family

Family unites us; but it's also a challenge. All about fighting to stay together, and loving every moment of it.

Unapologetically Being My True, Authentic Self
What's in a name, you ask? Your name might have a personal or cultural meaning that's near and dear to you. On the other hand, you dislike your name and want to change it or to be called by a different name. For me, I chose the latter. In a recent article from the Social Security Administration's (SSA) website, they displayed a table of the top 100 names given to males and females between the years 1925 to 2024. In case you're curious, the most popular name for males is James, while Mary is the top given name for females in the past 100 years. My name, Mark, is ranked 15th on the list among given male names. Near the end of 2022, I made a bold decision to do something for myself. In December of that year, I decided that I wanted to go by my middle name, which is Wesley and wanted to be addressed by that name. I'll share the why in a bit. It's not a popular name and according to MyNameStats.com, it's ranked 488th. I'm almost 40 and I have the right to be called by a different name. It was a grown-up decision that I don't regret at all.
By Mark Wesley Pritchard about a year ago in Humans
The Letter My Mother Made Me Promise Never to Read
The Letter My Mother Made Me Promise Never to Read When my mother passed away last winter, she left behind a will so simple it almost hurt to read.
By Azlan shahabout a year ago in Humans
My Grandmother’s Key Wasn’t for a Door
When my grandmother passed away, her house fell silent in a way I had never heard before. The ticking of the clock, once comforting, now sounded like a reminder — that time moves on, even when we don’t want it to.
By Azlan shahabout a year ago in Humans
The Seeds of Faith
The Seeds of Faith By Tabeer Ali — English Adaptation The old farmer worked every day under the sun, his wrinkled hands digging deep into the soil that had long turned barren. Though the land yielded nothing, he refused to give up. His ten-year-old grandson, Hasan, often watched in confusion. His father, Aamir, always worked in the fertile fields—the ones that actually bore fruit. Yet his grandfather, Hakim, spent his days toiling on the dry, lifeless earth. “Why does he work there?” Hasan would wonder silently. “That land gives nothing back.” One afternoon, Hasan’s mother handed him a small meal and said, “Take this to your grandfather, dear.” When Hasan reached the fields, the old man was still at work. His shirt was soaked with sweat, but his face carried a calm satisfaction. After finishing his task, he sat beside Hasan, and together they began to eat. “Grandpa,” Hasan asked hesitantly, “may I ask you something?” Hakim smiled. “Of course, my boy. What is it?” “Why do you keep working on this barren land? Father says it’s useless. He works where crops grow—where we get food. You work where nothing grows. Isn’t that a waste of effort?” The old man chuckled softly, the kind of laugh that carries both patience and memory. “Ah, Hasan,” he said gently, “when I was your age, my father and I migrated here. We had nothing but hope. Back then, all of this—” he waved his hand toward the green fields nearby—“was just as barren as this patch you see today.” “Really?” Hasan asked in surprise. “Yes,” Hakim nodded. “My father was a man of great faith. He believed that no land is truly barren if you work it with love and patience. Every evening, after his day’s labor, he would come to this wasteland and pour his sweat into it. People laughed at him. They said he was foolish, wasting his strength. But he never stopped. And then, one day, the soil answered his faith—it began to bloom. That barren land gave us life.” Hakim paused, looking at the ground as if seeing his father’s hands still working there. “So, you see, Hasan, I’m only continuing his devotion. Maybe one day this land will bloom again too.” “But Grandpa,” Hasan protested, “we already have good fields. Why buy more barren land? Why not use your strength to make the green ones even better?” Hakim smiled again. “If your great-grandfather had thought the same, do you think your father would have inherited these green fields?” Hasan fell quiet. After a moment, the old man asked, “Do you know when land becomes truly barren?” Hasan shook his head. “When, Grandpa?” “When we stop believing in it,” Hakim replied softly. “When we stop caring for it, stop looking at it with hope. That’s when the soil dries and the heart hardens. You see, Hasan, hearts are not so different from the earth. They too grow barren when left unloved.” He smiled, his eyes distant but kind. “Those who love the earth don’t look for profit—they look for promise. The land is like a mother. She shelters us, feeds us, and bears our burdens. Even after we die, she takes us back into her arms. Shouldn’t we love her the same way she loves us?” Hasan listened in silence, his young mind trying to hold onto every word. “Some people, too,” Hakim continued, “are like barren land. Their hearts have gone dry. They’ve forgotten how to give love, how to feel kindness. But we must never give up on them either.” “But Grandpa,” Hasan asked