Ayatollah Khamenei Visits
The Family of Martyr Zurik Moradian
Visit Date: 17/2/2011
The Photo of
Martyr Zuric Moradian
Martyred in Piranshar, West Azarbaijan
Martyred on 11/10/1980
My husband and I never preferred sons to daughters. We believed that children were the gifts of God whether boys or girls. Of course, as a mother I wish I could have children of both sexes. This did not realize until 1960. Up to then I had given birth to 3 daughters. Now the fourth child was a boy; a handsome boy like her sisters. We named him Zurik.
I never found out if my husband loved him more than others because he never showed it. I found out about his depth of feelings for Zurik when, immediately after his martyrdom, he had a heart attack from which he never recovered. Other heart attacks followed and he was bed-ridden at home for some 16 years before he passed away.
I and my four daughters loved Zurik immensely. He was a very smart and studious boy. In all his years of education, he was always the best student in his classes. He was successful in the university entrance examinations. He even won a scholarship to go and study abroad. But he did no go.
He said: I don’t want to go abroad, I went to first put on a soldier uniform and serve my own country.
But his father said: I never allow my only son to be a soldier. He, however, managed to obtain our consent for doing his military service. He started his military service some 9 months before Saddam Hussein invaded Iran.
He finished his 3-month training course in Shahroud and he then telephoned to say that he is to go to Urumia by train to continue his service.
When he was going to Urumia, we were nearing Easter and so I together with his father and sisters went to this city; we carried fruits, various nuts and painted eggs to celebrate Easter with him. But we could only see him once as the soldiers had to be on some sort military emergency. So we had to go back. But a few days later we received a letter from him. He wrote: Thank you very much mother, my friends in our garrison ate everything you had brought, even the coloured eggs! I thank you again. After a while he was transferred to Piranshahr, very near the Iraqi border. His father who was a truck-driver often went there to meet him. And Zurik, when he came to us on leave, told us how popular he was with his Muslim comrades.
He was in his 9th month of service when the war started.
The Baathist government of Iraq (the Baath Party was established in Iraq on the basis of nationalism and racism and anti-Islamism; the party came to power through a military coup) invaded Iran. It was then that I began to worry about him. 
I knew he was a courageous person and would volunteer for any hard task; I said to myself that he would most probably be a martyr, some 15 days after the war, I had a bad dream: I saw that a bullet had hit his knee, but he said ‘It’s nothing important, mother.’ I screamed and woke up.
In the morning I went out shopping. I noticed that a soldier was talking to some of our Muslim neighbours. I was thinking of Zurik and so I prayed that God will keep these soldiers alive for their parents.
At that moment our neighbours pointed at me and the soldier said: Salaam, excuse me, are you Zuric Moradian’s mother.
First I was happy because I thought that perhaps he has some news or a letter from Zurik and I said: Yes, my son, I’m his mother, are you a friend of his?
The soldier, noticing my cheerful mood, lowered his head; he had a letter in his hand and asked me in a trembling voice: Excuse me, mother, isn’t his father around?
When he said this, I remembered the dream I had the night before. The whole world was now turning around. I sensed that my son had been martyred. I screamed and fell down on the ground in the street.
It was only the 19th day into the war and now my husband and I had become the parents of the first Armenian-Christian soldier-martyr!
Zurik’s martyrdom was most unexpected not only for us but also for our neighbours who were mostly Muslim. Many gathering were held for him in all Armenian Churches and even in the mosques in our residential district of Heshmatiye.
All his comrades who participated in these mourning gatherings told us about his high morale, his cheerfulness and friendliness; he did always gave us more spiritual strength by his kindness and constant smiles.
When I returned home from a mourning session, the postman brought me a letter from Zurik, written the day before his martyrdom. He wrote: Dear mother, I’m fine, don’t you worry about me. After my military service is over, I am going to have a shop and work hard, I won’t let my father continue driving trucks and later we’ll buy a bigger house and… He had given me all sorts of hope.
A few weeks after Zurik’s martyrdom, the commander of his garrison came to see us. As Piranshahr was a cold province, I had already woven some thick shawls, socks and caps for him. I gave all these to this commander. He said: what shall I do with these, mother? And I told him: give it to one of the soldiers, for me they’re all zuriks.
