The Red Head Beggar Girls
There was poverty in Iran, when we lived there. I suppose there still are. The more privileged population felt beholden to help the less fortunate. There was no government system to assist the poor. We all aided the people who worked for us and their families. We gave alms to the needy. If we had leftovers after a meal, we had special bowls filled with food left outside our homes. At our home, the bowls of food were placed underneath the shade of a tree by the stream that ran beside it. Most people were aware of the plight of the poor and made sure to leave food for them.
One summer afternoon, I noticed three young girls with bright red hair coming around. Their heads were bare, their long hair neatly braided down their backs. They were clean and pleasant to look at. They came frequently, sat under the tree’s shade, and took some food back to share with their families. Their behavior touched my heart, and I marveled at their self-control and dignity in the face of hunger.
As the seasons changed, they wore sheepskin vests to keep warm in the cold. I became attached to them, giving them clothes and warm fabrics from the bazaar. Eventually, winter became too harsh to feed them outside, so I asked our housekeeper, Nargess, to feed them inside, despite her disapproval.
Time passed, and my family moved to the United States. When we returned to Tehran, the revolution had begun, and the girls had stopped coming for food. The country was in turmoil, and we decided to leave. Lost in the upheaval, I forgot about the red-headed sisters, Nargess, and the others. Years later, I wondered about their fates, feeling a lingering affection towards them from a different time and world.