children

Children: Our most valuable natural resource.

A Lesson in Protection
A Lesson in Protection BY:Ubaid Savira walked quietly beside her grandmother as they entered the school gate. She loved the warmth of her grandmother’s hand and never minded the short walk from home. But her classmate Farhana noticed and could not resist making a remark. “Savira!” Farhana giggled. “Did I just see you coming to school with your grandmother again? We’re in high school now, not kindergarten. Don’t you think it’s time you started coming alone?” Savira stopped for a moment. Her eyes narrowed. “Yes, I come with my grandmother—and sometimes with my grandfather too. What’s the problem? My mother always says no matter how old we grow, we’ll always be children to our parents.” With that, she walked off angrily, leaving Farhana smirking in the classroom. During lunch break, Savira stayed silent, her mood darkened by the teasing. When school ended, her grandfather arrived to pick her up as usual. But the sting of Farhana’s words remained. That evening, after dinner, Savira finally shared the story with her mother and grandmother. “Who is this Farhana? I’ve never heard that name before,” her mother asked. “She’s new in our class,” Savira explained. Her grandmother shook her head gently. “Child, it doesn’t matter what she or anyone else says. The world has never been safe, not in the past and not now. Having someone accompany you is for your protection, not your weakness.” Her mother added, “Your grandmother is right. Parents love their children dearly, and no distance is too short to risk safety. Next time someone questions you, explain to them there’s nothing shameful in being cared for. It’s a blessing.” Savira nodded. “Yes, Mama. If anyone says something like this again, I’ll answer them properly.” --- A Dangerous Encounter A few days later, classes ended as usual. Farhana decided to walk home by herself. Her house was a little farther away, but she enjoyed the independence. She passed familiar streets, but soon noticed a man and woman walking behind her. Their appearance was odd—unkempt clothes, suspicious eyes—and though she tried to ignore them, unease crept into her heart. Her pace quickened. So did theirs. When she turned toward a quieter alley, fear overcame her. What if they followed her there? She shifted toward the busier main road, but her legs were trembling now. Then the woman called out behind her, “Stop, girl!” Farhana’s heart pounded. She ignored the voice and walked faster—then broke into a run. Behind her, their footsteps grew louder. Panic set in. Suddenly she remembered: Savira’s house was just around the corner before the main road. Without thinking, her feet carried her there. She ran up to the gate and banged furiously, pressing the doorbell again and again. “Open the door! Please! Someone is following me!” she cried desperately. Inside, Savira and her family had just settled after school. Alarmed by the frantic banging, they rushed to the door. Savira’s elder brother grabbed a wooden stick, unsure if this was a trap. But when they opened the door, they saw Farhana—terrified, breathless, on the verge of tears. The suspicious man and woman, realizing attention had been drawn, disappeared into the distance. “Savira, isn’t this the same Farhana you told us about?” her mother asked. “Yes, Mama. This is her.” “Let her in, child,” the grandmother said gently. “Can’t you see how shaken she is?” Farhana stepped inside and clung to Savira’s mother, bursting into tears. Between sobs, she explained everything that had happened on the road. --- Realization and Regret Ashamed, Farhana looked at Savira with guilt. “I’m so sorry. I laughed at you for coming with your grandmother… but now I understand. If I hadn’t reached your house, I don’t know what could have happened.” Savira’s grandmother stroked her head. “It’s all right, dear. The world outside can be dangerous, especially for children and young girls. Safety is not something to be mocked.” “Come, I’ll walk you home,” the grandmother offered. “I’ll come too,” Savira’s mother added. Together, they escorted Farhana to her house and explained everything to her parents. “Please don’t let your children go alone,” Savira’s mother urged. “Even a short walk can be risky. If they must go somewhere, send them together or with an elder. Protection is always better than regret.” Farhana’s parents listened carefully and thanked them. From that day on, Farhana changed. She stopped teasing others and never again made fun of children accompanied by elders. The incident became a powerful reminder that sometimes, what looks like overprotection is in fact an act of deep love. --- Moral Being cared for by parents and grandparents is not a weakness. It is a shield of love in a world that often hides dangers in plain sight.