My husband, however, could not stand the death of his only son; he had a heart attack and was hospitalized. After some time we took him back home but he was unable to work and had to lie in bed. Therefore I alone, without my son, had to face the problems of caring for this sick husband, the education of my daughters and the daily expenses.
After the martyrdom of my son, the district municipality decided to name our alley after Zurik’s name but my husband disagreed saying: I don’t want to see my son’s name each time I look up in the alley. Forty days after Zurik’s martyrdom, his close Muslim friend, Mohamad Gerami was martyred and so they named the alley after him.
During the 16 years when my husband was alive, many times he dreamt of Zurik. In his very last dream, Zurik had asked: Why don’t you make a move? And my husband had said: where to? Zurik had answered: Come to me, look, I have bought a big garden, look what wonderful red apples there are… Soon after this, my husband passed away. After his death, one of my daughters was sick with M.S. and for years I had to nurse her. I always thought that God is testing my faith through all these troubles and problems.
The visit
Now some 30 years have passed since Zurik’s martyrdom. I have already prepared everything to serve our guests; I sit on a chair and think of the memories of these long years, of all the hardships I faced. Despite all those adverse events, I am thankful to God who gave me strength to bear them all.
This evening I am somehow happy in my heart. Since Zurik’s martyrdom there have been very occasions when I was a little happy; rare occasions such as the weddings of my daughters and the birth of my grandchildren. Here and there I have heard that Ayatollah Khamenei has visited the families of Armenian martyrs but I never thought that one day he would take the time to come and visit me, because he is the Leader of Iran as well as the Leader to many freedom-loving Muslims throughout the world. How could he have the time to come and see me?
Now my daughter enters the room and says: the Ayatollah has arrived in our street and soon he’ll be here. I go to the entrance of the house because I want to be the first person to welcome him. Mr. Khamenei comes in smiling and cheerfully and warmly talks to me, to my daughters and my son-in-law. He says to me:
ـ Are you the martyr’s mother?
ـ Yes.
ـ And are you well?
ـ Thank you, I’m fine, you’re very kind.
ـ Well, I hope you’ll always be well.
I then say: Please come in, you are most welcome.
The Leader said: May God bless your martyr.
ـ Thank you very much.
Then the Ayatollah sat on the armchair and my son-in-law, my daughter and I sat down on a couch on his side. He says: My God almighty give you all patience and endurance, I was told that you have gone through many hardships.
Then I say: My son was the first Armenian martyr.
ـ Was he your only son?
ـ Yes, I have four daughters, he was my only son.
ـ I understand, and I heard that he was martyred during the first weeks of the war.
ـ Yes only 19 days after the war started, he was in Piranshar.
My heart beats fast and my mouth goes dry. Talking about Zurik, even after some 30 years, is still very difficult for me. All these years, I have not had the courage to cook the kind of food he liked. The pain of a mother is always fresh, especially because he was the only son and was very young.
The Leader doesn’t say anything for a few moments letting me be myself again. He then says: your reward is with God, lady.
I try hard and say: Thank you, I’m grateful.
The Leader points at a photo on the wall and asks:
ـ Is that his picture?
ـ Yes, yes.
Ayatollah Khamenei then tells us about the days of struggles against the Shah’s regime and the period he was imprisoned in the Qezel-Qala Prison.
He says: There I had become friends with an Armenian by the name of Avanessian. It was very interesting because he had volunteered to be in charge of our Islamic eulogy service for martyrs of the past.
I say: well, yes, we’re all Iranian. I myself go to the mosque and dedicate something for Imam Hussein.
The Leader adds: Apart from being Iranian, there is something else. I have noticed that Iranian Christian have a soft spot in their hearts for Imam Ali and Imam Hussein. This is different from being Iranian, because, as you know, there are Iranians who have no faith in such affairs, but our Christians are different.
My daughter who is sitting next to me says: Well, you know, Armenian have lived in Iran for many, many centuries and they have special affection for Imam Hussein.
The Leader reaffirms what my daughter said and added: Yes, our Armenian Community is well-versed in Islamic faith and they especially have good feeling towards the Shiite people.
