Reza – A Copper Beech, Sum of Wisdom In Wilhelm Meister’s Apprenticeship and Travels, Goethe’s account of the intellectual and spiritual growth of a young man during widespread travels over many years, the poet wrote: We see the flowers fade and the leaves fall but we also see fruits ripen and new buds shoot forth. Life belongs to the living, and the one who lives must be prepared for change. Reza was akin to a magnificent tree who sheltered all his friends and family within his wide embrace, like the 200-year-old copper beech which he loved in the Wadham College gardens, one of whose sons is now flourishing in his own garden in Iffley. He was a lively sapling in Tehran, reaching for sun and knowledge, nurtured by a loving and close family, inspired by a powerful and scholarly father. Although Reza’s family was prominent in Iran, when he started his own life as a university student at Columbia, their circumstances were difficult, and he learned to make his own way in the world and rely on himself. As he passed through his graduate studies at Northwestern and UCLA, taught at the University of Washington, and crowned his career as the Soudavar chair at Oxford, he grew and developed into a strong person with a brilliant wide-ranging and deeply knowledgeable intellect and a hugely loyal and loving heart. He met many misfortunes along the way, but always managed to triumph, and to care and provide for all those he loved most, and to keep his father’s legacy. He was loyal and generous with his friends, but did not suffer fools gladly. And most of all he faced life with optimism and joy, spreading laughter and happiness to all around him. His great leaves have sadly fallen to the ground to nourish the roots of the trees whose branches bear the younger fruits now ripening and send forth the new buds, his gift to the generations of his near and dear to come. All who were privileged to know him and share some of his life and love will never forget him, but try to live our lives to the fullest as he would want, and remember him in our hearts. In the rustling of the leaves we will always hear his laughter. These trees shall be my books, And in their barks my thoughts I'll character (Shakespeare, As You Like It)