Many years ago a man and a woman were married, but they had no children for five years. They prayed to Allah to give them a good boy and finally, Allah accepted their prayers. They had a boy and they called him Ibrahim.
They loved their son. When Ibrahim grew up to become a young man he married a good girl and they had a relaxed life with his father and mother for two years. But then his uncle died, and his uncle’s wife and her children came to Ibrahim’s home to live with them.
The days went by. Day by day Ibrahim found he had different feelings about his uncle’s wife. Yes, he had fallen in love, he told his mother. “I want her and I want to get married,” he told her. His mother would not accept that and she asked the woman to find another house to live in.
She left, but Ibrahim become sad and nervous when he learned the news. He changed his behavior toward his parents and wife. He fought with them all of the time. This continued until his parents become sick. First, his father died, and then his mother died. He had a wife and eight children, but without his parents, Ibrahim was lonely and thought about his life. He asked himself, “What did I do with my parents and family life? Why did I spend every moment of my life with this terrible behavior?”
Ibrahim repented. But it was too late to help. His parents were sleeping in the cemetery. Now in his 50s, tall and thin, Ibrahim goes every Friday to the cemetery and cries for them. He begs his mother to please wake up and come home.
This is a true story. I want to say with this story that we should give respect to our parents and share our happiness with them because these moments won’t come back.
Photo: Ahmad Masood/Reuters