Close Friend

Carpentry Workshop – From Left to Right Mr. Ali (workshop owner), Mr. Ahmadi (coworker and Close buddy), Myself, Mr. Abbasi (Taxi driver and my running buddy from school time)

Close Friend- Written by Nader Musavi- 13 February 2014

Some colored boards were needed for the side of the library shelf. I talked to my carpenter neighbor about it. He didn’t own colorful boards, and they were also too expensive. I was thinking to find a solution, and suddenly I thought of a former colleague and a friend of mine, Mr. Ahmadi, who had gone on to work as a modern carpenter.

I called him and he kindly said, “Come to the workshop. Choose any board that you’d think will be useful for the library. Mr. Abbasi has been by my side almost everywhere during these years since the establishment of the school. We went to Goldasteh (where the workshop is located) together by his old white car. Seeing his car reminded me of the famous “Mash Mamdali” car that had neither a horn nor a proper seat! Mr. Abbasi, while passing through the alleys of the neighborhood, talked about his youthful friendships and cycling with the local girls and playing hide and seek with them in the same alleys. He was sad about the lost youth and the things he did and didn’t do! It was a beautiful green neighborhood. We arrived after about ten-minute drive. Mr. Ahmadi was waiting in the alley wearing his usual smile. We went into the workshop, which was a large old yard. On one side of the workshop, I chose two colorful boards from the many ones that were there.

He took the boards to the cutting machine and cut and categorized all of them according to the size I said, with speed, accuracy and skill. Then we loaded the boards into Mr. Abbasi’s car. When I wanted to pay for the boards, he refused to accept the money and said it was a small gift from him to the school library. Mr. Ali, the owner of the workshop, who was a young and friendly man, insisted that whenever I needed carpentry services for school, I shall go directly to him. I thanked them and we took this photo as a remembrance, although the workshop was a bit dusty and the photo does no have high quality.

It should be noted that after the establishment of the school in the summer of 2000 by Mr. Moradi, Mr. Ahmadi was one of those who joined the school a few months after its establishment. Before I  join, Mr. Qudratullah Afshar and a while later, Mr. Mohammad Haidar Yaghoubi, were among the other people who started working with the school.

Mr. Mohammad Nasim Ansari also collaborated with the school for a short time in the early days. Mr. Mohammad Nasim Ghazizadeh, who was a teacher for middle school children, as well as teaching teachers with Mr. Yaghoubi. Dr. Zavari and Mr. Ali Momeni, a talented artist, were blessings to the school. At the end of the year, Mr. Seyyed Ali Mousavi, as well as Hajj Mr. Seyyed Hossein Ali Mousavi joined the group of friends, and later Mr. Habibollah Khalili and Mr. Javad Saberi also joined the team.

In the early years of its establishment, each of these friends worked hard day and night with the least expectation to improve the school and establish its position.  One of these people was Mr. Ahmadi, who, in addition to cooperating and  supporting the managing team in the general administration of the complex, he has also managed the  day shift of the school, taught in the middle school classes, held Quran classes for children and taught night shifts for adults with a great perseverance and patience.

Undoubtedly, in the history of the school’s activities and during his presence, Mr. Ahmadi was one of those who made great efforts to promote the school and educate the children, although at the end of his career he faced some challenges and left school with a sad heart. Wherever these friends are, I hope they’re healthy and I hope they’re having a good life.

And of course, I would still write about the history of the school and these friends, “detailed” and “desirable”! Although I have written a lot, because without a doubt this will be my last task on this issue, and otherwise, if I die, as the old saying goes, my hand will be out of the grave to the wrist and maybe to the elbow or maybe even up to the armpits!

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