Sometimes the smallest memories of childhood leave the greatest impressions on our lives.
Today on Stories, Soul Work & Substack, I had the pleasure of welcoming Ahmad Shah Karimi, author of Hands at Work: Stitches of a Childhood from Afghanistan.
Ahmad joined me from Berlin, Germany, to share a remarkable journey that began in a small Afghan village and eventually led him far from the home and people he loved.
What struck me most wasn’t simply the hardship he experienced. It was the beauty he remembered.
Children shaping birds from clay. Friends climbing mountains to search for the Eid moon. The anticipation of new clothes. His mother’s cooking and the smell of halwa filling the house.
These weren’t extraordinary events. They were ordinary moments that became extraordinary memories.
We often hear about Afghanistan through war, politics, and conflict. Ahmad reminded us that behind those headlines are families, traditions, laughter, dreams, and people simply living their lives.
But his story also carries difficult choices.
Following the Taliban’s return to Kabul in August 2021, Ahmad was forced to flee Afghanistan because of his work with young people. He eventually reached Germany, leaving his family behind.
He spoke openly about the guilt he experienced after reaching safety, particularly when he learned that his young son had stayed awake wondering where his father had gone.
That moment stayed with me.
We talked about how difficult it can be to make peace with decisions made under extraordinary circumstances. Sometimes there are no perfect choices, only the choices available to us.
One of the most touching parts of our conversation was Ahmad’s description of his grandmother.
He remembered her kindness, her advice, and the way she welcomed him home. Although she is no longer physically present, her influence continues through the values he carries.
And that brought us to another important question:
What is home when the people and places we remember are no longer the same?
Perhaps home isn’t simply a building or a country. Sometimes it’s the love we received, the lessons we learned, and the memories we carry wherever life takes us.
Ahmad also reminded us that writing can become a refuge—a way to reconnect with people, places, and moments that distance cannot erase.
Thank you, Ahmad, for sharing your childhood, your courage, and your remarkable perspective on life.
Five Lessons I Took Away From Our Conversation
* The smallest moments often become our greatest memories. Childhood isn’t remembered only through major events, but through ordinary acts of love, laughter, and kindness.
* Hardship and happiness can exist together. Even during difficult times, children find ways to play, dream, and experience joy.
* Home is more than a place. It lives in the people who raised us, the traditions we remember, and the values we carry forward.
* Making peace with the past doesn’t mean forgetting it. We can look back at difficult decisions with understanding and compassion rather than judgment.
* Our stories preserve what time and distance cannot. Writing allows us to keep memories alive and share pieces of our lives with future generations.
Perhaps the greatest lesson from today’s conversation is that we may leave the places where our stories began, but we never completely leave behind the people who helped write those first chapters.
Our past may shape us, but it doesn’t have to define where our story goes next.
Thank you for reading. This work is reader-supported, and your presence here matters.
About the Author
The Positive Pen by John Rinaldo is a weekly publication centered on soul work, reflection, and the quiet process of becoming. Through honest writing and lived experience, he explores what it means to grow, endure, and find your voice.
He also hosts the live podcast The Positive Pen: Stories, Soul Work & Substack, where writers, authors, and artists share their journeys through meaningful, real conversations. The show airs every Monday at 4 PM EST.
Author’s Note: I have dyslexia and use assistive technologies, including AI-assisted editing, to improve grammar and readability. Every story reflects my lived experiences, voice, and final approval
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