More often than I’d like, I’ve been too tired and overwhelmed to do anything beyond the basics with my children. Writing, spelling, grammar, math, Quran, some Arabic and basic Islamic studies. In a list, it sounds like a lot but it’s only worksheets and 20 minutes of quick daily reading. We’re not doing anything fun. So that means no story time or planned crafts. No history, science and geography. And while I sit in the kitchen drinking coffee, feeling guilty and grumpy, my son runs in from the small courtyard outside the house to give me this.
I’m writing this with tears in my eyes, because it feels like every day Allah sends me a small message, through these children.
Yesterday, after feeling guilty and tired and many other things and thoughts I struggle with all the time, I walked into the kitchen to see this:
My eldest daughter had washed all the lunch plates. I saw it and felt terrible for allowing my emotions to take over me. For not realizing how incapable we are of caring for ourselves and how Allah sends hope all the time, sometimes through the littlest of people who have no idea how great their tiny little good deed really is.