My Name Is Mahtob: The Story That Began the Global Phenomenon Not Without My Daughter Continues

by Mahtob Mahmoody

  What’s there to lose in believing? If I’m wrong and death is the end, then what have I lost? Nothing. If the Bible is true and I don’t believe, when I die I go to hell. You’re the mathematician, you tell me—is that not a worthwhile wager?

  I agree with you that people throughout history have done and continue to do abhorrent things in the name of religion. No religion is exempt from those who hijack the cause and use it for their evil purposes. When that happens, the devil rejoices for to him that is a victory.

  Just because my dad was Persian and did horrible things does not mean that all Persians are horrible people. The same with religion. And like I don’t condone my father for the things he did, I don’t condone religious zealots, regardless of their religious orientation, for the evil they do.

  Like you, I hold dear the values of freedom of religion and the separation of church and state. Far be it from me to tell anyone what they must think or believe. I think we should all be free to make our own decisions—good, bad or indifferent.

  In sharing my beliefs with you, I’m not saying you must believe as I do. If you did, would I rejoice? Absolutely! Just as you, my dear uncle, would rejoice if I denounced religion. On this, I’m afraid, we will have to continue to agree to disagree.

  I am happy and healthy and living a good life. I have endured my fair share of challenges, but life continues to be filled with immeasurable blessings. The Bible says to give thanks in all circumstances and that’s what I try to do. I’ve seen firsthand how the bad leads to a generous abundance of good.

  Have you heard of The Weaver’s Poem? I’ve attached it for you. I remember that you’re a lover of the arts. Perhaps you’ll appreciate it’s imagery, even if you don’t subscribe to its meaning. Reading it, I can’t help but think of the beauty of the colorful Persian carpets that are such a part of our heritage. I hope it puts your mind at ease to know that I have forgiven my dad. I am not a bitter prisoner to hatred.

  I hope you are well and I send you all my love and my deepest respect,

  Mahtob

  EPILOGUE

  This book has given me a beautiful gift. The memory of the pain and anguish of my past that I have carried with me all these years, I no longer have to carry. As I lay down my pen, so to speak, I set aside those details. I relinquish my mind and my heart from the duty of remembering.

  Tamoom . . . it is finished. I am hunted no more.

  Now I am free.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  First and foremost I give thanks to God for the opportunity to embark on this literary adventure. Some people are beset with a burning desire to tell their stories, to be heard and understood. From deep within their core emanates a need, a compulsion even, to write about their experiences. I’ve never felt that urge. And yet, since childhood, others have been asking me to tell my story—strangers who have come to know bits of me through books or films, journalists, documentarians . . . and publishers. I found the interest flattering and more than a bit bewildering. And so it is with sincere humility and genuine appreciation for the remarkable opportunities that God has placed before me that I accepted this invitation.

  This project would likely not have come to fruition without the efforts of Anja Kleinlein. Anja was a legend in the publishing world and a very dear family friend. For many years it had been her dream for me to write a book sharing my experiences from my perspective and shedding light on the good that has so graciously come from the bad in my life. In the last year of her life, Anja worked tirelessly as my agent to negotiate the terms of my contract. For her it was a labor of love. I wish I could have finished writing in time for her to see this book take shape before she was called to her heavenly home.

  The writing process was challenging on many levels, and I am extremely grateful for the support of my family and friends. As they always do, they rallied around me, bending over backward to do anything and everything in their power to encourage and sustain me during this prolonged and often painful period of self-reflection. I am especially indebted to my two new agents, Michael Carlisle, who after many years rode back into my life on a very white horse, and Sebastian Ritscher, who took a chance on a stranger. Together they set me free from what had become a toxic situation.

  Last and certainly not least, I thank my mom for her unconditional love and her wisdom. Maybe now that I’m done writing, she’ll finally tell me which events we remember differently.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  A Phi Beta Kappa graduate of Michigan State University, Mahtob Mahmoody has worked in the field of mental health and is an advocate for public awareness of health and welfare initiatives. She is represented by AEI Speakers Bureau and lives in Michigan.