In a quiet corner of the park, colorful flowers bloomed happily, filling the air with their sweet scent. While the swing area was lively and crowded with children, this spot remained peaceful and still.
Close to the flowerbeds, a young boy sat curled up, leaning against the trunk of an old tree. His round, innocent face was wet with tears. He could not have been more than ten years old. Sitting among the blossoms, he looked almost like a flower himself—except this flower was weeping softly.
As his warm tears rolled down his cheeks and dripped onto the blades of grass below, a gentle restlessness spread through the garden. The flowers, both big and small, felt his sorrow. A large marigold nearby leaned down toward him and whispered softly:
"Little friend! I have been watching you cry for a while now. What troubles your heart? Would you like to tell me?"
Hearing the tiny, gentle voice, the boy stopped crying. He felt an immediate sense of warmth and comfort in those words. In moments of deep grief, a few kind words can mean the world. Looking down, he saw the golden marigold leaning closer to him.
He gasped in wonder. "Is that you talking, dear marigold?"
"Yes, it is me," replied the marigold. "Tell me, why are your eyes filled with tears?"
Before the boy could answer, another vibrant voice chimed in. "I am listening too!" It was a bright red rose, full of life.
"We all want to know what makes you so sad, friend," several voices echoed in harmony.
"Oh... I thought I was all alone here," the boy murmured.
"You are never alone while we are here," rustled the jasmine, the roses, and the green grass standing proudly in their beds.
"What is your name, little one?" the grass asked, tickling his feet gently.
"I am Noor," he replied in a soft voice.
"Oh, what a lovely name!" the marigold swayed with joy. "Surely, you are the light of your parents' eyes—their true Noor."
"My parents..." The word pierced his heart like a sharp pain.
"What is it? Tell us a little about yourself," the marigold encouraged gently.
"I am Noor... and I live with my uncle now."
"With your uncle?" asked a tiny flower bud. "Why don't you live with your mother and father?"
"I don't have parents anymore. That is why I live in his house."
"Where did they go?" the tiny bud asked innocently.
"A year ago, both of them went to Almighty Allah in an accident," Noor said, his head hanging low. "Apart from my uncle, aunt, and their three children, I have no one left."
"Oh... forgive us. We did not mean to open your wound," the red rose said softly.
"It is alright," Noor wiped his eyes.
"But why were you crying just now?" the marigold asked.
"Eid is coming soon... and my uncle and aunt told me that they won't be getting new clothes for me this time."
"Why not?" asked a small plant nearby.
"They said business is bad. They said making new clothes just for their own children is already a struggle." Noor’s voice cracked with deep sadness.
"So they will buy clothes for their own children, but not for you? How is that fair?" the jasmine rustled in protest.
"I don't know..." Noor said with a heavy heart. "My parents always made sure I had beautiful new clothes for Eid. But now that they are gone to Allah... they can't make them for me anymore."
"They can't, but Allah certainly can, can't He?" the grass whispered playfully. "Why don't you ask Him? He will surely make clothes for you!"
Noor looked up, his eyes widening. "Ask Allah...? Will He really make clothes for me?"
"Of course He will! He is the One who takes care of everything," the marigold explained warmly. "And since He called your parents to His side, looking after you is His responsibility now, isn't it? Just ask Him. I am certain He won't turn you away. He never turns anyone away. Though... if someone doesn't even ask, what can He do?"
The tiny bud looked puzzled. "Uncle Marigold! How can Allah make clothes? Is He a tailor?"
"I do not know how He works," the marigold smiled softly. "All I know is that He provides for every living creature. Joy and sadness are in His hands, and He grants blessing to whomever He wishes. Just a week ago, an old grandfather sat right here with his two grandsons. He was telling them that everything comes from Almighty Allah and no one else. I listened very carefully and remembered every word."
Noor’s face brightened with a spark of hope. "I really need to talk to Allah! Should I ask Him right now?"
"Yes!" said the little rose. "Eid is approaching, and Allah will need to choose the cloth too. You should ask Him straight away!"
Noor raised his hands in prayer. He remembered how his mother and father used to lift their hands whenever they needed help from Almighty Allah.
He closed his eyes and began to speak:
"O Allah! Why did You call my parents to You so soon? Ever since they left, my cousins treat me poorly. They scold me over tiny things and never share their food. Uncle and Aunt moved into our house after Mom and Dad passed away. They took over everything. In front of guests, they call me 'son,' but I know in my heart they don't mean it... If they truly cared, why would they pull me out of my big school and send me to a small one? And now they say there will be no new clothes for me on Eid... This is not fair, O Allah."
He paused, taking a deep breath. Around him, the marigolds, the roses, the delicate jasmine, and the soft grass listened in absolute silence.
Noor lifted his hands a little higher, tears glistening like tiny pearls on his eyelashes.
"O Allah! You give so much to everyone... Please, just grant me two things. Please don't say no... I need these two things so very much. Whether You give them with a smile or with annoyance like my uncle... please just give them to me."
His voice grew trembling yet clear:
"Dear Allah... those two things are: new clothes and a lot of love. Ever since You called my parents, no one loves me. I am always sad. I cry all the time, and there is no one to wipe my tears or hold me close. You have everything in the world... please give these two things to me. You will give them to me, won't You?"
His eyes remained tightly shut, his small face drenched in tears.
Suddenly, a warm, gentle voice echoed from close by:
"Dear Noor... you will surely get your two things."
Noor opened his eyes in surprise and stared at the flowers. "Who said that? Was it Allah?"
The flowers stood still, equally astonished.
The gentle voice spoke again:
"Little Noor... you will get both things, and you will have them forever. Come to me, my child. Allah has sent me to you. He gave me these two blessings in abundance and told me to share them with you... Come."
Realizing the voice was coming from behind him, Noor quickly turned around.
Sitting on a bench a few steps away was an elderly man dressed in simple, clean clothes. His arms were spread wide open, and tears were trickling down into his long white beard. He had been sitting there listening for a very long time. He was a kind old man who ran a home for orphaned children.
"Go, my friend!" the marigold whispered happily. "Allah has heard your prayer. He listens to everyone who calls upon Him. Go... your help has arrived!"
In an instant, the sorrow in the garden melted away. The flowers swayed joyfully, and the air felt light and sweet once more.
Slowly, Noor stood up and began taking steps toward the old man’s open arms.
And far away... about forty feet from the park gates, standing on the rooftop of his house, Noor’s uncle stood watching the entire scene in silence.
