adoption

Adoption proves that sometimes, you can choose your family; all about the process before, during and after adoption.

Where The Ash Tree Blooms.
** “Beneath the Ash Tree”** The first time they met, the world was loud. It was late spring, the village fair spilling laughter and the scent of warm bread into the air. Music threaded between the stalls, pulling strangers together, weaving their footsteps into the same tapestry. She was standing near the old ash tree that shaded the cobblestone path, her hands wrapped around a cup of cider. He was passing by, almost too quickly, when a sudden gust of wind tugged her scarf into the air.
By Adil Khalid6 months ago in Families
The 30-Day Challenge That Changed My Life
Glade to be here again. Today I am sharing of someone real life experience to boost your spirit.. Thirty days doesn’t sound like a long time. It’s just one page on the calendar, a blink in the bigger picture of life. But in my case, it was enough to completely change the way I work, think, and live.
By Hamid Khan6 months ago in Families
The Defiant Stage
We All Fear It - "The Stage." Broken Doors. Scornful Responses. Refusal to Hear the Simplest Requests. Suddenly, Your Once-Acceptable Child Becomes a Storm of "No!" and "You Can't Make Me!" Defiance Blooms Like an Unexpected Weed in Your Home Garden.
By Echoes of Life6 months ago in Families
When The Last Goodbye Broke My Heart
It’s strange how the world can continue spinning as if nothing has happened, even when yours has just shattered into a thousand pieces. That day, I stood at the departure gate of Islamabad International Airport, my fingers gripping the cold metal railing, my eyes locked on the man who had been my everything for the last four years. His name was Hamza, and until a week before, I thought we had all the time in the world. His flight was in twenty minutes. Twenty minutes—that’s all the time I had left before the universe pulled us apart. I told myself I would be strong, that I wouldn’t cry in front of him. But strength is a fragile thing when love is bleeding inside you. The announcement blared overhead, calling passengers for boarding. Hamza turned to me with a forced smile, his eyes betraying the storm he was holding back. He cupped my face with both hands, his palms warm against my cheeks. “Don’t cry,” he whispered. “You know I have to do this.” I swallowed hard. “Knowing doesn’t make it any easier.” His thumb brushed away the tear that had already escaped. For a moment, we just stood there, holding each other’s gaze, as if memorizing every detail before the inevitable separation. The scent of freshly brewed coffee drifted from a nearby café, mixing with the faint tang of airport disinfectant. Luggage wheels clicked rhythmically against the tiled floor as strangers hurried past, each wrapped in their own stories. But for me, the world had narrowed to just him. We had met in the most ordinary way—two strangers assigned to work on the same university project. He had been quiet at first, shy even, but there was something about the way he listened when I spoke, as if every word mattered. Over time, the project turned into friendship, and friendship into love. We shared countless late-night conversations, dreams over cups of steaming chai, and walks in the rain where the world felt like ours alone. But life is rarely kind to lovers who dream too much. His father’s illness had left their family struggling, and the only way for Hamza to help was to accept a job offer abroad. It was a chance for him to secure their future, but it meant leaving me behind. We had talked about long distance, about visiting each other, about how love could survive miles. But deep down, we both knew this goodbye was more than just temporary. His world was about to change, and I was terrified that I wouldn’t fit into it anymore. The boarding announcement came again, sharper this time. He looked toward the gate, then back at me. “Promise me you’ll take care of yourself,” he said, his voice breaking. I wanted to tell him I’d be fine, that I’d stay strong. But the truth is, I didn’t know how to live in a world where he wasn’t just a short drive away. “I can’t promise that,” I admitted. “But I can promise I’ll never forget you.” His lips trembled into a sad smile. “That’s all I could ever ask.” He leaned in and pressed his forehead against mine. I felt his breath, warm and unsteady, brushing my skin. “I love you,” he whispered, and the words hit me like a wave—beautiful, overwhelming, and devastating. My arms wrapped around him, clinging desperately, as if I could keep time from moving forward. But time is merciless. He slowly pulled away, and for a second, his hand lingered in mine before it