This is a demonstration only. Your page will use your own words, her name, and the duas you pick.

This page is for Amal

Mercy, patience, and prayer.

Begin the journey

A life, scroll by scroll

What follows is not a timeline on paper—it is the same warmth you once leaned on, drawn in ten stills. Scroll slowly; some sentences may ache, and that ache is gratitude finding words.

Life 1 / 10 The morning she learned your name by heart

Illustration: mother in hijab cradling a sleeping newborn in a sunlit nursery with crib and window

The morning she learned your name by heart

Sunlight finds the nursery before she finds rest. She holds you like an answer to a prayer she never stopped making—soft swaddle, softer breath, a whole world narrowing to your weight in her arms.

Illustration: mother at night in a rocking chair with newborn, warm lamp light and crescent moon in the window

When the house is only you and the lamp

The moon outside does not clock out, and neither does she. In the gold circle of a small lamp she rocks and rocks—tired eyes, steady arms, a love that does not ask to be noticed, only to be enough.

Illustration: toddler taking first steps toward a kneeling mother in a sunlit room

The distance between wobble and embrace

You lift one uncertain foot, then another. She kneels with arms wide, smiling like the whole universe fits in that crossing. When you fall, she is already the floor you trust.

Illustration: mother and young child reading a picture book together in a cozy room

She was your first library

Pages turn in her lap before you know what letters are. She points to animals and laughs with you—your first teacher, your first audience, the voice that made language feel like home.

Illustration: mother waving at a child with a backpack walking toward a school gate

The gate where love learns to let go

Yellow backpack, brave glance back, a smaller silhouette walking toward a bigger world. She waves like it is easy. Her heart walks beside you until the bell rings you home.

Illustration: teenager studying late at a desk while mother watches from the doorway with a warm drink

The hour when numbers blur and she appears

Stars press against the window; notebooks fill with lines that refuse to make sense. She stands in the doorway with steam rising from a cup—proof that even silence can be a rescue.

Illustration: elderly mother hugging a son in graduation gown with diploma, graduation banner behind

Every sleepless chapter in one embrace

The gown, the cap, the word GRADUATION like a banner over everything she sacrificed in plain sight. She weeps and laughs in the same breath—you, her proof, her answered dua in human form. Today belongs to how far you have come.

Illustration: adult son at a laptop while his mother brings a plate of food into the room

When the screen glows and the worry will not leave

Inboxes fill, deadlines stack, and your shoulders learn a new weight. She appears with the kind of meal that does not need an excuse—proof that success was never meant to taste lonely. She does not fix the work; she steadies the person doing it.

Illustration: mother adjusting her son’s collar on his wedding day

The morning she straightens your collar like a blessing

Buttons, cufflinks, nerves tucked under clean cloth. She fusses where no one else would notice, because love has always been detail work. If your voice shakes, hers steadies—you step forward, and she is still the home you leave from and return to.

Illustration: elderly woman in prayer with Qur’an on a rehal and a thought bubble showing a family portrait

What remains when the house grows quiet

Her hands remember tasbih and open Qur’an; her eyes close, and a cloud of faces gathers—everyone she carried, everyone she forgave. The years that made her silver are the same years that made you strong enough to walk beside her when the path narrows. Stay near. Ask Allah for her before she asks for herself.

What She Leaves Inside Us

She did not read us speeches or hand us heavy rules. She taught us in whispers and patience, in the dua that followed us into sleep, and in a heart that tightened for our pain before we could name it. We honor her with gentle words, with forgiveness that comes before pride wins, and with a quiet plea to Allah: have mercy on her as she had mercy on us, and bless her for every gentle day she gave us.

📖 Du'as from the Holy Quran

These are among the most powerful supplications: the exact words taught to us by Allah through His Prophets.

1. The Du'a of Prophet Ibrahim (AS)

Arabic

رَبَّنَا اغْفِرْ لِي وَلِوَالِدَيَّ وَلِلْمُؤْمِنِينَ يَوْمَ يَقُومُ الْحِسَابُ

Transliteration

Rabbana-ghfir li wa li-walidayya wa lil-mu'mineena yawma yaqoomul-hisaab.

Translation

“Our Lord, forgive me and my parents and the believers the Day the account is established.”

