Family Assistance through Counselling and Training - FACT

03/08/2026

Right Tools of Life”*

The kitchen tap was leaking again. With a sigh, I called a plumber.

A few minutes later, a middle-aged man walked in — calm, steady, carrying a faded toolkit.

I watched him at work. He pulled out a wrench - it was cracked at the handle.

“How will he fix anything with that?” I wondered silently.

He didn’t seem bothered. With a quiet focus, he began loosening the pipe. A rusted portion needed to be cut off. He reached into his bag again and pulled out a small saw - half of it was missing!

Now I was sure. I’ve called the wrong man for the job. But within ten minutes, the leak was gone. The tap was shining, and not a single drop escaped.

When I handed him a two hundred rupees, he shook his head. “No, Madam. Half of this is enough.”

I stared at him, surprised. “Who refuses extra money these days?”

He smiled - a calm, grounded smile.

“Madam, every job has a fixed worth. If I take more today, I’ll expect more tomorrow. When that doesn’t come, I’ll be unhappy. So I prefer to take only what’s fair. It keeps me content.”

I nodded slowly. “At least buy yourself a new wrench and saw. They’ll make your work easier.”

He chuckled softly. “Ah, Madam… tools are meant to wear out. That’s their destiny. But even when they’re chipped or cracked, they still do their job. Just like senior people - a few scars don’t make us useless.”

He paused, then added, “When you write in your office, does it matter which pen you use? Expensive or ordinary - if you know how to write, you’ll write well with anything. But if you don’t, even the costliest pen won’t help. The skill lies in the hands, not the tool.”

I stood there speechless. His words sank deep. The satisfaction on his weathered face was something rare - something money can’t buy.

A Thought to Treasure!

In our endless race for wealth and comfort, we often forget the true “tools” of life - honesty, hard work, gratitude and contentment.

When these are intact, even broken tools can create miracles.

But when they’re missing, no riches in the world can fix the leaks within us.

*Dedicated to All senior citizens.*

31/07/2026

Too good to miss sharing :-

THE OLD VESSELS

Our dining room had a beautiful showcase filled with lovely cutlery. Plates, bowls, cups, & serving dishes were neatly arranged behind the glass. They were special. We used them only when guests came home. Whenever someone admired them, we felt proud.

After I scored very good marks in my 10th standard, we invited a priest, who was also an elderly relative, for dinner. Deep inside, I was waiting for him to praise me. I wanted him to appreciate my hard work & tell everyone how proud he was of me.

Like every other guest, he first noticed the beautiful cutlery in our showcase. He admired every piece, & we happily told him where each one came from.
After dinner, he asked if he could see the rest of the house.

My mother proudly showed him every room. Everything was neat & beautiful. When they entered the kitchen, he paused for a moment. The shelves were clean, but the cooking vessels were old. They were not expensive or shiny. Some were blackened by years of cooking. They had lost their beauty, but they were still being used every single day.

After everyone sat down for dessert, he smiled.
"The cutlery is beautiful," he said. "But today I noticed something even more beautiful."
We all looked at him. He pointed towards the kitchen. "The old vessels."

Then he turned towards me. "Congratulations on your wonderful marks," he said gently. "You have worked hard, & you deserve every bit of appreciation." I smiled.

"But never forget this," he continued. "You did not reach here alone."

"Your parents quietly carried the heat of life so that you could grow without feeling it."
"They worked hard to give you a comfortable life. Your mother spent sleepless nights caring for you. Your father silently carried responsibilities, hiding his own worries behind a smile."

"When you failed, they stood beside you. When you lost confidence, they believed in you. When the world doubted you, they never stopped trusting you." Then he smiled again.

"Parents are like those old cooking vessels."
"They are never displayed in the showcase. No one admires them. Years of fire have taken away their shine."

"But they are the reason the beautiful plates are filled with delicious food."

"The cutlery receives the compliments, but the old vessels quietly take all the heat."

"In the same way, the world may applaud your success, but never forget the people who silently made that success possible."

To be honest, I was also a little disappointed. I had expected him to speak only about my achievement.

Years passed.
Many times, I remembered that conversation. Yet, like many children, I slowly began to feel that my parents had not done enough for me.
I thought they could have sent me to a better school. They could have given me more opportunities. They could have made different decisions. Without realizing it, my expectations became bigger than my gratitude.

Then life came full circle.

I became a mother.
Like every parent, I wanted only the best for my child. Every decision I made came from love. I sacrificed my comfort, my sleep, my time, and many of my own dreams because I believed it was the right thing to do.

But as my child grew, I discovered something that completely changed me. The things I thought were best were not always the things my child expected.
Sometimes, my sacrifices were not even noticed.
Sometimes, my love was misunderstood.
Sometimes I heard, directly or indirectly, "You could have done more."

That was the day the priest's words finally became real. I had become one of the old vessels.