slipped free. The sudden emptiness was like losing air from my lungs. He turned toward the gate, his shoulders squared but his steps heavy. I watched him hand over his boarding pass, watched the officer scan it, watched him walk down the tunnel that led to the plane. And then he was gone. Just like that. I stood there for a long time, staring at the empty space where he had been. My chest ached in a way I couldn’t describe. Around me, the airport kept moving, indifferent to the heartbreak that had just unfolded. Someone laughed near the café. A child cried. A suitcase rolled by. And still, I couldn’t move. My phone buzzed in my pocket. It was a message from him. “Boarding now. Don’t cry, my love. I’ll write to you soon.” I wanted to believe him. I wanted to believe that letters, calls, and video chats could replace the comfort of sitting across from each other in silence, of holding hands on a late-night drive. But love, I was learning, isn’t just about connection—it’s about presence. And he was about to become a ghost in my life, someone I’d see only through screens and in memories. Days turned into weeks. We texted at first, called when we could, but time zones and exhaustion built walls between us. His new life was demanding. Mine felt empty. Slowly, the conversations grew shorter, the replies less frequent. And then, one night, after hours of staring at my phone, I realized we hadn’t spoken in days. The silence was no longer an accident—it had become a habit. Months later, I was at the same airport, this time waiting for a friend’s arrival. I walked past the same gate where we had said goodbye. The memory hit me so hard I had to stop. I could still see him standing there, still feel the weight of that last hug. But the ache was different now—quieter, softer, like an old scar that still remembers the wound. I understood then that our last goodbye hadn’t just broken my heart—it had also taught me something. Love doesn’t always end with anger or betrayal. Sometimes, it ends because life pulls two people in different directions, and no matter how much they care, they can’t hold on without losing themselves. I walked away from that gate with a bittersweet smile. Hamza had left a part of himself with me, and I had done the same for him. Our goodbye had been painful, but it was also proof that what we had was real. And though it hurt, I would always be grateful for the love that had once been mine—even if it now lived only in memories. The world kept moving, and so did I. But every now and then, when the air is heavy with the scent of coffee and the sound of rolling suitcases, I remember the day when the last goodbye broke my heart—and I know a part of it will always belong to him.
By Sajid 6 months ago in Families
When the Wind Took Its Name
The Last Day of Its Laughter The sun was supposed to be shining that day. The Weather app even had a little smiling sun icon next to the date April 14. It was a weekday, the kind where the wind blows warm against your face and carries stories from other cities. Or maybe warnings. We could never tell the difference.
By Echoes of Life6 months ago in Families
Diagnosis and Treatment of Hair Loss Disorders
Hair loss is a common concern affecting millions of men and women worldwide. It can occur due to various reasons including genetics, hormonal changes, nutritional deficiencies, stress, autoimmune diseases, or environmental factors. Understanding the root cause is crucial to choosing the most effective treatment plan. This guide explores the causes of hair loss, advanced treatment options, and preventive lifestyle strategies to help manage and possibly reverse the condition.
By Ahmad shah6 months ago in Families
10 Best Recipes for Living a Happy Life
The Art of Living a Happy Life Happiness is the engine of life. A happy person doesn’t just smile more—they live longer, get sick less often, and recover more quickly. Research shows that positive emotions and an optimistic outlook can protect the heart, boost immunity, and reduce the risk of mental illnesses. But happiness doesn’t always come naturally. It’s something we can nurture and build with conscious effort.
By Echoes of Life6 months ago in Families
Echoes of Blur
There’s a sound every parent hears — not at first, but as time goes on. It’s not a scream, not a taunt, not a cry.
By Echoes of Life6 months ago in Families
The Kneeling Mother
The sun had not yet risen over the city of Kobe, Japan, when the earth began to tremble. It started as a low rumble, like a distant thunder, and then quickly escalated into a violent roar. Buildings swayed like trees in a storm, glass shattered, screams filled the air, and within moments, everything turned into dust and chaos.
