In 1961, we sold some land on a three-year installment plan. At that time, just like now, the economy had weakened, and transactions were stagnant; therefore, the buyers returned the lands and took back their money. For some, we had issued deeds and could not do anything further; they did not pay their installments. A few of us were partners in this venture; we divided the debts among ourselves, and I received several deeds. I had to wait until they could pay their debts whenever they were financially able. One of these debtors had bought 1200 square meters of land in New Karaj from us; he had paid a portion of the money and then disappeared without a trace.
After a few years, I found his address; he was living in Ab-e Garm, Hamedan. One day, accompanied by my father and Mr. Mehrabi, our notary, we set off to Hamedan, planning both to enjoy the hot springs and to collect our debt. We found his modest shop, where all the goods combined were worth no more than two thousand tomans. The poor man was astonished to see us; he invited us to his home for lunch, where he lived in dire conditions; we regretted going. Before we left, he said, “I am indebted and ashamed.” I replied, “As long as you’re unable to pay, you’re not in debt; Islam says ‘the bankrupt is in God’s protection.’ We should not harass someone who has nothing, they are under God’s protection. As long as you can take care of your family, we are happy; when you’re financially able, you become indebted, and that’s when you should pay your debt.” This man was not poor by choice; he had land, but there were no buyers. We returned feeling very pleased.
At that time, I owned a Willys Jeep. After driving a bit, Mr. Mehrabi asked to drive as he had recently learned how to; I didn’t want to refuse, so I gave him the keys. I sat in the passenger seat, and my father sat behind us. About five kilometers later, we entered a dirt road because the Ministry of Roads was repairing the main road. Mr. Mehrabi, driving too fast, entered the dirt road and suddenly braked; the car flipped over, trapping us underneath. Workers from the Ministry of Roads, working nearby, ran over and flipped the car back; astonishingly, none of us were hurt, not even a nosebleed. The car had a metal frame that stuck into the ground, preventing it from crushing us; it was still running when they flipped it back. I took the wheel again, and we continued. The weather was very cold, with strong winds and sandstorms. The car’s windows were shattered; I couldn’t see and had a hard time driving; somehow, I found a shop, bought glasses, wrapped my head, and we made our way back to Karaj. We left the car at a repair shop.
Two years passed from this incident. One day, while I was in the office, a man came in and introduced himself as Haj Agha Izadi, a trader from Tehran’s market. He asked, “Do you have a debt from someone in Ab-e Garm, Hamedan?” I said, “If he has, we’re the creditors; if not, then no.” Apparently, he had bought that debtor’s land for one hundred thousand tomans. He said, “I’ve come to pay your debt, and I’ve already paid him the rest earlier.” He asked for the installment receipts to make the payment. I pulled them out from the safe, but before handing them over, I removed a piece of paper. He thought it was related to that person and asked what it was. I said, “Nothing, just a will,” but he wanted to see it. I had written that “If I die, my heirs should not bother him; wait until his financial situation improves, and he can pay his debt.” Haj Agha Izadi, a very devout man, was impressed upon seeing the will; he gave me his address, inviting me to visit if I were in Tehran. It seems someone had recommended Ab-e Garm, Hamedan, to Haj Agha Izadi for treating leg pain. When he went there, he asked that very debtor about a mosque, who said there wasn’t one and took him to his house for prayer. Upon seeing his poverty, Haj Agha Izadi inquired about it, eventually buying his land, resolving his problem, and the rest of the story. Also, Haj Agha had built a mosque there before leaving. One should also pursue acts pleasing to God; one cannot always be after money. A person should care about the well-being of God’s creatures, “Show mercy, and you shall receive mercy.” If we had yelled and insulted him for not paying, we probably would have all died in that accident.