By Ubaid about a year ago in Families
The Children Who Dreamed of Pakistan
The Children of Pakistan’s Freedom MovementBY:Khan When we look back at the struggle for Pakistan, we often think of great leaders, monumental speeches, and decisive negotiations. But one of the most overlooked forces behind this movement was the spirit of children. Their innocence, determination, and unshakable faith in the dream of Pakistan inspired even the most hardened leaders. A Child’s Reply Before the creation of Pakistan, a young boy was walking along a roadside when a car suddenly struck him. His head began to bleed, and he burst into tears. At that moment, a non-Muslim passerby stopped and mocked him: “You call yourself a Muslim, and yet you cry?” The child, despite his pain, answered with striking courage: “I cry not because I am hurt, but because the blood I had saved for Pakistan is being wasted here on the road.” When Muhammad Ali Jinnah, later known as Quaid-e-Azam (the Great Leader), heard this story, he remarked: “A nation that produces children of such spirit cannot be kept enslaved for long.” Children as Torchbearers The movement for Pakistan demanded immense sacrifices. Men and women, old and young, all played their part. But it was the children who brought unique passion and energy to the cause. Inspired by Jinnah’s personality, they rose above play and leisure, forming small groups to participate in political activities. One such group was famously called the “Children’s Muslim League.” A photograph still exists of its young members gathered with Jinnah—a reminder that children were not just bystanders, but participants in shaping history. An Eight-Year-Old’s Understanding In 1941, Jinnah was returning from a Muslim League session. As his car passed through a small town, people lined the streets to welcome him. Among them was an eight-year-old boy wearing nothing but a simple lungi. With all his might, he shouted: “Pakistan Zindabad! Long live Pakistan!” Jinnah noticed him, stopped his car, and called the boy closer. Gently, he asked, “Do you know what Pakistan means?” The boy was nervous at first, but encouraged by the crowd, he boldly replied: “Sir, you know its meaning better than us. But we only understand this much: where Muslims rule, that is Pakistan. Where non-Muslims rule, that is Hindustan.” Jinnah smiled and turned to the journalists traveling with him: “Go and tell Mr. Gandhi that even an eight-year-old Muslim child understands the meaning of Pakistan. If he claims he does not, it is not because he cannot—it is because he does not wish to admit it.” A Gift of Devotion Not only boys, but young girls too expressed their devotion to Pakistan. Once, in Delhi, a poor villager approached Jinnah after a rally. He said his daughter had embroidered a handkerchief with the map of Pakistan and wished to present it personally. Jinnah agreed to visit their modest home. There, a thirteen-year-old girl, standing behind a curtain, handed him the embroidered piece. Jinnah, deeply moved, promised her that this humble gift would one day play a role in Pakistan’s struggle. Years later, during the Simla Conference, British officials attempted to persuade Jinnah to abandon the demand for Pakistan. They even offered him the position of Governor-General of a united India. The next day, instead of entertaining their proposal, Jinnah presented that very handkerchief. He said firmly: “Pakistan is not merely Jinnah’s demand—it belongs to ten crore Muslims. It lives in their hearts and runs in their blood. Even young village girls spend their free hours stitching its map. Do not insult this dream by asking me to trade it.” Waiting in the Cold Jinnah’s bond with children was mutual. They adored him, and he cherished their loyalty. On one cold winter night, as his train stopped at a rural station, two small children, wrapped in thin shawls, tapped on his window. His companions urged him not to open it, fearing danger, but Jinnah insisted. There stood the shivering children. When he asked why they had come at such an hour, they replied simply: “We read in the newspaper that you would pass through tonight. We came to see you—because you are building Pakistan for us.” Jinnah was deeply touched. Moments like these convinced him that the dream of Pakistan was not only political—it was a flame burning in the hearts of even the youngest Muslims. Builders of Tomorrow Reflecting on such encounters, Jinnah once said: “The children of Muslims have now developed a national consciousness. They will carry the banner of our struggle forward.” Indeed, children played their role by praying, chanting slogans, and giving their unwavering love to the cause. Their innocence became a source of strength, reminding elders of what was truly at stake—the future of generations yet to come. A Message for Today The dream of Pakistan was achieved through faith, unity, and sacrifice. Today’s children are the inheritors of that dream. For them, Jinnah laid down three guiding principles: “Be loyal to yourself, be loyal to your state, and devote yourself fully to your studies.” These words remain just as relevant. The children who once embroidered maps and shouted slogans in the cold gave us a homeland. Now it is the responsibility of today’s young generation to build it stronger—through education, discipline, and integrity. Pakistan was not gifted easily; it was earned through sweat, tears, and the spirit of children who believed in a land of their own.
