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    Returning Home: Based on a true story
    Returning Home: Based on a true story
    Returning Home: Based on a true story
    Ebook49 pages44 minutes

    Returning Home: Based on a true story

    By Saeed Habibzadeh

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    About this ebook

    Saeed encounters a beggar and gives him some bread to eat. This is the beginning of a friendship that Saeed will never forget. The beggar recounts his tale of hardship.

    The story is illustrated with beautiful drawings.
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherXinXii
    Release dateSep 12, 2014
    ISBN9783958303874
    Returning Home: Based on a true story

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      Book preview

      Returning Home - Saeed Habibzadeh

      Saeed Habibzadeh

      RETURNING HOME

      Based on a true story

      Returning Home

      Translated from the German by Gitta Wolf

      All rights reserved. No part of this book – text or images – may be utilized in any way, shape or form without prior written permission of the author. This includes any kind of electronic utilization

      Author: Saeed Habibzadeh

      Cover illustration: Saeed Habibzadeh

      Illustrations, layout and design: Samuel Schwarzkopf

      Copyright: 2014 Saeed Habibzadeh, www.saeed.eu

      Contact: saeed@saeed.eu

      ISBN: 978-3-95830-387-4

      Verlag GD Publishing Ltd. & Co KG, Berlin

      E-Book Distribution: XinXii

      www.xinxii.com

      logo_xinxii

      Returning Home

      My mother rarely had the opportunity to take a break. She always had things to do. From morning till nightfall she cleaned, washed, did the shopping, cooked, washed the dishes, and sewed. My two sisters helped her wherever possible. I was the only one of her five sons who voluntarily helped with the household chores. I liked to, especially to take some of the burden off my mother.

      She always got up early to go and buy fresh herbs, vegetables, and fruit. This had to be done first thing because by eight o'clock everything would be sold out. In those days, there were no ready-made meals or frozen herbs and vegetables. If you got to the store after seven o'clock, you were at the end of the long queue and you might not get anything other than the things the others hadn't wanted, or even nothing at all. That's why she had to get up very early to be there before breakfast. I adored my mother and paid attention to her even without being asked. I watched her closely, and that's how I learned how she carried out all the tasks she had to do. And so I was able to help her with washing, cleaning, cooking, and doing the dishes, as far as it was physically possible for someone who was still quite little,and I could also help by fetching the bread.

      In summer it was always hot, especially at midday, and no one felt like leaving the house to run any errands, especially not when they involved buying freshly baked hot bread. But I didn't want to leave my mother to have to do all this by herself and wanted to help her with this, too. To me, it was dishonourable to send my sisters or my mother off by themselves to run such errands, especially since there were five boys in our family. But my brothers didn't share those feelings, which is why I always volunteered when the others had made themselves scarce. The bakery wasn't exactly around the corner, and for a small boy like me, just six years old at the time, fetching bread sometimes was a real challenge.

      The type of bread I was asked to fetch depended on the kind of meal our mother had cooked. Sometimes I had to walk a long way because, if the queue at one bakery was too long, I'd have to walk to another one where I would be able to buy a particular type of bread. This was sometimes necessary because the bakeries only ever prepared a set quantity of dough so there wouldn't be too much wastage, since people only wanted to buy freshly baked bread. If any bread was left over, it would just be wasted. When this happened, the bakery staff would eat it, or they would give it away to beggars or people in need. I knew from past experience that a long queue meant a good chance that, by the time it was my turn, there wouldn't be anything left. I had no way of knowing how much bread

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