Parents who migrate to a new country often face unique challenges. They come seeking better opportunities for themselves and their children, navigating unfamiliar societies while trying to preserve values from the world they left behind. Their intentions are noble, but the reality of survival often consumes their attention.
Faith begins at home
Children follow examples, but even the best example does not guarantee outcomes; it only fulfils responsibility. If I tell my children to pray five times a day but fail to embody that practice myself, the lesson loses its impact. If I recite the Holy Quran without striving to understand it, yet expect them to engage meaningfully, frustration will arise and they will sense hypocrisy.
This principle extends beyond formal worship into the rhythms of everyday life. Being regular in Friday prayers, listening attentively to the Friday sermon of Huzoor (aa) and then carrying one or two points from that sermon into a simple dinner table conversation teaches children that faith is not confined to the mosque. It lives in our homes, our discussions and our choices.
Hazrat Mirza Ghulam Ahmad (as) explained that parents should provide a framework of guidance while trusting Allah to nurture the inherent goodness within their children. He stated: “The seed of goodness that is present in each of them, according to their nature, will flourish when the time comes.” (Malfuzat [English], Vol. 2, p. 182)
Leading by example today also requires confronting an uncomfortable reality: every generation faces its own distractions. In ours, it is often the phone, but the deeper issue is the divided presence. A parent whose eyes are fixed on a screen at the dinner table, during conversations or moments before bedtime, signals absence, even while physically present. Children experience this as disengagement.
When a parent is absorbed in a screen, the child is left without the attentive presence through which confidence, self-worth and emotional security are formed. Over time, this absence can lead to frustration and distance, not because children are defiant, but because they feel unseen. Yet even when parents strive, outcomes ultimately rest with Allah, and every child walks a path shaped by many forces beyond our control.
I write this as someone who’s still a work in progress. Humility does not mean lowering standards; it means holding ourselves to them first. I have had to reflect on my own habits. By speaking openly with my children, they have become respectful reminders for me to put my phone away during meals, conversations and before bedtime. I now make a conscious effort to keep my phone out of the bedroom altogether.
Rather than undermining parental authority, these moments have strengthened our bond. They signal to me that my children still want to share their lives with me, and that trust, once lost, is far harder to rebuild than to protect. They also learn something invaluable: their voice matters in their parents’ home. This becomes a training ground for the world, teaching confidence, communication and awareness of social cues.
It is difficult to tell children to disconnect when we ourselves remain constantly connected, scrolling through forwarded videos, unverified clips or endless social media content. How can I ask them to step away from screens if I am unwilling to do the same?
Rather than relying on force or punishment, we are called to lead by example, spiritually, emotionally and practically. Our presence, restraint and consistency become living lessons. Children notice far more than we think, and even small daily acts of integrity leave lasting impressions.
Building bonds through shared struggle
Strong relationships are forged through shared effort and consistent engagement. In my home, we practise this intentionally. I participate in my eldest son’s love for reading and chess, while he joins me in physical activities. Choosing a challenging activity together, whether mental, physical or spiritual, builds discipline and connection.
Hazrat Musleh-e-Maud (ra) often described how his parents guided him through consistent spiritual instruction while trusting him to learn, struggle and mature. Their relationship was shaped by regular engagement, praying together and moral discipline, forming a shared journey.
As a child, Hazrat Musleh-e-Maud (ra) was frail and often unwell, with weak eyesight that made prolonged reading difficult. Recognising this, Hazrat Hakeem Noor-ud-Deen (ra) adopted a compassionate method of instruction: he would seat him beside himself and say, “I will read and you keep listening.” In this way, what could have been a limitation became the very means through which his spiritual and intellectual foundations were strengthened. (Swaneh Fazl-e-Umar, Vol. 1, pp. 104-105)
In worldly terms, the example of Andrew Carnegie comes to mind, who grew up in a modest immigrant family after relocating from Scotland to the United States. His parents and siblings worked closely together, navigating hardship, labour and adaptation as a unit. That shared struggle instilled discipline, resilience and vision, values that later shaped his achievements and philanthropic outlook. (The Autobiography of Andrew Carnegie and the Gospel of Wealth, 1920, Chapter 1-2)
As the Holy Prophet (sa) taught: “[…] the most beloved deed to Allah is that which is regular and constant, even if it be little.” (Sahih al-Bukhari, Kitab ar-riqaq, Hadith 6464)
Just as we are commanded to establish five daily prayers to build a relationship with our living Allah, consistent presence and shared effort are essential in nurturing a relationship with our children.
Prayer
The Holy Prophet (sa) said: “There are three supplications that will undoubtedly be answered: the supplication of one who has been wronged, the supplication of the traveller and the supplication of a father for his child.” (Sunan Ibn Majah, Hadith 3862)
Prayer, paired with self-reform, aligns intention with action. The Promised Messiah (as) emphasised that parents must strive to reform themselves first, so that their prayers and conduct reinforce one another. (Malfuzat [English], Vol. 2, p. 182)
The evolving role of a father
A father’s role evolves as a child grows. What begins as physical safety gradually becomes emotional security, moral guidance and spiritual companionship. At every stage, children are learning, not from what we say, but from what we do and how we show up.
In the earliest years, a father’s presence becomes a child’s first experience of safety. Before words are understood, presence is felt. Calm consistency dissolves fear and builds trust. As awareness grows, children closely observe how challenges are handled and how people are treated. Integrity is learned from habits, compassion from tone and confidence from seeing a parent recover honestly after mistakes.
As identity forms, children need space to be heard. Fathers who listen without rushing to correct create an environment where children feel safe being themselves and comfortable with differences. They need an environment free from sarcasm or belittling remarks that quietly wound growing hearts.
When boundaries are tested, disagreement is not failure; it is training. Children are learning how to assert themselves respectfully. Distance and constant criticism often push them toward validation without guidance. As independence approaches, children still measure themselves against their parents, even if silently. Growing with them rather than pushing them away helps keep their hearts connected to Allah as they navigate adulthood.
A child does not need a flawless father, only one who reflects, strives and continues to grow.