The Baby Camel and His Mother

In the golden heart of a vast desert, beneath skies painted with shades of orange and blue, a young camel named Sami walked beside his mother, Layla. The sand stretched endlessly, rolling into dunes as far as his curious eyes could see. Though the desert was home, Sami often wondered why they lived in such a place where life seemed so hard.

One breezy morning, as they stopped near a small patch of desert grass, Sami looked up at his mother with wide, innocent eyes.

“Mother,” he asked, “why do we have humps on our backs? None of the other animals I’ve heard about have these strange humps.”

Layla smiled gently. She had expected these questions, for every young camel eventually wondered about the gifts they carried.

“My dear,” she said softly, “these humps are our treasure. They store fat, which becomes food and water for us when the desert offers nothing. While other animals would starve or faint, we can keep walking for days, even weeks, without food or water. Our humps are the reason we survive where others cannot.”

Sami blinked, his small ears twitching. “So, our humps are like magic bags?”

Layla chuckled, the sound warm and comforting. “Yes, you could say that. Magic bags given by Allah to help us on long journeys.”

Sami thought about it, nodding slowly. But soon his curiosity sparked again.

“Mother, why do we have such long legs? They make us look funny. Sometimes I trip because of them.”

Layla leaned down and nuzzled him gently. “Our long legs are another gift. They lift our bodies high above the burning sand so the heat does not scorch us. They also allow us to walk far, far distances without tiring quickly. While a horse may gallop fast, it cannot match our strength over the desert.”

Sami’s eyes lit up with pride. “So, we are strong travelers!”

“Exactly,” Layla agreed. “We are the ships of the desert.”

But Sami wasn’t finished. His nose wrinkled as he thought of something else.

“Mother, why do we have long eyelashes and thick eyebrows? They sometimes tickle my eyes, and I don’t like it.”

Layla laughed softly. “Ah, little one, those lashes and brows are our shields. When the desert winds blow and the sand whirls like a storm, our eyes stay safe. We can still see even when others would be blinded.”

Sami widened his eyes. “So, the desert can never beat us?”

Layla smiled, proud of her son’s wonder. “Yes, my dear. The desert is harsh, but we were made for it. Every part of us—the hump, the legs, the eyelashes—has a purpose. Nothing about us is useless.”

Sami felt a spark of joy inside him. For the first time, he looked at his reflection in a small pool of water nearby. His hump, his legs, his lashes—they no longer looked strange. They looked powerful, like armor given especially to him.

“Mother,” Sami said after a pause, “if we are so perfectly made, why do people keep camels in zoos? I once heard travelers say they saw camels locked behind fences in the city.”

Layla’s eyes grew sad, though her voice remained calm. “That is the way of humans sometimes. They may not always understand the value of freedom. In a zoo, camels cannot travel the desert as they were meant to. They cannot show their strength, their patience, or their endurance. It is like keeping a ship tied at the shore, never letting it sail.”

Sami’s small heart felt heavy. “That sounds so unfair. We belong here, in the desert.”

“Yes,” Layla whispered, her gaze stretching across the golden horizon. “Our true beauty is seen only when we live as we were created to live. Remember this, my child: never forget who you are or the gifts you carry. Even if the world misunderstands you, you must know your worth.”

Sami pressed closer to his mother, comforted by her warmth. The desert wind swirled around them, but he no longer feared it. He felt proud—proud of his hump, his legs, his lashes, and most of all, proud of being a camel.

That night, under a blanket of stars, Sami drifted to sleep beside his mother. He dreamed not of being any other creature, but of walking endlessly across the desert, carrying travelers, crossing dunes, and proving that he was indeed the true ship of the desert.

And in his dream, he heard his mother’s voice echo:

“Every gift has a purpose. Every purpose has a place. And you, my son, were made for the desert.”


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✨ Moral of the Story:
Every creature is perfectly designed for its purpose. Sometimes, we may not see the value in our differences, but those differences are the very strengths that make us unique.