A kiss from my mother

I have two usrah groups under me. One group is for primary and secondary school students and the other is for kindergarten teachers whose ages are 30 and above, married with kids. So yesterday’s session was about writing down the things that we love and the little things that we appreciate. 
During my session with the students, we listened to everyone’s list of gratitudes. When a 16-year-old teenage boy said the little thing that he appreciates is a kiss from his mother, I realise the extent that love can take. He’s tall and bulky, has tanned skin and I didn’t expect him to be very close to his mother. What drew my attention the most was that he loves being the saviour to her. 
And on the second usrah session, where the boy’s mother happens to be in, she told us that he is the king of her heart. I melted.  
It’s true that they say our children long for our love. 
They long for our attention and care. 
They desire for our physical touch. 
For us to hug them. 
to snuggle and cuddle them. 
to hold their hands. 
to comb and braid their hair. 
to sing Alif Baa Taa
and to listen to their day in school. 
As my psychiatrist had mentioned, spend some 15-30 quality minutes daily with your children to show that you actually love them. 
Just that few minutes. 
With that, they’ll be conditioned that yes my parents love me and I know they do. Why? Simply because of their presence and interest during my times of happy and sad.

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