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Quote on Sacrifice for better tomorrow by APJ Abdul Kalam

Quote on Sacrifice for better tomorrow by APJ Abdul Kalam

Quote on Sacrifice for better tomorrow by APJ Abdul Kalam

Let us sacrifice our today so that our children can have a better tomorrow.

APJ Abdul Kalam

Title: “Legacy of Sacrifice”


“Let us sacrifice our today so that our children can have a better tomorrow.” These words echoed through the quiet village of Willowbrook, where generations labored under the sun’s watchful gaze. Meet Elias, a weathered farmer with calloused hands and a heart burdened by dreams for his children.

The Sunflower Fields

Dawn’s Promise

Elias rose before the rooster crowed, tilling the sunflower fields. His back bent, sweat mingling with the fertile soil. Each seed he planted held a whispered prayer—a promise of abundance for his sons and daughters. “Tomorrow,” he murmured, *“will be their harvest.”

The Evening Ritual

As the sun dipped low, Elias gathered his children—Maria, Tomas, and little Sofia. They sat on the porch, watching the horizon blush with twilight hues. “Our toil,” Elias said, “is a bridge to their dreams.” Maria nodded, her eyes reflecting the sunflowers’ golden faces.

The Village School

The Cracked Blackboard

Maria taught at the village school—a single room with cracked walls and eager minds. She wiped chalk dust from her skirt, her heart echoing her father’s words. “Today’s lessons,” she told her students, “are seeds for their tomorrows.”

The Whispered Hopes

Tomas, the blacksmith’s apprentice, forged horseshoes and dreams. “One day,” he confided to Sofia, *“our children won’t mend tools; they’ll build bridges.” Sofia, wide-eyed, imagined those bridges spanning rivers and connecting hearts.

The Candlelit Nights

The Family Table

In the glow of candlelight, Elias recounted tales of ancestors—their struggles, their sacrifices. “We plant,” he said, “so they can reap.” Maria listened, her fingers tracing the family tree etched on the wooden table. “Our roots,” she whispered, “anchor their futures.”

The Lullaby

Sofia clung to her ragged doll, lulled by her mother’s voice. Maria sang of resilience, of stars guiding lost ships. “Our children,” she crooned, “will navigate uncharted seas.”

The Epilogue

The Harvest Moon

Years passed. Maria became the village headmistress, Tomas a renowned architect. Sofia, now a poet, penned verses about sunflowers and bridges. Elias, his hair silver, stood in the sunflower fields, watching the harvest moon rise.

“Our sacrifice,” he whispered, “was their foundation.”

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Written by pragya singh

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