loudly. Not long after a voice was heard. Abbas who had returned home from work entered the room. He looked at the cold walls of the room. The sorrowful atmosphere in the home caused by his wife’s headache depressed him. As his carelessness was the cause of such a disaster, he felt sad and was shameful of Zuhre. He left his bag in a corner and called,“ Zuhre….! Zuhre….!”
Hearing her husband’s voice she got up and went before the mirror. There she cleaned up the tears and despite having a headache she entered the living room with a smile on her lips.
“ Hello, Abbas! When did you return home? Come on! Sit down. Let me bring you a cup of tea.” She returned to the kitchen. While pouring the tea into the cup, she continued, “The weather is cold outside, isn’t it!” She tried not to look at Abbas directly for a long time so as to avoid her puffy eyes being seen by him. Abbas replied, “Yes, that’s right. It’s too cold.” Zuhre continued, “I have bought some milk for you. It’s good for your sore throat. I’ll bring it in a few moments.” Then she left the room. Abbas sat by the samovar table. He felt sorry for her. He didn’t know what to do. All of the physicians who had examined her had told that they could only trust in God.
While the man was thinking about his wife, a book under the samovar table attracted his attention. He picked it up and opened it. It would read, “Death is pleasant. We come to the world to experience it rather than staying in it. Death is a passage way towards freedom, escaping from the cage of body………” the erosion of the sheets indicated that the book was read over and over and that his wife was living in a psychological crisis.
The tears dropping down his eyes wet the pages and the word “death” was magnified with a drop of it. He closed the book. Zuhre entered the room with a glass of milk. Abbas said, “You had better not to work so much. It is not good for you. By the way, how is your health?” With a cold and superficial smile, Zuhre replied, “I’m well. See? This canary was chilling in the garden. I took it here and let it get warm. When it is Ok. We will let it fly away, but I will not remain alive by that time.” “What do you mean by that? You will get well. I’m sure. You should get well, for the sake of the baby. Please don’t think about death. Stop studying these kinds of books! Ok?”
“Abbas! We are not children. My illness is not a jest. It has advanced from 30% to 80%. You know I’m on the point of death.” Zuhre replied with quivering voice, “I’m only worried about our baby. I pray you to look after it well.”
The atmosphere of the room was filled with Zuhre’s sobbing. Abbas tried to calm her whereas he himself wished to burst into tears and tell his wife the words stuck in his heart. He wished to tell her how shameful of her he was and that without her, the life would be dim and happiness meaningless for him. He wished to tell her how his heart was pressed when he looked at her sad eyes. But he could tell none of them and he only could look at his wife’s painful face silently and tried to calm her. Each word of her broke him down. After a short dialogue both of them remained silent.
The eyes of both of them were drowned in the tears. “Zuhre, let’s go to the holy shrine and seek refuge of Imam Riza (A.S) once more” Abbas suggested eagerly. “No, I won’t go. I did it several times, but didn’t regain my health. Maybe I’m so sinful that I do not deserve his blessings” Zuhre replied. Abbas continued, “It’s not true. This time, by God’s will, we will be granted with our need. Imam Riza (A.S) is too kind. He never considers our bad deeds. If you agree, we will go tonight.”
That night they set off for the Haram. On the way Zuhre had a feeling of being comfortable, as if her husband’s words had alleviated her. When her attention was attracted by the golden dome, she felt even more comfortable.
The man’s need was wrapped in his look and sent to Imam Riza’s (A.S) holy shrine. His heart was pressed with grief and he felt that without Imam Riza’s (A.S) help, such a destructive sorrow would break him down. “O’ Imam Riza (A.S)! My wife has lost endurance. She is suffering pain night and day. I beg you, dear Agha to grant her Shifa. You stood surety for a deer! You who were so kind to a deer lamb surely are kind to my baby, too, so I beg you to grant my wife’s health and let her bring up her own baby in her own arms. O’ Imam Riza (A.S)! Please bring to an end my wife’s discomfort” he murmured. While her eyes were making ablution with tears.
The celestial sound of reciting the holy Qur’an echoing in the courtyards touched the pilgrims’ mind gently. Abbas was surprised when he glanced at Zuhre. How had it happened that without taking medicine she had fallen asleep? Her sorrowful and innocent face looked kinder than before.
The man’s eyes were filled with tears. He begged the Imam (A.S) not to return them empty- handed this time. When he turned his head to his wife again, she had opened her eyes. She excitedly asked, “Where did the Khadim go?” “Which Khadim?” Abbas asked.
Zuhre felt that for a pleasant and golden moment all atoms of her existence were illuminated with the radiance of the light of the eighth sun of the heaven of Imamate (S.A). “Zuhre! Why are you so excited?” Abbas asked. Zuhre replied, “For a moment, I fell asleep. In my sleep, I dreamt that the Khoddam were sweeping and cleaning the courtyard. One of them whose visage was more luminous approached me and said, “Get up, please!” I replied, “I can’t.” For the second time, while tapping my feet gently, with the handle of the sweeper, he repeated, “Get up!” I grasped the end of the handle and got up.
A pleasant smile blossomed on the lips of the couple. They were frantic with joy. The world presented itself to them with all its beauties. Zuhre’s pains were washed away with the pure essence of Shifa. The mirrors of their hearts and gems of their eyes were glazed with tears of joy. At the moment when the fountains of excitement and gnosis flowed through their soul along with the fragrance of alloeswood and heavenly perfume, the best memory was engraved in their mind.
How beautiful was the heavenly melody played at that moment and how pleasant was the jug of Shifa received from the hands of the friend.
[1] Adopted from Haram periodical, the version allocaed to Shifa Yaftagan (those healed miraculously) in Farsi, and translated into English by the author.
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