The Window That Cried

In a quiet town wrapped in mist, stood an old wooden house on the corner of Hollow Street. It wasn’t the biggest house, nor the brightest, but something about it made people slow down as they walked by. Maybe it was the strange ivy that grew only on one side. Or perhaps it was the small window on the second floor the one everyone called The Window That Cried.

Nobody knew why they called it that. But the truth was, every time it rained, that one window would fog up and streak down with water, even on the inside. People thought it was just a leak or old glass. But the children whispered stories they said the house remembered something. Something sad.

A Lonely Girl with Quiet Eyes

In that house lived a girl named Lina. She had big brown eyes and always wore her long black hair in a braid. She was quiet, always carrying a notebook, and hardly ever spoke in class. After school, she never stayed to play. She would run straight home and sit by that window the crying window.

Lina didn’t have a mother. She had lost her when she was just five. Her father, Mr. Dawood, used to be cheerful and kind. But after his wife passed away, he became cold and distant. He worked all day and barely spoke to Lina anymore. The house, once full of music and laughter, now echoed with silence.

But the window that old, mysterious window became her secret friend.

Whispers in the Rain

One stormy afternoon, as thunder rumbled like a hungry beast, Lina sat at the window with her notebook. She traced her fingers along the foggy glass. And suddenly…

She heard a whisper.

Not from outside.

Not from inside.

But from the window itself.

"Are you lonely, too?" the whisper said.

Lina’s heart jumped. She turned around. No one was there.

“Who said that?” she asked, voice shaking.

The window fogged again, and this time, a small heart shape appeared on the inside, drawn in the mist. Lina blinked, wide-eyed.

From that day, whenever it rained, the window would "speak" to her. Not with words exactly, but with shapes and drawings smiling faces, sad eyes, flowers, and sometimes teardrops. Lina began to talk back, telling it about her day, about her mother, and about how she missed her father’s hugs.

The Day Her Father Saw

One evening, the rain came down harder than ever. The thunder was loud, and the wind howled like wolves. Lina was crying silently by the window, her notebook open to a drawing of her mother’s face.

Mr. Dawood came upstairs, maybe to check on her. But when he reached the room, he froze.

There was a glowing outline on the glass a woman’s face. Gentle, smiling, loving.

It was his wife’s face.

He stepped closer and saw Lina’s drawings, her notes, her loneliness poured out in words and tears. And suddenly, something broke inside him.

“I’m sorry, my little girl,” he whispered, kneeling beside her. “I’ve been so far away…”

Lina looked at him, eyes full of tears. “Do you believe the window cries, Baba?”

He hugged her tight the first hug in years and replied, “I believe it was crying for us… waiting for us to remember how to feel again.”

The Window That No Longer Cried

After that night, things changed. Slowly. Gently. The house began to smile again. Mr. Dawood cooked dinner, played Lina’s favorite songs, and even helped her with her stories. Laughter returned like sunlight through clouds.

And the window?

It still fogged up when it rained, but it no longer cried.

Instead, it would show smiling suns, hearts, and little messages like “You are loved.”

Some say the window had a spirit. Others think it was just Lina’s imagination.

But if you ever walk down Hollow Street on a rainy day…

Look up.

You might just see a little heart drawn in the mist, reminding the world of the girl who taught her father to love again.

Moral of the Story:

Sometimes, the things that seem broken are just waiting for someone to listen. And sometimes, even a window can cry when a heart forgets how to.