He was standing just like that— perched on the back of the rusty bench while my daughter and I were walking in the park. She saw him first and whispered to me, “Look, Mama, look at that robin.”
“Oh, so cute,” I whispered back, and we both froze on the spot— wondering whether to move closer or walk away.
We quietly moved closer, and—surprisingly— the noble prince remained on his throne. Whether it was humility or pride— he stayed silent, his tiny eyes seemed to watch us.
How I wished he would sing— something, anything. But he seemed to have no song. Still, we couldn’t blame him; it was such a grey, humid, and hot day.
At least we were honoured to capture a photo of the park’s noble prince.
I once heard that laugher can relieve panic attacks. You may wonder, as I do, how someone in a panic attack could think of anything funny. Some say a person can force themselves to laugh. Perhaps this advice is based on scientific studies, or maybe it’s just an old folk remedy.
But, based on my own humble experience, I can also say that many cases of panic attacks end up being hilarious incidents.
One day before last Christmas, things went a bit spooky—just like a halloween night. December is known for its freezing weather, short days, and long nights—not to mention its violent storms. That evening, my daughter was invited to her friend’s birthday party at some restaurant in town.
Darkness fell early that evening, and strong wind began to pick up. My plan was to take the bus, stop by my husband’s workplace, and then we go together to pick up my daughter.
The moment I stepped onto the bus and scanned my ticket, I felt as if I were in the wrong time or on the wrong bus. The bus was almost full, but not of the usual passengers. Instead, it was packed with people who looked as though they were going to a party. Men and women with different ages were dressed in shiny, glittering outfits.
Slowly, I made my way to the nearest available seat and sat next to a woman who was deep in slumber. I checked the time and it was just past five pm, and I was sure I was on the right bus.
As the bus pulled away, the party started—not with singing or dancing but with loud, chaotic conversations. It was as if they were on separate buses, shouting across the road. They were planning and arguing what food or drinks to order. It was such a noisy and amusing gathering that I didn’t know whether to frown or smile.
We arrived early in town and decided to have a hot drink until it was time to pick up my daughter. The wind pushed and pulled at us as we hurried downhill toward the nearest café. The streets were almost empty— no one was around. If it wasn’t for the Christmas lights, the town would have looked like a haunted place.
We arrived home safe and sound, but not without a few surprises. My husband hurried to the nearest convenience store to buy a few things as weather warnings announced severe conditions.
For the first time since our move, the wooden front gate was locked. (It’s the type with a metal latch that you push up to open or down to lock.) That night, it was fully down and stuck. It became so dark as if it was midnight rather than just past seven pm.
I tried to unlock the gate, but my attemps didn’t work. When I asked my daughter to jump over to try from the inside, she looked shocked as if I had asked her to climb a tree. I tried and tried until the metal moved up— not completely, but enough to be pushed open.
My daughter hurried upstairs to her room to charge her phone while I heated our dinner. Then, all of a sudden, a loud alarming sound echoed all over the house. I ran back and forth, checking everything, trying to find where this sound came from. Then, my daughter started screaming from upstairs, and I ran up to her room.
‘Mama, it’s my phone. It’s making a horrible noise and it’s so hot.’ My daughter was shaking, her face pale as a white sheet. ‘Turn it off,’ I shouted, snatching it from her hands. It burned in my hand, but the alarming sound had stopped.
We both ran downstairs and left the phone on the kitchen counter, and watching it as if it might explode. The only thought popping into my mind was to throw it away into the garden. Just before taking this action, my phone rang. One of my sons was calling, and I poured out everything that had happened, except my idea to throw the phone away.
‘Are you sure the sound was coming from the phone?’ My son asked. ‘Yes,’ my daughter and I answered at the same time. ‘Was there anything else strange about it? ‘Yes, the screen turned all yellow with a warning message.’ My daughter explained.
My son burst out laughing, just as my husband walked in. ‘Did you get the storm warning message?’ he asked
‘And you were going to throw my phone, Mama,’ my daughter said, the colour returning to her face. ‘And you didn’t even try to read the message!’ I said, and breathed in relief
My daughter and I fell onto the nearest sofa, shaking with laughter, tears rolling down our faces.
What a day! But see? Sometimes, to panic is also to laugh.
