Building Towers, Growing Hearts

Nael was busy building a tall tower in the living room. Block by block, he stacked them high—red, blue, yellow—his eyes shining with focus.

Just then, his little sister Noor, barely one year old, crawled over. She sat nearby and stared at the colorful blocks with big, curious eyes. Her chubby hands reached out and patted the floor near Nael’s tower.

Nael frowned. “Noor, no! You’ll break it,” he said, moving his blocks closer to himself.

Noor tilted her head, then gave a wide, toothy grin. She picked up a soft block and gently banged it on the floor, watching Nael.

Nael sighed. He didn’t want his tower ruined—but he noticed Noor wasn’t trying to knock it down. She just wanted to be near him. She waved the soft block again, like a little flag.

Nael looked at his tower, then at Noor.

He picked up a few extra blocks and slid them over to her.

“Here, you can build too,” he whispered.

Noor squealed in delight and slapped the blocks happily. She didn’t stack them, but she clapped her hands and smiled every time Nael added a new piece to his tower.

Nael smiled too. It felt good.

Later, when the tower wobbled and finally fell, Noor clapped and giggled. And Nael laughed with her.

From then on, Nael always saved a few blocks for Noor. Because he learned something important that day: Sharing his toys made his heart feel bigger than any tower he could build.