By Khan about a year ago in Families
The Secret to Visiting Petting Zoos: Baby Animal Season Revealed 🐑🐐
If you’ve ever taken your kids to a petting zoo, you know the look on their faces when they meet a goat or a lamb up close—it’s pure wonder. But here’s something most parents don’t realize: there’s a right time to visit if you want those once-in-a-lifetime encounters.
By PettingZoo.Funabout a year ago in Families
My Dad, My Hero
When I think about my dad, my heart feels heavy but also warm. Heavy because he is no longer here with us. Warm because of all the love and memories he left behind.
By Zidaneabout a year ago in Families
Homework With Mom: The Day 1 + 1 Became 6
Homework is supposed to be simple. A quiet kitchen table, a child doing sums, a mother sipping coffee nearby. That’s how it looks in the movies. But in real life? Homework time is a circus act, a battlefield, and sometimes a full-on comedy show that makes the neighbors wonder if they should sell tickets.
By Life Hopesabout a year ago in Families
Hospital Days, Heavy Hearts, and What It Feels Like to Be a Parent
I spent eight hours in the hospital the other day, watching my son flinch with every twitch of his broken arm, his face twisting as if the pain itself were gnawing at him from the inside. I swallowed my own tears, forcing myself to stay strong, to be his armor while mine cracked invisibly beneath the weight.
By C.Z. Munu about a year ago in Families
Kid Not Into Reading? Try an Audiobook!
Hey there, parents, teachers, and anyone who's ever tried to get a kid excited about a book – buckle up! In a world where screens dominate, audiobooks are stepping up as the unsung heroes of storytelling. A recent bombshell from The Guardian has everyone buzzing: England's schools might soon officially embrace audiobooks in their curriculum, thanks to eye-opening data from the National Literacy Trust. This isn't about ditching traditional reading; it's about amplifying the joy of stories in a way that clicks with today's tech-savvy kids. Let's break it down in a fun, positive vibe, exploring how listening to books can spark imaginations, build skills, and create lifelong book lovers. Trust me, by the end, you'll see why this is a game-changer for children everywhere.
By Francisco Navarroabout a year ago in Families
The Weight of Fear
The Weight of Fear BY:Ubaid “Wahab, you’re such a coward!” Rimsha Javed scolded, her voice sharp with mockery. “Look at what happened! That poor boy broke your bicycle chain, and you didn’t even say a word. These ragged kids have no manners. You could have at least shouted at him.” Her younger brother Waqar followed Wahab into the house, grumbling under his breath, his words loud enough for their elder sister, Rida, to hear from the lawn. She laughed teasingly, “Oh, I’m sure Wahab was too scared of the boy’s curse. That must be why he kept quiet.” Wahab said nothing. He quietly parked his bicycle against the wall and slipped into his room. Waqar, however, was eager to retell the whole incident in detail. He explained how, while returning from school, a ragpicker boy suddenly struck Wahab’s bicycle with a stick, breaking the chain. Afraid that the boy might hit his head next, Wahab had quickly ridden off. “I swear, he seemed half-crazy,” Waqar concluded with a shrug. His eyes, however, lingered on Wahab’s brand-new bicycle and the shiny schoolbag hanging on his shoulders. Just then, a neighborly voice called out from across the wall. “Wahab, son, are you free? Could you fetch me some yogurt from the shop?” It was an elderly lady from next door. “Of course, Aunty. I’ll just drop my bag first,” Wahab replied cheerfully, rushing to help. Waqar rolled