One day, while mowing the long grass in my garden, the lawnmower began a weird noise, and then smoke come out of it. I ran to unplug it. Everything was under control with no serious damage caused.
The following day (or week) I seized the opportunity that my husband was working from home and asked him to go with me to buy a new one. Since, the store was not far from home, he agreed.
It was a hot summar day, and my husband, clutching the heavy box, was drenched in sweat.
‘That’s why one shouldn’t work from home,’ my husband grumbled. ‘That’s why one should work from home every now and then,’ I said, stifling a laugh.
We arrived home safe and sound. My husband left the box in the kitchen and ran upstairs. ‘Aren’t you going to help me fix it?’ I called after him. ‘I’ve got a meeting, but give me a shout if you need any.’
I opened the box, took everything out, and gathered all the emply packaging. For a moment, I thought whether to throw away the cardboard, but decided against it. I grabbed the manual which I always found useless. I tried my best to put things together, but that mower, though small, was more complicated to put together. After a dozen attempts, I managed to fix the handle, but there was some wires I had no idea where to place. So, I shouted for help and waited for my husband, who promised to come in as soon as possible. In the meanwhile, I dismantled all the pieces I had put together and made me a nice cup of tea.
‘Oh, you haven’t started anything.’ My husband wondered, and I knew he wished half the job was alreafy done. ‘I did, but things didn’t work. So, it’s your turn to fix it.’ ‘At least you could have made me a cup of tea like yours.’ ‘I will, but only after you fix it.’I said with a smile.
My husband crouched on the floor, trying to put things together, asking me loads of questions as if I was the one who had invented the machine.
”I’ll try later.’ He gave up. ‘But it won’t get fixed. Something is wrong. Can you just take it back to the store and ask them to assemble it.’
Grumbling and murmuring under his breath, my husband asked about the box and the receipt. I whispered a thankful prayer that I hadn’t torn and bin them.
An hour passed, and my husband neither came home nor called. I finally called him.
‘Why is it taking so long?’ ‘They can’t fix it. They called an expert to check it, but he couldn’t either. I got a refund.’ My husband said, sounded both happy and relieved.
‘So, you’re coming home.’ ‘No, I’m going to work.’
With hope and peace,
Nahla
P.S. I know the photo is not related to the topic of my post, but l love nature. Isn’t it better than a lawnmower?
It started off so well, with warm, sunny days, and beautiful clear nights. We went on a short break to Edinburgh. Everything was filled with exciting holiday vibes. My sons joined us as well, which made things more fun and enjoyable
We all love walking so we set our Google Maps and began exploring the beautiful, old city. It wasn’t our first visit to Edinburgh. Actually we had lived in Scotland for five years and we used to visit Edinburgh during the holidays. My sons couldn’t remember anything about it, and of course, neither could my daughter. They were like exploring the charming city for the very first time.
During the day, we wandered through the old town roads and climbed its unique, staircased alleys. I really liked these alleys for they looked like an old storybook. In the evening, we went out for dinner, but things were not as simple and smooth as they were during the day. Without a booking, you aren’t guaranteed a table. But, we managed to explore and find some family ‐ friendly spots. Then, back to the hotel, we stayed up late together, sharing funny stories and snacking until our eyelids grew heavy with sleep. My sons wished us a good night before heading off to their room.
So far, the holiday had been great.
On the second day, my middle son had a train booked for late afternoon as he couldn’t take extra days off work. We made a plan to be back to the hotel after lunchtime so he could have enough time to be get his train on time. This time, my husband didn’t join us, as some of his friends had learned that he was in Edinburgh and wanted to catch up with him.
Once again, the day had been great – busy and full of fun. It wasn’t until we were halfway back to the hotel that my middle son and I began to argue. What we were talking about was not that serious, but it was my reaction that made things worse.
I didn’t know whether it was the heat getting to me, or too much walking, or just one of the mothers’ flaws. My daughter grew emotional, feeling like she was losing all the fun of the day. My eldest son wanted to step in but I glanced at him to not interfere.
A few minutes away from the hotel, we came across a bench sheltered by a beautiful, flowery tree. Silent, the four of us sat there. ‘I’m still hungry. I’m going to get a sandwich,’ my eldest said before leaving us.
