In a small village, there lived a couple named Rahim and Amina. They were not wealthy, but their hearts overflowed with love for their two children—Arif and Laila.
Rahim worked long hours as a rickshaw puller, while Amina stitched clothes for neighbors to add a few extra coins to the household. Every evening, when Rahim returned home, his shirt soaked in sweat and his back aching, Amina would greet him with a smile, hiding her own tiredness.
They had little for themselves, but they dreamed of giving their children the life they never had.One night, Arif came home with shining eyes and said,
“Abbu, my teacher said I’m good at mathematics. If I study hard, I can become an engineer!”
Rahim’s heart swelled with pride, though he silently wondered how he would pay for Arif’s higher studies.
Not long after, Laila whispered to her mother,“Ammu, I want to become a doctor, so I can help poor people like us.”
Amina kissed her forehead and said, “InshaAllah, my child. You will.”
But deep inside, she worried—medicine required years of expensive schooling.From that day, Rahim worked longer hours, sometimes pulling his rickshaw late into the night.
His hands grew calloused, his body weaker, but he never complained. Amina often skipped meals so her children could eat more, telling them, “I’m not hungry today.”
She stitched until her fingers bled, but she hid the pain with a smile.Years passed, and the children grew. Arif got a scholarship to study engineering in the city.
Laila was admitted to medical school. The parents could hardly believe their dreams were coming true. Yet, to pay for books and extra expenses, Rahim sold his old rickshaw and bought a cheaper, broken one.
Amina sold her wedding jewelry, the last symbol of her youth, so her children would never feel less than others.Finally, after years of struggle, Arif became an engineer, and Laila became a doctor.
On graduation day, both stood in front of their parents with tears in their eyes. Arif held Rahim’s rough hands and said,“These hands built my future, Abbu.”Laila hugged Amina and whispered,“
Your sacrifices gave me wings, Ammu.”Rahim and Amina said nothing. They only smiled, their eyes shining with silent joy.
They never asked for anything in return—the happiness of their children was their only reward.
And so, the story of Rahim and Amina became the story of countless parents everywhere—ordinary heroes, who quietly give up their own dreams so their children can live theirs
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