his eyes. “Are you serious? Aren’t you tired after two hours of tuition? Always running errands like some servant.” Wahab only smiled. He had no answer, and Waqar knew his words would never change his brother. Still, he muttered, “You’re just afraid. If you ever refuse, you think Aunty will complain to Dad. That’s the only reason you say yes to everything.” He shook his head in frustration and unlocked the front door. --- Later that evening, their father, Zohaib, drove out with Wahab and their grandfather. They had barely entered the main road when disaster struck. A rickshaw swerved recklessly, crashing into their car. The rickshaw toppled over. Their car’s side window shattered with a loud crack, scattering glass everywhere. Cuts immediately streaked across Zohaib’s hands and arms, blood dripping freely. “Zohaib! Get out and catch that rickshaw driver!” Grandfather shouted in fury. “Is this any way to drive? He could have killed us!” “Leave it, Abba,” Zohaib said softly, wincing in pain. “The poor man has suffered damage too.” “Yes, Dada Abu,” Wahab added anxiously. “We don’t know what troubles he might be facing, or why he was in such a rush. If Baba gets harsh, Allah might be displeased. Please, Baba, let’s just go to the hospital first. Look at your hands—there’s so much blood.” “You two are unbelievable!” Grandfather snapped. “A father and son pair of cowards!” Angrily, he pushed the car door open and stepped outside. A crowd had already gathered around the accident scene. Zohaib’s face tightened with worry. “Oh no. May Allah protect that poor driver from Abba’s temper.” Before anyone could say more, a man rushed toward them with a strip of cloth in his hand. He gently helped Zohaib out of the car and quickly tied the cloth around his wounds to slow the bleeding. Meanwhile, bystanders had uprighted the rickshaw. The driver, shaken but alive, stood nervously before Grandfather. Wahab held his breath, expecting an outburst. Instead, something remarkable happened. Grandfather’s expression softened. He placed a firm but gentle hand on the driver’s shoulder, speaking words no one heard clearly. Then, reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a few large notes and pressed them into the man’s hand. The driver bent low in gratitude, his face trembling with relief. Wahab felt a smile spread across his face. So Abba was right, he thought. Kindness always wins over anger. Zohaib, now bandaged, looked back and saw the scene. Relief washed over his features. The crowd, too, seemed satisfied, murmuring approvingly at the unexpected turn. The man who had tied the cloth said gently, “This is only temporary. Please go to the nearest hospital to have the wounds cleaned properly and dressed.” “Yes, thank you,” Zohaib nodded gratefully. Wahab and a few others quickly cleared the shards of glass from the backseat. Soon, Grandfather returned to the car and slipped behind the wheel. His tone was calmer now. “Alhamdulillah,” he said, exhaling deeply, “I remembered just in time that the heaviest accountability is for our words. That thought alone frightened me—what if the Almighty, far stronger than I, were to hold me accountable for my tongue?” A chill passed through all three of them. Wahab shivered as his grandfather started the car again, steering it toward the hospital. --- That night, as Wahab replayed the day’s events in his mind, one truth shone brightly. Fear wasn’t always weakness. Sometimes fear—the fear of Allah, the fear of injustice, the fear of hurting someone powerless—was what protected a person from becoming truly cruel. And perhaps, he thought, it was not cowardice at all, but the greatest strength a human heart could carry.
