The Snowflake Chronicles

I�m Not Too Old To Have A Hero

Leading journal entry for "Invalid Item" 

I was born on December 24, 1946, this year I turn 60 and I’m not too old to have a hero. I’m not too old to have someone I can look to for inspiration and hope, when life kicks me in the teeth. My hero is a woman, a remarkable, beautiful, talented, brave, chaste, and spiritual woman. My hero is a mystic poet and writer, with the courage to say no to injustice, the integrity to challenge to traditions that hold her gender down, and the valor to both live and die for her beliefs. For the last 154 years, my hero’s body has lain at the bottom of a dry well in Tehran.

Born in 1817, in Qazvin, her parents named her Fátimih Zarrín-Táj; she is better known by Qurratu’l-‘Ayn (Solace of the Eyes) and Táhirih (Pure). In 1852, she died in Tehran, killed for her faith, and her body thrown into the well, which was than covered with stones. She left behind two bodies of works, Arabic prose and Persian poems.

I speak of her as if she is still alive, because she is; her soul roams the gardens of paradise. Her voice, in the form of her poems chanted in both their original language and translations reverberate across the Earth. Even her reputed last words - “You can kill me as soon as you like, but you cannot stop the emancipation of women.” - echo from soul to soul, proclaiming the equality.

In 1848, Táhirih, the only woman among the Bab’s disciples (called the Letters of the Living), attended a conference in Badasht, Persia. There she removed her veil in the presence of an assemblage of men and sent shock waves through the attendees.

Everyone, no matter how old or how young they are, should have a hero, who lives in their thoughts. Who inspires them to achieve despite the changes and chances of life.