Eid morning.
For so many of us, those two words bring a rush of happy memories. It’s the smell of seviyan or a special breakfast cooking. It’s the sound of the Takbirat playing. It’s the crisp, new feeling of your best Eid clothes, laid out and waiting for you.
For a child, this feeling is magic. It’s a day of pure, unfiltered joy. You wake up with excitement in your chest, knowing that after the Eid prayer, there will be family, there will be fun, and there will be “Eidi” and gifts.
It’s a day for every child to feel special.
But what if you’re a child who has no one to give you a new outfit? What if you have no parents to hand you a crisp new banknote?
For millions of children—orphans, refugees, and those in deep poverty—Eid morning can be the hardest day of the year. It’s a day they feel invisible. A day they feel forgotten. A day they feel like they just don’t matter.
This isn’t just an idea. This is the reality for so many. But it’s a reality that you can change for less than the price of a takeaway meal.
This is a story of one Eid gift. It’s the true story of 9-year-old Bilal and the £10 box that changed his world.
The Longest Morning
For Bilal, who lives in a small, clean orphanage partner home, Eid morning started the same as every other day. He woke up early for Fajr prayer, but the usual buzz of excitement that filled the whole town was missing for him.
He was safe. He was fed. But he was an orphan, and he felt it most on Eid.
From the window of the home, he could see the other children in his neighbourhood. He saw a boy his age, Ahmed, running in the street, showing off his new, shiny blue shalwar kameez and a pair of new white trainers. He saw Ahmed’s father pat him on the head and hand him some money.
Bilal looked down at his own clothes. They were clean, but they were the same ones he wore last week. They were not “Eid clothes.”
His heart felt a little heavy.
He knew he shouldn’t be jealous, but he couldn’t help it. He just wanted to feel new. He wanted to feel like it was a special day for him, too. He quietly went back inside, thinking he would just wait for the day to be over. He felt left out. He felt forgotten.
A Blue Box with His Name on It
Later that morning, a van pulled up outside the home. A few volunteers from a Children of Adam partner team came in, carrying large blue boxes.
The house mother called all the children into the main room. “We have a wonderful surprise for you all!” she announced, her face beaming. “Your brothers and sisters from the UK have sent you a gift for Eid!”
Bilal watched as the volunteers began to read out names.
“Fatima!” A little girl ran up and was given a box.
“Yusuf!” A small boy, barely 5, took his box with wide eyes.
And then he heard it.
“Bilal!”
He looked up, confused. “Me?”
The volunteer smiled. “Yes, you. This one is for you. Eid Mubarak!”
Bilal walked up and took the box. It was for him. It had his name on it. Someone, somewhere, had thought of him.
He sat in the corner and carefully opened the lid. He couldn’t believe what he saw.
Inside, neatly folded, was a brand-new, crisp, white shalwar kameez. It was beautiful. It smelled new. Underneath it, there was a small packet of colourful sweets and a small, bright red toy car.
Bilal just stared. He touched the new clothes. He picked up the car, turning it over in his hands. He had never had a toy that was this new, that was just for him.
This is A Story of One Eid Gift: The Feeling of “Mattering”
He didn’t wait. He ran to his room and put on the new clothes. They fit perfectly. He looked at his small reflection in the mirror.
He didn’t look like “Bilal the orphan.”
He looked like “Bilal, a boy in his new Eid clothes.”
He felt tall. He felt proud. He felt… new.
He went back out to the main room, and the house mother smiled at him. “Mash’Allah, Bilal! You look so handsome! Eid Mubarak!”
He beamed.
Later that day, we asked him what the gift meant to him. He was a quiet boy, and he thought for a long time. He looked down at his new toy car, and then he looked up, and said the words we will never forget.
“I just… I felt like I mattered. Someone thought of me.”
That was it. That was the magic. It wasn’t the toy. It wasn’t the clothes. It was the feeling. The feeling of being remembered. The feeling of being included. The feeling of mattering to someone.
For the rest of the day, Bilal didn’t sit in the window. He was outside, playing with his car. He was at the Eid prayer, standing tall in his new clothes. He was sharing his sweets with the other boys. He was part of the celebration.
Why This One Small Act is a Beautiful Sunnah
This. This feeling. This is what our faith is all about.
The Prophet Muhammad (peace be upon him) was the kindest to children and orphans. His entire life was an example of making the forgotten feel remembered.
When we give a gift on Eid, we are not just giving a toy. We are healing a small, sad heart. We are following the example of our Prophet (ﷺ). This is why giving Eid gifts to children is a beautiful Sunnah in action. It is an act of pure compassion, a way to spread the joy that Allah (SWT) has gifted us.
The Gift of Joy on Top of the Gift of Life
For a child like Bilal, this one Eid gift is the joyful “extra” on top of the foundation that donors already provide.
This child is part of our orphan sponsorship program, and your gift made his celebration complete.
What does that mean? It means his daily life—his food, his safe home, his school uniform, and his healthcare—is already paid for by a kind sponsor. His life is taken care of.
But the £10 Eid gift? That takes care of his heart.
It’s the difference between just surviving and actively celebrating. It’s the difference between feeling like a charity case and feeling like a beloved child of the Ummah. Both parts are essential.
Your £10 is the Feeling of “Mattering”
This is a story of one Eid gift. It’s the story of how £10 travels thousands of miles, becomes a white shalwar kameez and a small red car, and gives a 9-year-old boy back his Eid.
It gives him the feeling that he matters.
This Eid, you can do that. You can send that same message. You can give that same feeling. You are not just putting a toy in a box. You are telling a child, “You are loved. You are remembered. We are one family. Happy Eid.”
This is the feeling your £10 creates. Make a child smile this Eid.