By Ubaid about a year ago in Families
The First School of a Child: Lessons Begin at Home
The First School of a Child: The Home Environment BY:Khan A child’s very first school is always the home. When a baby is born, their mind is like a blank sheet of paper. Parents are the ones who color that paper. If they paint it with honesty, kindness, and love, the child’s personality will flourish beautifully. But if they fill it with dark and negative strokes, the same flaws will reflect in the child’s character. Some parents believe that sending their children to expensive schools is enough for good upbringing. Yet, the truth is that children learn far more from their home environment than from classrooms. The behavior of parents — what they say and what they actually do — leaves an everlasting imprint. If a parent warns their child never to lie but is seen lying themselves, the child becomes confused. Who should they believe? The words, or the actions? The Shadow of Deprivation There are also children who grow up in broken families. When parents separate or remarry, the child often finds themselves torn between two worlds. At the father’s house, the mother isn’t truly theirs. At the mother’s house, the father is missing. Many such children end up living with grandparents or in boarding schools, carrying an unspoken emptiness inside them. Parents may take them to counselors or psychologists, but the deep scars of emotional deprivation are not easy to heal. The Impact of Joint Family Systems In South Asian societies, joint family systems are still common. They have their blessings: children receive love from many elders. But there are downsides as well — every relative tries to teach the child in their own way. As a result, the child is often caught between conflicting voices and grows into a confused personality. To explain this reality, let me share a true incident told by a mother. A Mother’s Struggle This woman lived in a joint household with her mother-in-law and sisters-in-law. She longed to raise her children with strong Islamic values — to instill in them an understanding of right and wrong, and the importance of staying away from sin. One day, she noticed her little son secretly slipping ten rupees from the drawer into his school bag. The next day, he tried again, and this time she caught him red-handed. The child was still very young, too small to truly grasp the concept of sin, but the mother believed values should be taught early. She gently stopped him and said: “Son, you must never take money without asking. Always come to Mama first. Taking things secretly makes Allah unhappy. It is a sin.” The boy looked at her with wide, innocent eyes and asked: “Mama, what is a sin?” She explained softly: “A sin is when we do something wrong — like lying, or taking money without permission. If you had asked me, I would have gladly given it to you. But taking it in secret is wrong. Allah doesn’t like that.” The child promised never to take money secretly again. But then he ran straight into his aunt’s room and told her the entire story. In his innocent voice he said: “Auntie, if I take money without asking, Allah will punish me and send me to Hell.” The aunt, amused, hugged him and replied: “Oh, my dear, your mother is too strict. These are your father’s earnings. What’s so sinful about using them? Allah won’t punish innocent children. You don’t need to worry.” Now the little boy was utterly confused. One voice said “It’s a sin,” while the other dismissed it as harmless. Whom should he believe? That evening, he came back to his mother and, in a strangely defiant tone, said: “Mama, you scare me too much. Auntie says Allah won’t punish children. Why do you keep talking about sins and punishment?” The mother, heartbroken, held her head in her hands. She realized how much contradiction in the home environment was damaging her child’s sense of right and wrong. A Battle of Persistence Despite her frustration, the mother did not give up. She continued to gently teach her son about good and bad, even though he often challenged her with questions inspired by his aunt. She knew the road was not easy, but she believed that if she remained patient and consistent, goodness would eventually outweigh confusion. The Lesson This story reflects a reality many families face. Whether in a joint family or a nuclear household, children are deeply influenced by their surroundings. In joint families, too many voices often confuse a child. In nuclear families, loneliness and lack of extended support create different struggles. But in all cases, one truth remains: children are like blank sheets of paper. Parents, through their patience, consistency, and example, decide what colors will be painted on that sheet. Will it be bright shades of truth, compassion, and faith? Or dark strokes of contradiction and carelessness? The answer lies in the hands of parents — in the choices they make every day.
By Khan about a year ago in Families
Parenting Strategies Inspired by Tennis Matches
Tennis and parenting might appear unrelated at first glance, yet they share a surprising number of core principles. Tennis requires discipline, patience, focus, and emotional control—qualities that are also essential for effective parenting. Observing how players and coaches interact on the court reveals patterns that can be directly applied to guiding children at home. These parenting lessons from tennis highlight how structured guidance, balanced independence, and constructive feedback can help children develop into resilient and self-assured individuals. Understanding these connections allows parents to use proven strategies from the tennis world to support their children’s growth.
By Brian Kashmanabout a year ago in Families
The Best Fridge Magnets for Every Family: Customize Your Kitchen Decor
Fridge magnets are more than just functional items for holding up grocery lists or family photos. They are small pieces of art that can add personality and charm to your kitchen. Whether you're a family looking for playful designs, a couple wanting to express your love, or parents wanting to brighten up the kitchen for your kids, there are fridge magnets out there that perfectly match your needs.
By Photojaanicabout a year ago in Families
Reflecting on the End of Our Journey. Top Story - September 2025.
A couple of weeks ago, I made the tough decision to stop breastfeeding. You can read about it here. Afterwards, I decided to keep a 14-day journal to track my moods, energy levels, food cravings and anything else I might notice.
By Sandy Gillmanabout a year ago in Families