softly, “what if such people never change? What if no matter how much kindness you give, they stay barren?” Hakim smiled again—the same wise smile Hasan would remember all his life. “Then, my boy, we keep sowing goodness. We keep watering their hearts with patience, feeding them with compassion, and waiting with hope. Even barren soil cannot resist forever. One day, it will bloom again.” Hasan frowned slightly. “But Grandpa, your hands get hurt. You bleed sometimes. Why go through so much pain for this?” Hakim looked down at his calloused palms. “Ah, Hasan,” he said softly, “when the hands that have labored in love finally hold the fruit of their effort—the first bloom after years of faith—the joy is beyond pain. These wounds are the price of miracles.” Later that day, Hasan walked home carrying the empty meal box, his mind echoing with his grandfather’s words. Something inside him had changed. It was as if a seed had been planted—one that would take years to sprout. --- Years Later Time passed. The old man’s grave now rested beneath a tree that overlooked the green fields he had once nurtured. Hasan, now a grown man, stood with his own son, Irfan, surveying a stretch of dry land he was about to purchase. “Father,” Irfan said, puzzled, “why are we buying this? It’s barren. Everyone knows nothing grows here.” Hasan smiled—the same patient smile his grandfather had worn. “Come,” he said, placing a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Let me tell you a story.” As they walked, Hasan told Irfan about his grandfather, about faith, and about the barren land that had once bloomed. By the time they reached home, Irfan looked at the surrounding fields differently. The green crops swaying in the breeze now looked like living prayers — the harvest of hope that had survived generations. That night, before sleeping, Irfan whispered to himself: > “If everyone cared for their share of barren land — in the world or in their hearts — maybe neither the earth nor humanity would ever stay barren again.”
By Khan about a year ago in Humans
The Lesson of Respect
The Lesson of Respect BY: Khan Nooria was a bright student in the seventh grade — intelligent, confident, and, perhaps, a little spoiled. Being the only child of her parents, she had always been the center of their world. Every wish of hers was fulfilled without delay; every demand was met with affection. Over time, this constant pampering made her a bit proud and dismissive of others. She had developed the habit of thinking she was better than everyone else around her. In Nooria’s house lived an old maid, affectionately known as Bibi Amma. She had been with the family for decades — long before Nooria was even born. In fact, she had held Nooria in her arms when she was a baby, feeding her and singing her lullabies. But now, Nooria barely respected her. Whenever Bibi Amma made a small mistake, Nooria would scold her harshly. Her mother often tried to make her understand, saying, > “Nooria, Bibi Amma is like a family member. She’s been with us for years. You must respect her.” But Nooria would roll her eyes and mutter under her breath. Respect, she thought, was something only elders deserved — not servants. --- One afternoon, as Nooria sat doing her homework, she noticed a slight crease in her school uniform. Annoyed, she shouted, > “Bibi Amma! Didn’t I tell you to iron my clothes properly? Do it again!” The old woman nodded silently, took the clothes, and went back to the ironing board. Nooria didn’t even notice how tired she looked or how her hands trembled from years of work. Her arrogance only grew worse when her friends came over. --- One day, Nooria invited a few of her school friends for a small get-together. She wanted to show off her stylish room, her fancy dresses, and the luxuries her parents provided. When Bibi Amma entered the room carrying a tray of cold drinks, one of the glasses had a small smudge on it — barely noticeable. But Nooria noticed. She grabbed the tray from the old woman’s hands and, in a sudden burst of anger, threw it against the wall. The tray crashed loudly. Glass shattered, and red syrupy drink spilled across the floor like a pool of shame. > “Can’t you see what you’re doing?” she screamed. “You never wash the glasses properly! Go and make the drinks again — this time, clean them first!” Her friends sat in awkward silence. Some exchanged uncomfortable glances. Bibi Amma, embarrassed and teary-eyed, knelt to pick up the broken pieces. Her wrinkled hands trembled as she cleaned the mess. Without saying a word, she went back to the kitchen. That night, Nooria slept peacefully, unaware that life was about to teach her a powerful lesson. --- In her dream, Nooria found herself in a small, dark kitchen. She was wearing old, faded clothes and holding a tray of teacups. Her hands were shaking. She didn’t know why she was there, but she felt the weight of exhaustion and fear. Suddenly, she walked into a large, beautiful living room. On the sofa sat a woman wearing elegant clothes and expensive jewelry. She looked strict and proud — and then Nooria realized, it was Bibi Amma. The elegant woman frowned at her and said coldly, > “What took you so