12. Children
O’ Lord,
What honour
Have Thou bestowed
Greater than our children?
Precious beyond the ken of men,
Beautiful, paradise-sprung,
For our hearts to render ill
In thoughtful appraise
Of Thy Magnificent Handiwork.
O’ Boundless King,
In Thy Hands
We trust
Our children’s happiness,
Fresh roses in the Garden of Your Beloved!
Glistening with dew of angels’ tears,
Bright is their mantle,
Sparkling with the Light of Your Most Praised!
If you are done with them, can I have my tears back, Mikhail? |
The day after tomorrow, Mikhail will be starting standard 2 in his primary school. 2011 sped through like a speeding bullet, leaping tall buildings in a single bound. I reckon this year will be the same too. Time flies when you are having fun, you know...
Children are incredible inventions of God - as the prose says - fresh roses in the Garden of your Beloved, glistening with dew of angels' tears. When Mika is away, my own home feels diminished. Everyone misses him. The house just seems a little less bright. And a lot more quiet. Really quiet - It is my son's belief that if he stops talking, he ceases to exist. Often I inquire, "Mika, do you really need to verbalize everything that runs through your head?" To which he always answers, "Of course, Papa!" Okay. Good. I just wanted to be clear about that.
May God bless all children, and may you have a lovely day, sunshine. Do you remember your own childhood?
wa min Allah at-taufiq
Hate has no place in Islam
Love will show the Way
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