‘Now, what’s wrong with you? What’s wrong with what I was saying?’ My middle son began talking, explaing, and arguing. Oh, my heart – I could feel how angry and disappointed he was. I listened patiently and waited until he was finished. Then, I explained my point calmly. He looked convinced, though he didn’t admit it. But, at least, in some way, we both understood that we meant well.
Back to the hotel, he grabbed his bag and came to my room. We chatted about other things until it was time to head to the train station. We hugged, and forgot all about it.
The next day, we headed to the train station. There was some delays, and the weather changed, becoming colder and windy. Once we got on the second train, my daughter received a message from her friend that upset her, but my eldest son took care of that issue. Exhaused, I closed my eyes just to relax, didn’t expect I would fell sleep. But, I did though I usually don’t fell asleep on train journeys, and my neck still hurting until today.
As the train was finally approaching our station, we got our bags and moved towards the door. There was a man waiting alongside us, coughing and sneezing, and looked awfully unwell. I couldn’t help but wonder why he didn’t remain in his seat until the train came to a stop.
The following day, I woke up with slight cold symptoms. The day after, it became much worse with fever and a cough. Today it’s feeling okay.
That’s not all about this Easter holiday – perhaps I will share more soon.
Describe a positive thing a family member has done for you.
I smiled when I read today’s prompt. Do you know why? Because I remembered why I didn’t respond to it, and today, I decided to share my thoughts.
But, first, let me explain why I didn’t answer this prompt last year. That’s simply because I believe your answers would be the same as mine.
Today I just thought of the concept of family as a blood – related entity. By the way, this means I didn’t exactly alter the question but read it differently.
So, within this context, the positive thing I have been learning is that family is family. You can’t trade them, and you can’t change them either. You can’t just wake up one day and decide to erase them from your life no matter what hurt or disappointment they may cause you. You can do that with strangers, because nothing ties you together. But, you can’t do the same with your parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and grandparents.’They are family,’ you will say every time you feel you’ve had enough, right?
Out of this positive blood-tie bond, another positive strategy is born that can help you avoid non-essential problems: It is the art of ‘Mind Your Own Business.’ According to this strategy, you don ‘t ask too much, you don’t play the peacemaker when you are not involved in the scene, and you don’t volunteer to give advice or suggestions if you were forced into the scene. In the end, family tends to overlook what others say, but not yours especially if they didn’t approve your participation because, simply, you’re family too.
Changes in your eyesight do not really imply medical problems. Sometimes, they can be affected by how you feel and think.
A few years ago, my daughter didn’t feel happy in her class because her best friend left the school ‐ just like that, without even a short notice. There were other friends, but she couldn’t feel the same happiness as if something was missing everyday at school. Then, one day, as we were walking back home after school, she told me she couldn’t see the board well. I let a few days pass while observing her reading and writing at home. All seemed fine. Yet, she insisted that she couldn’t see well at school.
I arranged an appointment at the optician’s, and to my surprise, he prescribed glasses for my daughter. Honestly, I didn’t trust his diagnosis. He seemed miserable himself, and imapteint too. I could feel my daughter’s nervousness during the eye test. But, sometimes, you can’t just disagree with the doctor with a reference based on your intuition.
My daughter chose the frame and colour of her glasses, feeling so excited about her new accessory. The following day, she took them to school, and put them on once or twice. The day after, she left them at home. By the third day she had forgotten all about them.
“I see better without them, Mama,” she said and hid them in her desk drawer. On the following year, at her annual eye test check, the optician was such a cheerful person with a genuine smile. My daughter felt relaxed during the examination, and her eyesight was perfect.
“Have you been wearing your glasses regularly,” the optician asked. ‘No,” my daughter quietly replied, feeling a bit guilty. “Well, it doesn’t happen often, but you don’t need glasses anymore,” the optician gave the news as if announcing the marvellous success of a hardworking student.
“Really,’ my daughter gasped, her face beamed with a beautiful smile.
I smiled too, wondering whether it’s true that mothers have a sixth sense -that intuition commonly known as gut feelings.
Whether you’re a child or a grown-up, your eyesight can be affected by what’s hidden deep within your heart and mind. Some might lose their eyesight because of grief, yet the same ones might also regain it through the power of joy. There are no hopless cases, but hope for every case. It’s the cause of the problem that might need treatment, more than the problem itself.