long? Bring the tea!” Nooria hurried forward, terrified. But as she placed the tray on the table, the woman’s eyes narrowed. > “You foolish girl!” she shouted. “Did you even wash these cups properly?” With that, she picked up a cup and threw it against the wall — just as Nooria had done earlier. The sound echoed through the room, and hot tea splashed onto Nooria’s hands. Tears filled her eyes. At that moment, she felt the same humiliation, fear, and pain that she had caused Bibi Amma countless times. She tried to speak — to apologize — but her voice wouldn’t come out. Then suddenly, everything went dark. --- Nooria woke up with a start. Her heart was racing, and her eyes were wet with tears. The dream had felt so real that she could still feel the sting of the hot tea on her hands. She sat up in bed, realizing the truth: what if she had truly been in Bibi Amma’s place? How painful it must have been for the old woman to bear such disrespect in silence. The next morning, when Nooria saw Bibi Amma in the kitchen preparing breakfast, she walked quietly toward her. The old woman looked up, surprised. Nooria hesitated for a moment, then said softly, > “Bibi Amma, I’m… I’m sorry. For everything I said and did.” Tears welled up in the maid’s eyes, but this time, they were tears of happiness. She gently placed her wrinkled hand on Nooria’s head and said, > “It’s alright, child. Realizing one’s mistake is the first step toward goodness.” From that day on, Nooria changed completely. She became polite, humble, and kind to everyone — especially those who worked for her family. She began helping Bibi Amma with small chores, often serving her tea instead of demanding it. Her friends noticed the change and admired her even more — not for her wealth or looks, but for her kindness and maturity. --- Moral: True respect isn’t shown by words — it’s shown by how we treat others, especially those who serve us quietly and selflessly. Nooria learned that lesson the hard way, but it changed her forever. Sometimes, it takes just one dream to open our eyes — and one act of kindness to heal a heart.
By Khan about a year ago in Humans
The Pride of Qarun: The Man Who Was Swallowed by the Earth
The Story of Qarun: The Man Who Was Swallowed by the Earth BY: Ubaid Long ago, during the time of Prophet Moses (peace be upon him), there lived a man named Qarun. He belonged to the same community as Prophet Moses — the Children of Israel. Qarun was known far and wide for his unimaginable wealth. His riches were so vast that even the keys to his treasure chests were heavy enough to be carried only by a large group of strong men. From the outside, Qarun appeared to have everything — gold, silver, jewels, land, and power. But deep inside, he was filled with arrogance, pride, and greed. Instead of using his wealth for good, he hoarded it and refused to help the poor. He neither spent his fortune on himself in gratitude nor shared it with anyone in need. He simply loved to count his gold and take pride in it. Qarun often boasted to the people, saying, > “This wealth is mine. I earned it through my knowledge and hard work. No one has helped me — I alone deserve it.” His words showed his arrogance and his lack of faith in Allah, who is the true giver of all blessings. The people of his community tried to advise him with kindness. They said, > “O Qarun, do not be proud of your wealth. Remember that everything you have comes from Allah. Spend it in His way — help the poor, the needy, and the orphans. Be humble and grateful.” But Qarun’s heart was hard and cold. He ignored their advice and continued to disobey Allah. Every day his pride grew larger, and his humility grew smaller. He thought his fortune made him powerful enough to do anything he wished. Then one day, Qarun decided to show off. He dressed himself in glittering robes woven with gold and silver and decorated his horses and servants with jewels. With a long, shining procession, he marched out before the people, displaying his wealth like a king. The lovers of this world — those whose hearts were filled with greed — looked at him in awe. They whispered among themselves, saying, > “How lucky Qarun is! If only we had as much wealth as he has. What a life he must live — rich, comfortable, and respected!” But the righteous believers, who feared Allah and valued goodness above gold, said, > “Do not envy him. What Allah has prepared for good and humble people in the Hereafter is far greater than all the riches Qarun owns.” They reminded each other that wealth without gratitude is a test, not a blessing. However, Qarun only grew more arrogant. He began mocking the words of the wise and turned his back on every reminder. His pride had blinded him completely. He believed he was untouchable — that his fortune could save him from anything, even from the anger of Allah. But one night, when Qarun was surrounded by his treasures, the command of Allah came. The earth began to tremble beneath his palace. Cracks opened under his feet. His servants screamed. His treasures rattled in their chests. Before he could even call for help, the earth swallowed him — his house, his gold, his servants, everything he owned. The people who