Be happy

What if ang angel come to meet you?

The sky was painted with soft colors—light blue with touches of pink and gold. A rainbow stretched above me, as if the sky itself was smiling. I stood still, holding my old diary close to my chest. It wasn’t just a book with pages. It was my friend, the only one who knew all my thoughts.

I had been feeling low for days. Everything felt heavy—my heart, my mind, even the air around me. I didn’t know who to talk to, so I did what I always did. I opened my diary and began to write.

“My tears are rolling down my cheeks,” I scribbled slowly. “Then I smile, even while crying.”

I stopped writing for a moment. I could feel my chest getting tight. The pain inside was strong, but the tears helped a little. I hugged the diary tightly and whispered, “Thank You, Allah, for this gift.”

Just then, a soft wind touched my face. It was light and comforting, almost like someone had placed their hand gently on my cheek. I closed my eyes and breathed it in. For a second, it felt like the wind carried a message.

When I opened my eyes, I saw someone standing in front of me.

She looked about my age. Her eyes were warm, and her smile felt safe. She sat down next to me without saying a word. At first, I thought I was dreaming.

Then she looked at me and said, “Don’t worry. I know you’re hurting, but you’re not alone.”

I blinked, surprised. “How do you know?” I asked quietly.

She smiled. “Because I’ve been there too. It feels like no one understands. You try to stay strong, but deep down you feel tired.”

I nodded. She was right.

“But listen,” she continued, “just because you cry doesn’t mean you’re weak. It means you’re human. And even if people don’t see your pain, Allah sees it. He always does.”

Her voice was soft, but her words were powerful. I felt something shift inside me—like a light turning on in a dark room.

“Allah knows what’s in your heart,” she said. “Even if you say nothing, He hears everything. He knows when you’re scared, when you’re confused, and when you feel like giving up.”

Tears filled my eyes again, but this time they were different. They weren’t heavy. They were warm and full of hope.

“You’re strong,” she added. “You’re doing better than you think.”

“Who are you?” I asked. My voice shook a little.

She just smiled again and stood up. “It doesn’t matter. Just remember what I said.”

Before I could say anything more, the wind blew again. I blinked—and she was gone. There was no sign of her. Only the soft breeze and the sound of the leaves moving.

I looked down at my diary. I picked up my pen and wrote:

> “I closed my eyes and felt the wind. It was like someone was there. Then a sound came, soft but clear:

> ‘Allah is with you.’”

I smiled, still wiping my tears. For the first time in days, my heart felt light.

I didn’t know who that girl was, or if she was real. But I knew one thing for sure—Allah had sent me a message, right when I needed it the most.

And I would never forget it.

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