Don’t they say that a healthy diet and a walk outdoor in the open, wide beauty of nature can improve eyesight? I couldn’t agree more, becuase they actually can change your mood, brighten your day, and calm your spirit. This is a simple recipe that might help you take off your glasses every now and then.
But I can’t. I have to take off something, add something, or change something. Don’t they say you should have your own signature? I totally agree.
Honestly, it’s interesting to watch how others use measuring cups, measuring spoons, a special knife for a special job, etc — so neat and accurate. But some people do not feel comfortable, and cannot work efficiently this way. Some people mainly save the main ingredients, omit the extras, and play without measurements. It’s easier, more fun, and feels special this way. If you relate in this context, then you should have heard of the traditional, old fashioned kitchen club. It’s different from today’s kitchen, with its sophisticated equipment, countless ingredients, and artificial colours and flavours.
By the way, you can count me as a member of this Traditional Kitchen Club. Would you like to join? While thinking, let me explain a few points.
When joining this club, you need to be both patient and smart. There will be moments when you face problems and can’t evade embarrassment. Here are some extracts from my no-fixed measurements experience.
Say, for example, you have guests, and they praise and applaud your hospitality. But then, things don’t stop at liking and praising, for they become intrigued to know your unique recipe, and perhaps save it. Here’s my reaction as a member of the club:
‘The ingredients are ….’ I list them and pause for there is nothing else to add. I don’t have specific measurements. ‘hmm, you know… sometimes measurements vary, depending on personal preferences.’ I explain with a smile.
Now, remember that these occasional visits with guests are much easier than your everyday interactions with your family. You should thank God that you don’t have guests everyday, do you? Here’s some snaps of my everyday experience that you might expect from your family in case you decide to join this club.
Whenever my daughter helps me in the kitchen, she asks the usual questions: ‘how many spoons to add?’ Big or small? Which cup? How long to stir? How long to wait?’ Now she’s the aprentice, and I am the chef, and to make things easy for both of us, I have to estimate. But honestly, my estimations, most of the time, make things taste a bit different — or sometimes entirely different.
And there’s another challenge with my sons. They rely on their own measurements, but they don’t stop asking questions: “Which is which?” “Where is that?” “Can’t find it.” “Please put labels on things, mama.’ I finally did, though as a member of the Traditional Kitchen Club, I am convinced that your sense of smell is all you need to find what’s required for the recipe.
Now it’s tea time – traditional black or green tea. But according to the club, adding herbs to tea is beneficial, so I add some: mainly mint, cardamom, rosemary, or somtimes, thyme which tastes great with tea. (I add one at a time – in case you’re thinking of following the recipe). But, you have to expect that your spouse will miss the familiar taste and ask for a cup of plain tea.
And finally, in this club, while there are no fixed measurements, and freedom is granted, there’s one simple rule to remember: be yourself in your kitchen, and if you prefer simplicity, natural ingredients and warm flavours, then you’re more than welcome, and the Traditional Kitchen Club is waiting you aboard.
With hope and peace,
Nahla
P.S. I was so hungry today – It’s the 28th of Ramadan. Perhaps that’s what inspired me to write this post.
As usual, I came across this quote while scrolling through Instagram. And, as always, it reminded me of what had been my strongest enemy over the years: my worries.
If you’re hoping this post will offer any tips on how or why to overcome your worries, then I am sorry, so sorry. All I can offer are kind words and prayers. Something like; ‘Don’t think about it too much,’ ‘I hope everything will be alright,’ or ‘Don’t forget to hand your worries to God.’ The same simple phrases I use to soothe myself or others when worries strick.
This method might seem useless to some, but to me, it’s the best. Imagine, you’re worried about … say your job as some of your colleagues get fired. So far, you seem to be in the safe zone, but without safe mind for your worries are eating it bit by bit. You pour out your worries to me, and I say: ‘Worrying is like paying a debt you don’t owe.’ Would that really ease your mind? Or would that remind you of your actual debts and make you feel like throwing yourself out of the window?
Everyone has their own worries. It seems that even though life is becoming easier, it’s also becoming harder. There’s nothing quite like finding a good listener, someone to hear your worries, and reassure you with kind advice or heartfelt prayers. But, in most cases, people are busy, and overwhelmed with their own worries. They don’t want to listen, but to talk and nonstop.