Ayatollah then says: Well, here are one of your daughters and your son-in-law, where are the other daughters?
ـ One lives in Narmak district, far from us and the other who suffers from M.S. disease was sent abroad for treatment.
ـ My God almighty help her and heal her, the Leader says.
ـ Thank you. My other daughter has also travelled abroad; but two of them are here. And one of my grandsons, the son of my daughter present is now doing his military service.
The Leader then asks my son-in-law about this boy and he says: Yes, he has just completed his 3-month training course and is continuing his service.
And your occupation? The Leader asks.
ـ I’m a consulting engineer. I’ve worked in Abadan refinery, in oil, gas and petrochemical fields. According to one of our colleagues, we make deserts to prosper and then go back to some other place! I’ve been in Bandar Abbas, Isfahan, Ahvaz and Abadan.
ـ Your work concerned refineries?
ـ Yes regarding oil, gas and petrochemicals. I was also at Khan-Giran.
ـ In Khan-Giran?
ـ Yes, there’s a gas refinery there, altogether I worked for some 35 years. After 35 years I retired and for the last 5 years I’ve been active in the same fields.
While the Leader and my son-in-law go on talking, I and my daughter watch the Leader with fixed eyes, as if we still do not believe he is in our house and talking so warmly and intimately.
The Leader tells my son-in-law:
ـ The more service you perform your reward will be the higher, be strong and do good work for your country. Fortunately today we witness big progress in the expansion of refineries. The fact that we don’t have to import petrol is a great step forward. Today our production of Petrol exceeds the internal consumption, because in previous years we spent two, three and even six billion dollars in importing petrol. We have exported some quantities already. God willing, we will make more progress. And this is due to the activities of people like you. Such achievements echo in Iran and abroad. It has not only material benefits but helps the reputation of this country. In the past I often recommended to Iranian governments to build and expand refineries and each time they would talk of certain problems. Thank God this present government took it seriously and did a good job; of course they should also try their best for gas refineries.
Then my son-in-law told the Leader that certain projects in this respect are being carried out in Asaluye, in southern Iran.
Now I take some cake and dates, put them on a plate and offer them to Ayatollah Khamenei. I say: this kind of cookies are the specialty of Armenians and it’s called “Nazok”. I add: I was not sure if you would really visit us, otherwise I would have also prepared dinner.
This is fine, the Leader says and has his tea with a piece of cake, and continues his conversation with us and asks me if I have any occupation?
ـ No, I’m only a housewife, I work at home.
ـ What did your late husband do?
ـ He was a truck-driver. He was often driving throughout Iran. After the martyrdom of my son, he had a heart attack and was bedridden for some 16 years before he died. All these years I took care of him and nursed him. Then my daughter had the M.S. disease and I nursed her for some 10 years.
The Leader consoled me saying:
ـ wonderful. You’ve really suffered a lot during these years. Of course, these worldly sufferings will have their own rewards with God Almighty. No doubt God will recompense you vastly.
And I said: true, whatever is God’s will, I must be thankful and I am thankful.
We continued our intimate, friendly conversation with Ayatollah Khamenei and I wish that my other daughters would have been present in such a conspicuous meeting to see the Leader so closely.
Finally Ayatollah Khamenei said: Well, lady, I am very pleased to have met you and your relations. The Ayatollah then, while offering a gift to me, adds: This is a memory-sake; its material value is not to be considered.
I don’t know how to thank him by words. Anyway, we all say that we are really grateful to him for visiting us.
My son-in-law says: The fact that you, in spite of all your daily preoccupations, granted some of your time to us is a great kindness.
And the Leader: No, this is also a great task.
Well, I am delighted to have met him and I feel a sort of indescribable happiness.
The Leader’s last words were:
ـ I pray to God that if He will, you will be happy, successful and blessed by God Almighty, good bye.
Again something is choking me; this time it’s the departure of this kind Leader. I want to go out saying ‘good-bye’ to him again but his companions tell me not to do so.
I say: O.k. then let me see him going away from the window. It’s interesting that our neighbours, below us or over us, none have noticed the coming and going of Ayatollah Khamenei!
Then I only look at him going away and pray to God for his health and long years of his life with wet eyes and say in my heart: oh God, keep him safe.
