diy

Do it Yourself; Tips and ideas for DIY projects to create your next family heirloom, personalize your photo album and more.

The Weight of Glass Petals
The air in Elara’s sunroom always tasted of dust and something vaguely metallic, like old pennies left too long in a forgotten jar. It wasn’t a sunroom in the cheerful, plant-filled sense, no. This was a sanctuary for her flowers, shelves upon shelves of them, each one painstakingly crafted from glass, catching the weak afternoon light like tiny, frozen moments. A garden of crystal, she called it, though no soil touched these roots, and no bee ever buzzed near their delicate, sharp petals. They were her life, her entire world, balanced precariously on antique mahogany.
By HAADI2 months ago in Families
What Happens When She Is Dishonored?
A World With No Honor A lack of honor—especially toward the feminine—doesn’t just feel wrong. It fractures everything it touches.
By Aja Truth2 months ago in Families
The Unspoken Volume
Elara's car crunched gravel, a sound too loud for the oppressive quiet of her grandmother's property. The house, an old brick beast, sat slumped under the weight of years, ivy clutching its walls like desperate fingers. She hadn’t been here since she was a little kid, not properly, and the air still carried that same smell: dust, lemon polish, and something else, something sharp and metallic, like old pennies.
By HAADI2 months ago in Families
The Hidden Gospels:
What if the Bible we know is only half the story? What if Jesus spoke in secret code because humanity wasn’t ready to hear the truth — that the real enemy isn’t sin, but illusion itself? The banned Gospels tried to tell us this centuries ago, before power rewrote the script.
By Aja Truth2 months ago in Families
The Scent of Other Basil
The kitchen always smelled of garlic and something else, something vague and sweet, like old wood and sunshine. Elena, my mother, leaned against the counter, hands kneading olive oil into dough for focaccia, her knuckles white. Her voice, thin with age but still carrying the lilt of Calabria, started on the same story, the one about her childhood, about Nonna Mariella’s kitchen, back in some village I couldn’t even point to on a map. ‘The morning light,’ she’d say, eyes unfocused, looking right through me, ‘it poured through the window like thick honey, right onto Nonna’s hands as she shelled peas.’ I could see it. I could feel that light, warm on my own skin. Hear the gentle pop of the peas from their pods, a quiet rhythm against the chirping of crickets outside an open window I’d never sat beside.
By HAADI2 months ago in Families
THE FIRST ORNAMENT
Before the decorating even began— before anyone opened a box, before a single branch was fluffed— something beautiful happened.
By Karen Sanderson2 months ago in Families
The Weight of Unsaid Words
The kitchen light hummed, a flat, sickly yellow against the late-night dark. Michael sat there, like he did most nights, hunched over the Formica table. A cheap ballpoint pen, half-chewed, lay beside a fresh sheet of lined paper. He'd bought a whole ream of it, years ago, thinking he'd write more often. Mostly, it just sat in the cupboard, waiting for these quiet, desperate hours. The house was too big now, too empty. The silence pressed in, a physical thing against his eardrums, broken only by the refrigerator's distant thrum.
By HAADI2 months ago in Families
The Weight of Unread Pages
The library swallowed the light. Not just dimmed it, but chewed it up, leaving only tired, yellowed slivers struggling through the arched windows. Clara pulled the heavy oak door inward, the groan of hinges a familiar, weary sound, like an old man clearing his throat. Dust motes danced in the lone shaft of light cutting through the gloom, a spotlight on neglect. The air tasted of old paper, decaying leather, and something else—stagnation. Her father, Arthur, was a hunched shadow at his usual desk, spectacles perched on his nose, a magnifying glass held to a crumbling page. He didn't look up, just grunted. "You're here." Not a question. Never a question with Arthur. Just a statement of undeniable fact, delivered like a verdict.
By HAADI2 months ago in Families
When you fall in love, you lose an average of two close friends. AI-Generated.
The Lonely Side of Love: Why Falling in Love Costs You an Average of Two Close Friends Picture this. You meet someone special. Your days fill with texts, dates, and endless talks. Then, poof—your phone goes quiet with old friends. That group chat? It fades. Why? New love grabs your full attention. You might not notice at first.
By Story silver book 2 months ago in Families
A Multitude of Blessings
Today was Thanksgiving here in the United States. I am nestled in tonight in a warm home with heat, two adorable children who got to spend the day with their Mommy, and my boyfriend. I have had a lot of things lately that I am not exactly thankful for, but I wanted to take a moment to count my blessings.
By The Schizophrenic Mom2 months ago in Families
Creative Scrapbooking Ideas for Memory-Keeping That Last a Lifetime
Scrapbooking has always been more than just paper, glue, and photographs. At its core, it is a way to preserve moments, celebrate relationships, and tell personal stories in a tactile, visual form.
By Richard Bailey3 months ago in Families
The Sacred Bond: A Journey Through Marriage in Islam
The Beginning: The Foundation of Love and Purpose Marriage — a word that holds the essence of life, love, responsibility, and completion. In the world’s eyes, marriage is merely a contract between two people. But in Islam, it is far more than that — it is an act of worship, a Sunnah of the beloved Prophet Muhammad ﷺ, and a sacred bond designed by Allah Himself.
By Anees Khan3 months ago in Families