Father: The Greatest Support After God

Tears welled up in Zohra’s eyes. Her heart was full of emotions, yet the words wouldn’t reach her lips. She replayed the journey from her childhood to adulthood like a photo album—and in every picture, there was only one face that brought her comfort: her father's.

Zohra grew up in a small village. Her mother had passed away when she was very young, and since then, her father, Haji Ilyas, had been both a mother and a father to her. He worked as a laborer—spending long, exhausting days under the scorching sun, lifting bricks and cement, just to make sure his daughter never felt the sting of deprivation.

People would say, “Ilyas, your daughter is becoming too bold. You give her too much freedom.”
But Ilyas would only smile and reply, “I won’t become a barrier in her flight. The world may try to stop her—but not her father.”

One day, Zohra said, “Abba, I want to go to the city and join a college.”
Ilyas saw the spark in her eyes and buried his own desires deep down. “Go, my daughter,” he said. “Chase your dreams. I leave you with my prayers and my shadow.”

Arriving in the city, Zohra discovered a whole new world—new people, new ways of life. At times, she forgot the man behind her struggles—the father who continued sending money through hard labor. Sometimes, she even complained,
“Abba, the money you send isn’t enough. Everything is expensive here.”

All Ilyas could say was, “I’m trying, my dear. I’ll find more work.”

Then one day, Zohra fell in love with a boy. He seemed decent, but his mindset clashed with Ilyas’s values. When Zohra told her father, he didn’t protest. He only said, “If you’re happy, I’m happy. I’ll only give you my prayers—not my resistance.”

But after marriage, Zohra learned that love alone doesn’t sustain life—understanding and patience do. When her new home failed to offer both, she made a tearful call to her father late one night and said, “Abba, I want to come back.”

Without a single question, Ilyas replied, “A daughter’s true home is always her father’s home. Just come back—I’ll handle the rest.”

Zohra returned to the same humble village she had once left. She expected criticism from people, complaints from her father—perhaps even rejection.

But when she knocked on the door, her father opened it and embraced her tightly without a word.
“My daughter has returned. That’s all I ever needed,” he said.

People whispered, “Ilyas, your daughter came back after marriage. That’s a disgrace.”
But Ilyas calmly replied, “People can think what they want. For me, my daughter was, is, and will always be my pride.”

Zohra began to realize that every relationship in the world comes with conditions—do good, and you’re loved; make a mistake, and you’re abandoned. But there’s one bond that loves unconditionally, that provides without asking, that forgives endlessly.
That bond is: a father’s.

Ilyas returned to his labor work. Zohra started sewing at home to help out. Together, they supported each other. For the first time, Zohra truly understood that respect doesn’t always come from the world—sometimes, it comes from a tired father’s quiet smile.

Time passed. Zohra learned from her mistakes and became everything a daughter should be. Every day, she lived with the realization that after God, if anyone can love without limits, it’s a father.

One day, Zohra held her father’s hand and said,
“Abba, I’m strong now. It’s my turn to be your shelter.”

Tears glistened in Ilyas’s eyes.
“If you’ve become my prayer, my dear, then what more could I ask for?”


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Whenever someone prays, “Oh God, grant my parents a long life,” the deepest part of that prayer rests in a father’s silent smile—the smile that becomes a blessing in every sorrow, a strength behind every child’s success.

Do you know a father like that—who gave you everything while asking for nothing?