Over the years, I’ve learned that most of the things we worry about don’t actually happen. Yet, they stay there inside our heads for a while, tightening each and every muscle, piling pressure on the skull, and causing the most awful type of headache: the tension headache. And you know what? No medication, no scientific tips, no meditation, nothing can relieve this headache like your own determination to overcome your worries.
I mentioned earlier that my worries had been my strongest enemy. They were, but not anymore. Raising a family is no easy task. Raising a family in a foreign land is ever harder. And raising a family with no family or friends around is the hardest of all. You can imagine why worries find it easy to pay me a visit every now and then. But those worries taught me to think differently and grow stronger, and, most importantly to hope for the best, and never lose my faith.
How many beautiful quotes and sayings do you know about friendship? Loads, I am sure.
But, how many of these fantastic quotes reflect your friendship experience in real life? A few, and I believe that “true friendship is rare” is the most realistic adage.
Years ago, as we were relocating, my middle son was so upset because he didn’t want to leave his friends. The more I explained how it was a good promotion opportunity for his father and all of us, the angrier he became. Then he exploded: “It’s easy for you because you have no friends.”
I didn’t know why his words hurt so much, though they were true. It’s not that I have never had any friends, or that I am an introvert, or I don’t like socialising. I am not. Besides, if the long list of contacts on your phone and social media accounts counts as true friends, then I have enough. Do you think they count? I don’t think so, because friendship is about quality, not quantity.
By the way, what is a friend?
A friend is someone who crosses your path naturally, smoothly, and unexpectedly. They make you feel comfortable. They truely listen, and genuinely talk.They make you laugh, weep, and even get mad. They wish you well, and mean no harm. Above all, they trust you, and you trust them.
You may say this perspective of a friend is too angelic to find in the human world. But, I don’t mean they have to be perfect. I don’t expect them to be flawless. I don’t ask for a stong CV with high qualifications, extensive work experience, and a dazzling photo on top of it.
I only expect my friend to be a human with a genuine presence. A friend who wouldn’t disappear all of a sudden, and would ask about me if I did. A friend who promises to call and keep their promise. Is this too much?
Perhaps, that’s why we made the best friends in the simple, carefree, and funny phase of childhood. But later on, things take a different route. In our teen years, friendship becomes moody, insecure, and even dangerous, just a reflection of the phase. In adulthood, it is casual, business – like, and a pastime much like social media. In middle age, it is a good book – the best friend indeed. And, in old age, I believe it will be a blend of good and bad memories.
By the way, this is my perspective on friends and friendship, and as we say in Arabic, it’s not the Holly Quran, so you can disagree.
Now, back to my son’s words. He didn’t ‘intend to hurt my feelings. He was about eleven years old, and his friends meant the world to him. He didn’t know about the phases of friendship, nor did he expect his mother to have gone through the same experiences with their ups and downs. Now, he’s twenty – two, and he has forgotten about his childhood friends, and has to move for better opportunities. It’s funny how I am the one asking about the whereabouts of his old friends. In most cases, he doesn’t know.
Isn’t that just how life is?
With hope and peace,
Nahla
P.S. I started this post last Friday, night but due to many intqerruptions including having a bad cold, It took longer than usual. Finally, it’s all done.
How I missed writing so much over the last few days! Was it three or more days that I didn’t blog a post?
Things happen! It’s not that I ran out of thoughts but I felt just like want to pause. Perhaps because of the terrible headache I got, or because of my little bird following me like my shadow, or because of my daughter’s half-term break, or becuase of my middle son’s move to another city, or because of my eldest’s move to another in a month or so, or because of my husband’s busy work schedule.
But, you know what? All these are excuses, because I know myself well, and I know that I want to pause, and that’s what I did.
However, I haven’t paused reading, though my reading rhythm is slower than usual this month. I love and enjoy the book I’m reading right now. It’s interesting, a different story with special, unexpected turns of events and surprises. I’m determined to finish it today.
I have been reading quite a lot of Daphne du Maurier’s books. My first was Rebecca, and since then, I have read one after another. Though she belonged to a far distant generation, with different writing style, prose, characters, and plots, many people still read her books. Perhaps, some find her work an alternative to contemporary themes, trends, and stories of today. Or, perhaps some enjoy her work because they, too, feel different in their own style, own voice, and own stories.
Aren’t there people who prefer to take the road less travelled by?
Pure and Simple 