(Surah Ibrahim, 14:41)

2. The Du'a of Prophet Nuh (AS)

Arabic

رَّبِّ اغْفِرْ لِي وَلِوَالِدَيَّ وَلِمَن دَخَلَ بَيْتِيَ مُؤْمِنًا وَلِلْمُؤْمِنِينَ وَالْمُؤْمِنَاتِ

Transliteration

Rabbigh-fir lee wa liwalidayya wa liman dakhala baytiya mu'minan wa lil-mu'mineena wal-mu'minaat.

Translation

“My Lord, forgive me and my parents and whoever enters my house a believer and the believing men and believing women.”

(Surah Nuh, 71:28)

3. The command to pray for parents (Quran)

Arabic

رَّبِّ ارْحَمْهُمَا كَمَا رَبَّيَانِي صَغِيرًا

Transliteration

Rabbi-rhamhuma kama rabbayanee sagheera.

Translation

“My Lord, have mercy upon them as they brought me up [when I was] small.”

(Surah Al-Isra, 17:24)

Duas for parents

Tap each dua below to count how many times you recited it.

Dua for us and our parents

Allahumma ighfir lee wa liwalidayya

Mercy as they raised us (Quran 17:24)

Rabbi irhamhuma kama rabbayanī sagheera

Forgiveness for parents and believers (Quran 14:41)

Rabbana ighfir lee wa liwalidayya wa lil-mu'mineena yawma yaqoomul hisaab

🤲 Beautiful general supplications (Ad'iyah)

While the Quranic verses are excellent in Salah, you can make these general supplications at any time—in Arabic or in your own words asking Allah with sincerity.

For forgiveness and mercy

اللَّهُمَّ اغْفِرْ لِي وَلِوَالِدَيَّ وَارْحَمْهُمَا كَمَا رَبَّيَانِي صَغِيرًا

Allahumma-ghfir li wa li-walidayya warhamhuma kama rabbayanee sagheera.

“O Allah, forgive me and my parents, and have mercy upon them as they raised me when I was small.”

اللَّهُمَّ اعْفُ عَنَّا وَاغْفِرْ لَنَا وَلِوَالِدَيْنَا

“O Allah, pardon us and forgive us and our parents.”

For health and long life (if they are alive)

اللَّهُمَّ أَلْبِسْنَا وَأَلْبِسْ وَالِدَيْنَا ثَوْبَ الصَّحَّةِ وَالْعَافِيَةِ

“O Allah, clothe us and our parents with the garment of health and well-being.”

اللَّهُمَّ احْفَظْنِي وَاحْفَظْ وَالِدَيَّ وَأَطِلْ فِي أَعْمَارِهِمَا عَلَىٰ طَاعَتِكَ

“O Allah, protect me and my parents, and prolong their lives in obedience to You.”

For Paradise and protection from the Fire

اللَّهُمَّ حَرِّمْ وُجُوهَنَا وَوُجُوهَ وَالِدَيْنَا عَلَى النَّارِ

“O Allah, forbid the Fire from touching our faces and the faces of our parents.”

اللَّهُمَّ ارْزُقْنَا وَوَالِدَيْنَا الْفِرْدَوْسَ الْأَعْلَىٰ مِنَ الْجَنَّةِ بِغَيْرِ حِسَابٍ وَلَا سَابِقَةِ عَذَابٍ

“O Allah, grant us and our parents the highest Paradise (Al-Firdaws) without reckoning or prior punishment.”

For their pleasure and righteousness

اللَّهُمَّ ارْزُقْنَا بِرَّهُمَا وَرِضَاهُمَا، وَنَعُوذُ بِكَ مِنْ عُقُوقِهِمَا

“O Allah, grant us the ability to be dutiful to them and earn their pleasure, and we seek refuge in You from disobeying or hurting them.”

اللَّهُمَّ اجْعَلْنَا قُرَّةَ عَيْنٍ لِوَالِدَيْنَا، وَاجْعَلْهُمَا قُرَّةَ عَيْنٍ لَنَا

“O Allah, make us the coolness of our parents' eyes, and make them the coolness of our eyes.”

Etiquette for making these du'as

Include them in your sujood during Salah—one is especially near to Allah in prostration.
Recite them between the Adhan and Iqamah.
Make these prayers especially on Friday in the last hour before Maghrib, and in the last third of the night (Tahajjud).