I realized that this is the quiet journey of almost every parent.
They carry the heat.
They carry the worries.
They carry the sacrifices.
And then they quietly step aside while their children receive the applause.
Perhaps that is what true parenthood is.
To give everything without keeping count.
To love without expecting praise.
To find joy simply by watching your children shine.
Today, whenever I see an old cooking vessel in a kitchen, I no longer see an ordinary utensil.
I see my parents.
I see their sleepless nights.
I see the dreams they quietly gave up.
I see the burdens they carried without ever complaining.
And I pray that I never become so busy admiring the shining cutlery that I forget the old vessels that made everything possible.

Let us look beyond the trophies, the success, & the applause.
Let us look for the old vessels.
Because, one day, the cutlery will grow old too too ….

30/07/2026

08/07/2026

*Must read 👌🏻👌🏻*

*Anup Kumar Bedi’s Post*

Last week, on my flight from Delhi to Pune, I experienced a moment I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.

I had just settled into my window seat when a little boy, no older than seven, stopped beside me, holding his father’s hand.

“Uncle… if it’s okay, can I please sit by the window?”

Before I could answer, his father immediately said, “I’m so sorry, sir. Please don’t feel obliged. He’s been asking since we entered the airport. It’s completely alright if you’d like to keep your seat.”

I smiled.

“It’s yours, champ.”

His face lit up instantly.

He rushed to the window, pressed his little hands against the glass for a few moments, smiled… and then, just a few minutes after take-off, rested his head on his father’s shoulder and quietly fell asleep.

He slept through almost the entire flight.

About twenty minutes before landing, his father looked at me and smiled.

“I guess he didn’t make much use of your window seat.”

“That’s alright,” I replied. “He must have been exhausted.”

There was a brief silence.

“He is,” his father said softly.

“We’ve spent the last eight months in Delhi. He’s been undergoing treatment for severe aplastic anemia at Rajiv Gandhi Cancer Institute and Research Centre. There were days we didn’t know if we’d ever make this journey home. Today is the first day the doctors felt he was well enough to travel.”

I looked at the little boy again.

Only a few minutes earlier, I had seen a child asking for a window seat.

Now I saw a little warrior who had spent months fighting for something infinitely more precious than a view above the clouds.

His father then asked me,

“Do you know why he wanted the window seat so badly?”

I shook my head.

“He told me, ‘Papa, when we’re above the clouds, I’ll be a little closer to God… and I can say thank you for making me better.’”

I didn’t know what to say.

I simply looked away and quietly wiped a tear from my eyes.

As we walked towards the terminal, his father turned around, smiled and said,

“Thank you. You made his day.”

The truth is

He had made mine.

That flight reminded me that we meet people for only a few moments, while they may have been carrying burdens for months or even years.

The impatient customer.

The distracted colleague.

The exhausted parent.

The quiet child asking for a window seat.

We see behaviour.

We rarely see the battle behind it.

Perhaps empathy doesn’t begin with grand gestures.

Perhaps it begins with choosing compassion before judgment.

✅ Everyone you meet is carrying a story you cannot see.

✅ A small act of kindness can become someone else’s lifelong memory.

✅ Sometimes the most beautiful view isn’t from the window seat. It’s the perspective that changes your heart.

Last week, I gave away my window seat.

21/06/2026

_*To the Silent Provider*_–

A Father’s Day Tribute

Today, let us pause and honour the man
whose love is seldom spoken,
yet felt in every comfort we enjoy.

The father is often the quiet strength of a family—
not seeking applause,
not asking for recognition,
not expecting gratitude.

He rises before the world awakens
and rests only after his duties are done.
He carries burdens that few can see,
worries that few can understand,
and responsibilities that never take a holiday.

He swallows his pride when circumstances demand it,
sets aside his personal dreams when family needs come first,
and endures disappointments in silence
so that his loved ones may smile without concern.

His sacrifices are rarely announced.
His struggles are seldom shared.
His tears often remain unseen.

He becomes the bridge over troubled waters,
the shade during life’s scorching summers,
the steady hand when uncertainty surrounds the family.

Many times, his love is not expressed in words,
but in school fees paid on time,
in sleepless nights spent worrying,
in long journeys undertaken for work,
in countless compromises made quietly,
and in the unwavering promise:

_*As long as I stand, my family shall not fall*_

A father’s heart is a remarkable place—
strong enough to bear hardship,
humble enough to forgive,
and generous enough to keep giving
even when he has little left for himself.

Yet, because he asks for nothing,
his efforts often go unnoticed.
Because he complains so little,
his sacrifices are often forgotten.
Because he stands so strong,
people assume he never gets tired.

But today, let us remember.

Behind every secure home,
every educated child,
every family that stands together through storms,
there is often a father who quietly carried more than his share.

To all fathers—
the protectors, providers, guides, and silent warriors—
we offer our deepest respect and gratitude.

May we not wait for special occasions to appreciate them.
May we acknowledge their love while they are here to hear it.
And may we never forget that some of life’s greatest heroes
wear no cape, seek no fame, and ask for no reward.

Happy Father’s Day to every father whose love speaks not through words, but through a lifetime of sacrifice, devotion, and unwavering responsibility.
_*”The loudest love is not always spoken;sometimes it is lived, quietly, every single day*_