Islam For Kids
My parents are getting old.
I never noticed when wrinkles appeared on my father's face and when my mother's flowing black hair started graying.
Maybe they grew old when I told my father I knew more than him about computers and the internet.
Maybe they grew old when I stopped letting my mother kiss me.
Maybe they grew old when I no longer waited expectantly for my mother to return home from work because I was more eager about a text message.
Maybe they grew old when I stopped telling them how much I loved the latest book I read.
Maybe they grow older every time they say they have a daughter to marry off and not one to send to school.
It is an uncanny realization, this.
My parents are getting old.
Shared via Facebook
I never noticed when wrinkles appeared on my father's face and when my mother's flowing black hair started graying.
Maybe they grew old when I told my father I knew more than him about computers and the internet.
Maybe they grew old when I stopped letting my mother kiss me.
Maybe they grew old when I no longer waited expectantly for my mother to return home from work because I was more eager about a text message.
Maybe they grew old when I stopped telling them how much I loved the latest book I read.
Maybe they grow older every time they say they have a daughter to marry off and not one to send to school.
It is an uncanny realization, this.
My parents are getting old.
Shared via Facebook
ليست هناك تعليقات:
إرسال تعليق