Gibran Khalil Gibran, a name that cannot be ignored or forgotten in Arabic literature. I can clearly remember having to analyze and read his poems during my Arabic language classes in high-school, which almost always featured his emotion as an expat in the United States of America. His longing for his homeland Lebanon was very visible in his work, which is something I found interesting and managed to relate to once I moved away from home. His adoration for his roots taught me to appreciate family and home.



I pledge allegiance to this talented, brilliant and thoughtful author, for teaching me so many life lessons merely by stating them in words.

It may be too soon for me to speak about this topic, but I will never forget the first time I read the following statement made by Gibran:

Your children are not your children.
They are the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself.
They come through you but not from you,
And though they are with you, yet they belong not to you.

You may give them your love but not your thoughts.
For they have their own thoughts.
You may house their bodies but not their souls,
For their souls dwell in the house of tomorrow,
which you cannot visit, not even in your dreams.

You may strive to be like them, but seek not to make them like you.
For life goes not backward nor tarries with yesterday.

 Ever since I laid eyes on it, I wanted to base the upbringing of my future children on the ideas stated by Gibran, as he portrayed them in the most clear, beautiful way possible. I have always valued the freedom my parents gave me when choosing my path  in life, however there was always a slight degree of expectations which I felt terrible not to meet.

Gibran also taught me to always speak my mind as clearly as I possibly can, to not lose precious love I have towards certain individuals.

“Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love is lost.”