By Ahmad shah6 months ago in Families
Embracing the Journey: The Beauty of Life’s Everyday Moments
As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, Maya stood quietly at the top of the hill behind her home. Her breath formed soft clouds in the crisp morning air, and a gentle breeze carried the scent of pine and damp earth. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the warmth of the rising sun touch her face, and stretched her arms wide as if to hug the world. ‎ ‎For years, Maya had chased the idea that happiness lived somewhere far ahead — in a better job, a bigger house, or a more exciting life. She was always reaching for what was next, convinced that once she arrived at her goals, then she would finally feel fulfilled. But life had its own plans, and it taught her its most important lessons not in the grand achievements, but in the quiet in-betweens. ‎ ‎It all began to change the year her father passed away. He had been a simple man who found joy in the smallest things — the smell of coffee in the morning, the laughter of his grandchildren, the way the sun set over his garden. At his funeral, a friend said something Maya never forgot: "He lived well, not because he had everything, but because he appreciated everything he had." ‎ ‎Those words stuck with her. She realized that her constant striving had become a habit of waiting — waiting for life to be “good enough” to enjoy. But her father had enjoyed life in every moment, no matter what it brought. Slowly, Maya began to see life differently. It wasn’t about reaching a destination, but about how she walked the path. ‎ ‎She began keeping a small journal where, each day, she would write down three things she was grateful for. At first, it felt silly — what difference could a few words make? But after a few weeks, she noticed something changing. The act of noticing made her present. Suddenly, her morning coffee wasn’t just a routine — it was a ritual of comfort. Her walk to work wasn’t a chore — it became a time to observe the colors of the sky and the rhythm of her breath. ‎ ‎Gratitude opened her eyes to the richness of life she had overlooked. ‎ ‎She also learned to welcome growth, even when it came wrapped in discomfort. Life had its challenges — work stress, moments of doubt, and relationships that tested her patience. But instead of running from these experiences, Maya began asking herself, “What is this here to teach me?” That one question transformed setbacks into stepping stones. ‎ ‎She read more, listened more, and began spending time with people who lifted her up — not by being perfect, but by being real. People who talked about their struggles openly, who didn’t pretend to have it all together. From them, she learned that peace doesn’t come from control — it comes from trust. Trust in the process, in yourself, and in the unfolding of each day. ‎ ‎One of the most powerful changes came when she stopped comparing her life to others. Social media used to make her feel like she was behind — that everyone else was happier, more successful, more “together.” But comparison is a thief, she realized — a thief of joy, of presence, of contentment. So, she set boundaries, both online and in real life, and started defining success on her own terms. ‎ ‎Today, Maya lives more slowly and more intentionally. She works hard, but she also makes time for long walks, real conversations, and quiet evenings with a book. Her home is filled with laughter, not perfection. And she celebrates the small wins — not just the promotions and milestones, but the moments when she chooses kindness over anger, patience over stress, gratitude over frustration. ‎ ‎She still has goals, of course. Dreams and plans for the future. But now she walks toward them with an open heart, knowing that the journey itself is where life happens. ‎ ‎As she stood on the hill, watching the sun rise higher in the sky, Maya smiled. Life wasn’t perfect — but it was precious. And that was more than enough. ‎ ‎ ‎--- ‎ ‎Moral of the Story: ‎True fulfillment doesn’t come from having everything, but from appreciating what we already have, growing through challenges, and being present in each moment. Life is not a race to a perfect ending, but a journey to be embraced — one small, beautiful step at a time.
By Muhammad Saad 6 months ago in Families
The Old Banyan Tree
When Nadeem returned to his village after spending a long time of 30 years, his surprise knew no bounds. Instead of mud houses, there were brick huts, the village roads were paved, every house had gas and electricity connections, instead of bicycles, motorbikes and cars, and instead of bullocks used for farming, modern machinery… It was proven that his village had also developed with the passage of time.
By Echoes of Life6 months ago in Families
How can children be protected from the negative effects of mobile and internet?
Today's era is the era of scientific progress. Many conveniences have been created due to the continuous development of science and new inventions and this scientific progress is only thanks to knowledge. Rather, it is a fact that man has achieved the honor of being the best of creations thanks to knowledge. Man has made new useful inventions thanks to his knowledge. Mobile phones and the internet are among the few important inventions of the modern era that have changed the course of human life.
By Echoes of Life6 months ago in Families