For children, - Islam and Greed: New Store Opening(Greedy Story, Human Desires, Selfishness and Islam)

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A store that sells husbands has just opened in Nairobi, where a woman may go to choose a husband. Among the instructions at the entrance is a description of how the store operates. You may visit the store ONLY ONCE!
There are six floors and the attributes of the men increase as the shopper ascends the flights. There is, however, a catch . You may choose any man from a particular floor, or you may choose to go up a floor, but you cannot go back down except to exit the building! So, a woman goes to the Husband Store to find a husband...
On the first floor the sign on the door reads: Floor 1 - These men have jobs and love the Lord.
The second floor sign reads: Floor 2 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, and love kids.
The third floor sign reads: Floor 3 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, and are extremely good looking.
"Wow," she thinks, but feels compelled to keep going.
She goes to the fourth floor and sign reads: Floor 4 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, are drop-dead good looking and help with the housework.
"Oh mercy me" she exclaims, "I can hardly stand it!" Still, she goes to the fifth floor and sign reads: Floor 5 - These men have jobs, love the Lord, love kids, are drop-dead gorgeous, help with the housework, and have a strong romantic streak.
She is so tempted to stay, but she goes to the sixth floor and the sign reads: Floor 6 - You are visitor 4,363,012 to this floor. There are no men on this floor. This floor exists solely as proof that women are impossible to please.
Thank you for shopping at the Husband Store. Watch your step as you exit the building, and have a nice day!

PUBLISHER Najimudeen M

Story, - Who does he like?

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There was this boy named Jordan who came to my school to shadow in fifth grade. Right away I liked him and hoped he came to my school. He did.
Jordan was a bit childlike but I liked him for that. He was witty and funny with a big mouth.
Once in sixth grade (my school is tiny, 300 kids) when I was at science, Morrison asked my brother (at least this is what he told me),
“Who does Katherine like?” My brother, (god why didn’t you just shut up) began ticking down the list of all the boys until he got to Jordan. Morrison immediately said,
“Aha! Katherine likes Jordan!” When I got back from science, my friend Nick (whom I told about my other crush) asked me if I liked Jordan. I mumbled some cuss words and said,
“Kinda.” And that was that. Jordan heard everything, and he knew I liked him. It was a bit hard to talk to him after that, but I managed.
As we got to seventh grade, a new girl named Melody came to my school. She was on the pretty side and blond. Now, I’ve been trying to get over Jordan, but that doesn’t seem to be happening. Also, my BFF has a crush on him. Only four people (including my brother…long story) knows I like him. So Melody asked Jordan out, and I was glad to hear that he said no.
Jordan is…unpredictable. He has a very big mouth and he talks a lot (most of the stuff he says is bs) and it is impossible to tell who he likes. None of the “secret signs” applies to him. He’s on a totally different scale, needing a totally different guide to read.
But now I’m worried…he’s cute, yes, and he has a lot of admirers. Who does he like?

PUBLISHER Najimudeen M

Story, - I'm Just a Dreamer

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I didn’t believe it. People said I was too young. They said our age was too far apart. I never knew…
I met my crush for the first time when he came over to my house. He was 16, I was 10 (DONT mention age here). He was the sweetest guy I’d ever met. He was everything: funny, witty, smart, playful. Everyday, I’d sit and imagine what it would be like to spend one whole day with him. Together. Alone.
Years passed, I turned 12, he turned 18. The last time he came over we had a little conversation. He kept on asking me about school dances and that I should sneak out to go to one. He said that maybe he’d go with a friend of his, a Persian girl with a heavy accent.
I was such a dreamer. I kept a journal of the boys I liked, mostly filled with pages of him. The time at his house he showed me his art. The card he made for Mission Art Walk Day. I even saved a picture of him on my computer (well…two). I convinced myself that he liked me. I guess I was wrong.
One day, I came home from basketball practice. It was dark, and so hard to see without my glasses. I had a habit of looking at his house, which was on my block, at the attic window, to see if it was on. I saw the front door was opened, and he and another girl with her hair pulled back into a ponytail. He was laughing, probably at something she said, and I was staring, my heart breaking. It wasn’t his fault, he didn’t know I was there. Yet. Time slowed, as it seemed, and he looked up. Shock, confusion, and something else flashed across his face, and then I was gone, away down the block in my dad’s car. The end of that moment.
He’s off to college now, and I’ll hardly get to see him. He’ll never like me, but somewhere inside me, something keeps hoping he will. I just keep on dreaming.

PUBLISHER Najimudeen M