written by
Claire Jobert
Illustrated by
Hadi Mohammadian
written by
Claire Jobert
Illustrated by
Hadi Mohammadian
A Happy Ending
In His Name
Written by: Claire Jobert
Illustrated by: Hadi Mohammadian
Layout design: Hamid Safara
Translated by: Fatimah T Sodagar
Edited by: Samira Zaidi Rizvi
Last year, Taahaa, Sarah, and I spent the summer at our
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grandfather’s house. While we were there, Grandpa would
tell us a story about one of our Imams before bed each
night. The stories always began the same way:
“Once upon a time, long, long ago…”
“Did Imams only exist in the old days, Grandpa?” Sarah
asked one night.
Hearing their stories, I also used to think how lucky the
people were who were there at the time of our Imams.
“What about us?” Taahaa asked. “You mean Allah hasn’t sent
any Imam for our time?”
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“Of course He has,” Grandpa replied. “Each and every one
of our Imams is a guide for all people, of all times, and all
places. But we also have our own very special Imam. I’ll tell
you his story when we go to the woods tomorrow.”
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The next afternoon, we all piled into Grandpa’s car, and set
off to the woods. “Tell us the story Grandpa!” Sarah said
excitedly, as soon as the car pulled out of the driveway.
“Yes, Grandpa! Tell us the story about the Imam of our time.
You promised!” Taahaa and I chimed in.
So Grandpa began. “Once upon a time, long long ago, there
was a boy named Mahdi…”
Sarah frowned. “But Grandpa,” she whined, “why did you say,
‘long, long ago,’ again!”
Grandpa laughed gently. “Because,” he said, “the story of
the Imam of our time also started ‘long, long ago’! And it
continues to this very day.”
How interesting! I thought. I had heard lots of things
about “Imam Zaman” before. But I never wondered why
they called him that. Then, Grandpa began telling the story
of the birth of Imam Zaman, which took place more than
a thousand years ago. “Wow!” Taahaa exclaimed. “So that
means the Imam is more than a thousand years old, right
Grandpa?”
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Sarah’s eyes were round with surprise.
I looked at Grandpa’s face through the rear-view mirror. He
was smiling. “That’s right, children. Since we aren’t used to
anyone living that long, it seems a bit strange.
But it’s not, really.”
“But Grandpa,” Sarah asked, “how does he fit so many
candles on his birthday cake?” We all laughed out loud.
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Grandpa parked the car close to the woods, and we all
jumped out of the car, laughing happily. As we walked
through the woods, Grandpa pointed out some flowers
growing along the path. “Look how beautiful they are!” He
exclaimed. “But they will wither and dry out very soon. God
has created these flowers with very short lives. They only
live for a few days.”
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We walked on, until we reached a large tree, further
into the woods. Grandpa threw a rope over a strong
branch on the giant tree, and made us a swing. Then
he asked us, “Now, don’t you think, that if Allah
wanted to, He could create a special flower that
could live much longer than other flowers, maybe
even a few months?”
Taahaa laughed. “Of course He could! Why would you
ask that, Grandpa. That would be easy for Him. He
can do anything!”
That’s what I thought, too.
Grandpa lifted Sarah up onto the swing. “Now,”
he continued, “If Allah wanted to create a special
person, who could live much longer than other
people, don’t you think He could do that, too?”
Taahaa laughed again. “Of course!” He replied.
“Does that mean Imam Zaman is special, Grandpa?” I
asked.
“Very special?” Sarah called, as Grandpa pushed her
high on the swing. Grandpa smiled.
“Yes, children.
Because he is our last Imam,
he must live a long time,
to save the world
from evil.”
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We all took turns sitting on the swing
and letting Grandpa push us. “Allah gave our last Imam a
very long life,” Grandpa continued, “so that our world is
never left without a guide.”
That was when I finally understood, we really have our own,
very special, Imam.
I had never thought about it that way before.
I told Grandpa what I was thinking. “That’s right, Huda dear.
Allah has made a promise to us in the Quran, that He will
never leave us without a guide.
Allah always keeps his promises.”
In that moment, I felt something stir in the bottom of my
heart, something bright, and warm,
like a shining star.
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That day we got to swing for a long time, and listen to
Grandpa’s beautiful stories. We even pushed him on the
swing, and all of us laughed together.
It finally began getting dark, and Grandpa took down the
swing. Then he looked up at the tree, and patted its rough
bark. “Look children,” he said. “This tree has lived a very
long life. It was born long, long ago, and is still alive. It’s
probably hundreds of years old.”
Then Grandpa took a few pictures of us next to the tree, to
send for our parents.
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When we got back into the car, Taahaa and Sarah were too
I had so many questions to ask, but I just asked one. “What
tired to ask any more questions. They tried hard to stay
happens next, Grandpa?”
awake, to listen to me and Grandpa talk.
“Well,” he began, “the story of Imam Zaman
continues, Huda dear. We don’t know for
how long. But Allah, and the Prophet, and our
Imams, have all promised that this story has a
beautiful, happy ending. One day, Imam Zaman
will rise, and fill the world with good.”
The gentle rocking of the car had put Taahaa
and Sarah to sleep. I still had that warm
feeling in my heart, as I watched the bright
stars in the night sky. My eyes felt heavy, and
my heart was full of hope, as I thought about
the happy ending of Imam Mahdi, and prayed
for him to return soon.
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