The tale of the tailor and the boy.

Nasrin. Not a typical American name because it's not. Nasrin was born in "Persia"; otherwise known as Iran. She didn't want to be judged by Americans and she didn't want to be seen by her fellow countrymen, so when any one not from an Arabic state asked her where she was from, she answered "Perisa". When someone from Iran needed a suit tailored she wouldn't come out of the shop to talk to them. She was embarrassed and didn't want people from her country to see her. Nasrin came from a family that was once the rulers of her country. I'm not sure of the connection (because I can't remember what she said) but her husband was related to the sha of Iran, Mohammad Reza Shah Pahlavi. He was overthrown as the ruler of Iran in 1979 by the  Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini. A radical Islamic leader.

After the toppling of the the government her families life's were in serious danger. Her oldest child, a son, was a commander in the Air force. He was executed by the new government troops. The had to sell everything that they had to flee the country. They paid $250,000 in bribes in order to secure their escape.

Once they made it to the United States they had no work and no marketable skills. Nasrin had graduated from college with a degree in accounting but it was of no value in the U.S. Her husband was a career military man and also had no skills to get a job. Neither one of them spoke English.

Nasrin took a job pressing clothes at a dry cleaning shop where she began an unofficial apprenticeship as a tailor. Eventually she learned English and moved with her family from Texas to Utah because they had family here.

She told me that it was very difficult for her to go from having servants that did everything for her, (including dressing her) to having to fend for herself in a foreign country.

When they arrived in Utah, her husband a once powerful Military officer, was now a partner with his cousin at a restaurant in the eatery in the mall. From giving orders, to taking them.

Nasrin and her husband worked hard and very long hours. Their oldest daughter was in college, their youngest daughter was now in High School. A large portion of their income went to send their oldest daughter through school. She was in medical school where she was studying to become an opthomologist. They had spent thousands and thousands of dollars on her education. Money that they didn't put away for their retirement. Money not tucked away for a special vacation.

The money spent on their daughter, eventually on both of their daughters, was not money squandered, nor was the money given freely. Oh, there wasn't interest paid on the money but they did have an interest in the money and their daughters because the money was given with clear expectation that their daughters would take care of their parents when they were no longer able to take care of themselves.

Now, since I am getting closer to the age when I may not be able to take care of myself this arrangement seems like it has it's advantages but that's not where I want to go with this discussion. The observation that I had was that the apparent self-sacrifice of Nasrin and her husband was not so charitable as I had imagined since there were very clear benefits to their generosity. In fact there support of there daughters was self-serving more than self-sacrifice. The tuition and support was made to comfort their fear of their inability to take care of themselves in there old age.

This got me to thinking about self-sacrifice. What appears to be selfless, is actually quite selfish. My wondering mind asked itself, "How often does that happen ?".

I remember the news several years ago about a group of Boy Scouts and their leaders hiking through the narrow slot canyons of Zion National Park. An area known as The Narrows. They had repelled into the canyon with ropes and harnesses with plans to walk the 15 miles or so, out of the narrow canyons. After several hours into their hike, many miles away from the sunny blue skies where they hiked, there was a sudden intense thunderstorm. Rain came down in buckets and pelted the parch desert landscapes of sandstone. Much of the water was routed into the gulley's and washes established millenia ago and maintained over the centuries by wind, sandstone, gravity and storms just like this one.

It didn't take long for thousands of gallons of water to pour into the deep canyons created by the unrecorded lineage of preceding storms. Soon the group of scouts noticed the crystal clear ankle deep water was now to there knees and for their leaders to notice the water now looked the color of chocolate milk. They recognized the signs of an oncoming flash flood.

The leaders scrambled, ushering the group of boys up the sides of the steep and rugged sandstone cliffs that enveloped the canyon. There weren't too many places of refuge since the water had worn most of the soft sandstone away long ago. The leaders knew that they didn't have much time but they also knew that they didn't have to go very much further either. The flood would come quickly and then leave about as hurriedly as it came and they only needed to escape from twelve to fifteen foot deep water. 20 feet up the sides of the cliff was as far as they needed to go.



As the water screamed past, a whirl pool formed in front of the boys and branches from the trees whirled around the huge eddy and slowly disappeared under the chocolate colored water before continuing its rapid journey down the canyon. In an instant soft rock gave way as the water eroded it and one of the boys foot holds was gone. Before anyone could grab him he fell into the water screaming for help. The young man tried in vain to grab the side of the canyon as his leaders looked on. Without hesitation his scoutmaster leaped into the water. He grabbed the young boy and held on with one arm while he grabbed anything else he could with the other. In seconds they were swept under the water by the current and were gone. Their bodies were found later miles down the canyon.

Remembering this event I wonder; Why did the scoutmaster jump into the water? He didn't have a rope, a life jacket, or a prayer in saving the life of the boy, yet he jumped. Why? Was it truly selfless act? Let's change the story a little and examine that question.

What would have happened if that scoutmaster had not jumped in? The young man would still have drowned but now the boys leader would have to face the young mans parents and explain the death of their son. He would then have to live with himself for the rest of his life knowing that he didn't do anything to help the young man in his care. I would argue that the ultimate motivation for the scoutmaster to jump into the water was selfishness. He couldn't live with himself if he hadn't. The guilt was so tremendous that he died trying to avoid it.

This brings me to one last thought, before I go to bed. Change the story again. This time as the boy falls in the whirling water he screams for help. The scoutmaster sees that the boy is in serious trouble and he only has seconds to act. He remembers the rope in his backpack. Before he can get to it, the boy screams for help again, "Jump, jump, please just jump!!" he cries.

The boy in the water is aware that anyone that jumps into the water is doomed to drown. He'd stood on the cliff side and watched the branches become engulfed, yet he hollers for help anyway. Who is being selfish now?