had once envied him stood frozen in terror. They could still see the ground shaking and closing over him. And then — silence. Qarun was gone. Not a single trace of his palace or treasure remained. Those who had once wished to be like him now said with trembling voices, > “Praise be to Allah, who saved us from this fate! If Allah had given us wealth like Qarun’s, we might have become arrogant too, and we would have been destroyed just like him.” The story of Qarun spread across the lands as a lesson for all generations. His end became a symbol of what happens when pride and greed overpower faith and gratitude. Qarun had forgotten a simple truth: wealth is not a sign of greatness; it is a test. When Allah gives someone wealth, He wants to see whether that person will be grateful and generous, or selfish and arrogant. Qarun failed that test — and his downfall became eternal. --- The Lesson Dear children, and all who read this story — never be proud of what you have, no matter how big or small it may be. Everything we own — our home, our health, our success — is given to us by Allah. And just as He gives, He can take it away in a moment. Never look at others with jealousy. Some people may seem rich and powerful, but their hearts are poor if they have forgotten Allah. True wealth is not gold or silver — it is a heart filled with faith, kindness, and gratitude. If Allah blesses you with money, share it. If He blesses you with talent, use it for good. If He blesses you with knowledge, teach others. When we give for the sake of Allah, our blessings grow in this world and in the next. Qarun’s story reminds us that pride always leads to destruction, but humility and thankfulness lead to peace. So let us promise ourselves today — to never look down on anyone, to never boast about what we have, and to always thank Allah for every blessing, big or small. For those who live humbly and do good, the reward waiting in the Hereafter is far greater than any treasure on Earth. --- Moral: Pride destroys, but gratitude saves. Everything we have is a trust from Allah — so use it wisely, humbly, and for good.
By Ubaid about a year ago in Humans
Why Do Some People Always Play the Victim?
Parts of this article were created with the help of AI. Introduction Have you ever met someone who always seems to suffer—no matter the situation? Maybe you’ve felt that way yourself. Some people carry pain like a second skin, and over time, that pain becomes part of their identity. This article explores why some individuals unconsciously adopt the victim role, and how it affects their relationships, growth, and sense of self.
By touraj mohebbiabout a year ago in Humans
My Father’s Silence
My Father’s Silence By Hasnain Shah My father never raised his voice. He didn’t have to. Silence did the work for him. When I was little, I used to think his quietness was a kind of magic. He could fill a room with it. At the dinner table, my mother would ask him questions — How was work? Did you eat lunch today? — and he would respond with a nod or a half-smile. If she pressed, his jaw would tighten, and the words would stay lodged somewhere between his chest and throat, like stones he refused to spit out.
By Hasnain Shahabout a year ago in Humans
From Chatting to Cheating: The 7 Stages of Emotional Affairs
Emotional affairs often begin innocently—a friendly chat, a shared laugh, or a comforting message. But as time passes, those small exchanges can quietly grow into deep emotional attachments that challenge the boundaries of loyalty and trust. To keep your relationship safe before it turns into betrayal, you need to know how these emotional ties change over time.
By Relationship Guideabout a year ago in Humans
Leo Woman and Capricorn Man Compatibility Score. AI-Generated.
Love between a Leo woman and a Capricorn man is a unique dance between fiery passion and quiet determination. At first glance, these two may seem like opposites — she is radiant, warm, and loves the spotlight, while he is calm, disciplined, and prefers to work behind the scenes. Yet, their bond can be surprisingly powerful because both are strong-willed, loyal, and deeply ambitious individuals. If they learn to respect and balance their differences, this pairing can evolve into an unshakable power couple.
By Inspire and Funabout a year ago in Humans
The Backrooms of the Author's Mind. Winner in Maps of the Self Challenge. Top Story - October 2025.
Okay, okay, here me out. I want you to picture yourself like you in the screening room of a 1960’s big picture show executive preview. The one who gets the final say on greenlighting the project. The velvet curtains part and there’s color, but not too much color because it’s old film. You’re silhouetted and you take off your hat and hand it to the silhouette next to you.
By Amos Gladeabout a year ago in Humans
A Map of What Stays. Top Story - October 2025.
There isn’t a map for leaving home. Not really. There are directions, sure—interstates and flight paths, the kind of routes that pull you away from everything familiar—but no one tells you how to find your way back, not to the place, but to the person you were when you left.
By Kamabout a year ago in Humans