Latest Stories
Most recently published stories in Families.
8 Thriller Movie Masterpieces So Great That They Became the Blueprint
The best thrillers are those that don't just entertain but redefine what the genre itself can be. Ranging from unforgettable villains to groundbreaking storytelling and reality-bending concepts, there exist quite a few masterpieces that have set the standard that countless movies would later attempt to follow.
By General gyanabout an hour ago in Families
My Mother And George Michael
On Christmas Day 2016, news broke that George Michael had died. It was late in the evening, and my mother and I were sat in front of the TV. Our friends and family had gone home, we had eaten way too much food and we were tired. My mother was asleep, in fact. I wasn’t. I was scrolling, looking for anything to watch. It was Christmas Day, surely something good would be on. But what I got were reruns, repeats, Christmas specials from the year before that I had already seen… I sort of gave up and logged onto Facebook just to pass the time. That’s when I saw it. George Michael had died. I immediately jumped out of the sofa. That couldn’t be. Or maybe it could. It was 2016, after all. I put on Sky News because who can believe anything they see on Facebook these days? And there it was. The man I had grown up with had died. My mother didn’t know. Not for another minute, when I had to gather the courage to wake her up. I was crying and I knew she would immediately know something was wrong. I gently woke her up and pointed at the TV…
By Carol Saint Martinabout 3 hours ago in Families
How Do You Know You Are the Toxic or Narcissistic One
We spend a lot of time learning how to identify toxic people. We read articles, watch videos, and swap stories with friends about narcissists we survived. Rarely do we stop and ask a harder question. What if some of the behavior I am angry about exists in me too?
By Eunice Kamauabout 4 hours ago in Families
The Farmer and His Three Sons
In a quiet village surrounded by wide fields and dusty paths, there lived a hardworking farmer. His hands were rough from years of working the land, and his face carried the marks of long days spent under the sun. Farming was not just his work; it was his life. Before the sun rose each morning, he would already be walking toward his fields, and after sunset, he would return home tired but grateful.
By Sudais Zakwanabout 9 hours ago in Families
Home Through the Winter Rain
Winter arrived gently that year, not with snowstorms or icy winds, but with steady rain that seemed to fall without end. The sky was a soft gray, heavy and calm, and the air smelled of wet roads and cold earth. On one such evening, a small family climbed into their own car, ready to begin the familiar drive home. The engine started with a low, comforting sound. The headlights cut through the mist, glowing warmly against the rain. The parents sat in the front seats, wrapped in thick coats, their breaths forming faint clouds before the heater slowly warmed the air. The mother adjusted the mirror, smiling softly as she glanced back at the children. The father rested his hands on the steering wheel, careful and steady, already focused on the road ahead. In the back seat, the children were bundled together like little birds hiding from the cold. Their jackets were bright against the dark interior of the car, and their shoes were still damp from puddles they had jumped in earlier that day. One child hugged a stuffed bear tightly, its fur worn soft from years of love. Another leaned close to the window, watching the raindrops slide down the glass in twisting paths. “Look,” one of them whispered, tracing a finger along the foggy window. “That one is winning.” The rain seemed alive outside, each drop racing the others, merging and separating, disappearing at the bottom of the glass. Streetlights reflected in the wet road, stretching into long golden lines that shimmered and broke apart as the car moved forward. The heater clicked louder now, filling the car with warmth. Slowly, gloves were pulled off, scarves loosened. The tight cold of winter faded into something soft and safe. The radio played quietly in the background—an old song the parents knew by heart. They didn’t sing out loud, but their heads moved gently to the rhythm. As the car traveled through the rain, the father slowed at each turn, careful not to rush. Tires whispered against the wet road. The mother pointed out familiar places as they passed—a closed bakery, a dark park, a row of houses glowing faintly from inside. Everything looked different in the rain, quieter, calmer, as if the world itself was resting. The children grew sleepy, their earlier excitement fading into peaceful silence. One rested their head against the other’s shoulder. The stuffed bear slipped onto the seat between them. Outside, the rain tapped steadily on the roof, a soft rhythm like a lullaby. “Do you remember,” the mother said gently, “when we used to drive like this before you were born?” The father smiled. “Long drives. Late nights. Just us and the road.” “And now,” she said, glancing back again, “we’re all here.” The children didn’t fully hear the words, but they felt their meaning. They felt it in the warmth of the car, in the way the parents’ voices sounded calm and close, in the steady movement carrying them safely forward. The road curved toward the edge of town. Trees stood bare, their branches dark and shining with rain. Water pooled along the sides of the street, reflecting the passing lights like tiny mirrors. Somewhere far away, a dog barked once, then fell silent again. One child stirred and yawned. “Are we almost home?” “Soon,” the father answered softly. That word—home—settled into the car like another blanket. Home meant dry clothes and warm soup. It meant lights in the windows and shoes left by the door. It meant safety from the cold rain and the long gray sky. As they drove, the rain began to slow. The drops grew smaller, lighter, until they were more like a mist. The clouds above thinned just enough to let a pale glow through, not quite moonlight, but something close. The world felt gentler somehow, as if winter itself had decided to be kind. The car turned onto a quiet street. Houses lined the road, each one familiar, each one holding its own small stories. The father parked slowly, switching off the engine. Suddenly, the world felt very still. The rain whispered one last time, then faded into silence. The children woke fully now, blinking and stretching. Coats were zipped, hats pulled on. The mother gathered the stuffed bear and handed it back with a smile. The father stepped out first, opening the door and letting in a breath of cool winter air. They walked together toward their house, shoes splashing softly in shallow puddles. The porch light glowed warmly, welcoming them home. Inside, the house smelled faintly of dinner and clean air. The door closed behind them, shutting out the cold and the rain. Jackets were hung up. Shoes were lined neatly by the door. The children laughed quietly, already talking about tomorrow. The parents watched them for a moment, tired but content. Outside, winter continued its slow rain. Inside, the family moved easily through their evening, wrapped in comfort and love. And though the night was cold, and the roads were wet, the journey had been enough—because they had made it home together.
By Sahir E Shafqata day ago in Families
Fleeing Home - Again.... Content Warning.
Today I am not going to lie about or sugarcoat how I am doing. I am doing terribly. My children and I ended up fleeing our home last night. Again. Because of a man who decided to tell me that I had no other option than that he was going to be accessing my property.
By The Schizophrenic Moma day ago in Families
DEEP HEIGHTS
I Love How He Loves Me GRACELLA NOV 19, 2025 (Just a Devotional): I am left in a sweet place here and had a wonderful time with my Lord, as I always do. But this was different. Unspeakably different. It is not really something I can share, because it is just one of those things that belongs to you; if you know what I mean.
By Kadee Grace2 days ago in Families
