Agha Bozorg and the Toy Box

It was afternoon, and I had just come home from school. I’d had a science exam that day and hadn’t done well at all. Upset and frustrated, I sat in a corner of the yard throwing pebbles into the pool in the middle. Agha Bozorg came in, saw my face, and asked, “What happened, son? Why are you upset?” “Nothing, Agha Bozorg. I messed up my science exam. I stayed up late last night praying it would be easy and I’d know the answers, but that rotten teacher made it really hard.” “Praying? You prayed?” “Yes. Khanom Bozorg always said God gives you whatever you ask for.” “Didn’t she tell you to ask God for the ability to do it?” I had no answer. “I have to go out now,” he said, “but come to my workshop in three days. We can make something together, if you’d like.” A few days passed, and I still felt bad. I felt incapable, stupid, as if I couldn’t understand my lessons. I went to see him. In the workshop he had switched off every light except the desk lamp. There were a few pieces of wood and some screws on the table. “Sit here and make a box for your toys with these pieces of wood.” It looked exciting. I sat down, picked up the pieces, moved them this way and that, and asked, “How?” “With the screws, of course.” “But I don’t have a screwdriver.” “So you need tools. You can’t do it with your bare hands.” He switched on the room light. A toolbox was sitting a little farther down the table. I searched it and found a screwdriver. But however long I looked, I couldn’t tell where to put the screws or which piece to fasten to which. “I can’t do it, Agha Bozorg,” I said in frustration. “I don’t know how. I’m not a carpenter. I can’t do anything.” He smiled. “There’s a sheet of paper in the top drawer showing how to build the box.” I opened the drawer and found clear diagrams. I got to work, joining one piece to the next. I could hardly believe I was building a nice box without Agha Bozorg’s help. When I finished, he said, “See? You can do it. “Remember, every task and every success needs tools. More important still is knowledge. A book is a tool for you; what you learn from it becomes your knowledge. You could have prayed for a hundred nights and that box still wouldn’t have built itself.” My compatriot, my friend, a part of my own flesh: our national revolution won’t win if we sit and pray, or if we merely take comfort, watch, and believe. You and I must draw strength from the tools of determination and unity. With what we know today, and what we’ll learn tomorrow, we can build the box that holds Iran’s freedom. Through our own determination and strength, we will win this struggle. Long live the Shah.