The Father, the Mother, and the Alphabet

The Father, the Mother, and the Alphabet

I recently received an image carrying a symbolic message suggesting that the word “father” is the origin of the word “alphabet,” as though it seeks to place the father at the absolute center of the family. Perhaps the creator intended it as a lighthearted remark or an exaggerated way of highlighting the father’s importance. The difficulty arises when such expressions are taken as statements of superiority, reducing the entire family structure to a single person.

The truth is that religions—especially the heavenly faiths—have never built the family upon competition between father and mother, but rather upon harmony and complementarity.

The father is a gateway to Paradise. He is owed obedience, respect, and dutifulness, and he bears responsibility for the care, protection, and well-being of the family.

At the same time, the religious texts speak of the mother’s status in a way that invites reflection. When the Prophet Muhammad ﷺ was asked, “Who is most deserving of my good companionship?” he replied, “Your mother.” Then again, “Your mother.” Then again, “Your mother.” Only then did he say, “Your father.”

This was never intended to diminish the father’s right, but rather to acknowledge the immense burdens carried by the mother: pregnancy, childbirth, nursing, sleepless nights, nurturing, and a devotion that rarely ends.

The poet beautifully expressed this when he said:

A mother is a school; if you prepare her well,
You prepare a nation of noble character and heritage.

When we reflect on the beginnings of language in a child, linguists have observed that sounds such as “ma,” “mama,” “ba,” and “baba” are among the earliest sounds an infant can produce. They rely on simple movements of the lips and are among the easiest sounds for a baby to articulate.

For this reason, words for “mother” often bear a remarkable resemblance across many languages—not necessarily because those languages borrowed from one another, but because the human speech apparatus develops in similar ways, and children naturally repeat the sounds that are easiest for them to make.

On a more emotional level, this observation carries a beautiful meaning. A child does not first encounter the world through concepts and ideas, but through presence, affection, and care. Thus, a child’s earliest sounds are often associated with the person who spends the most time providing that care—most often, the mother.

It is therefore not uncommon that one of a child’s earliest utterances resembles the word “mama,” as though human nature itself connects the first sounds, the first embrace, and the first mercy a person ever knows.

This is not a linguistic argument in the strict scientific sense, but it is a gentle human observation—one that feels closer to the heart than the claim that “father” is the origin of the “alphabet.”

Yet the most important point remains this: we should not turn language into a contest between father and mother. The worth of either parent is far greater than any linguistic coincidence or resemblance.

Father and mother are not the origin of words; they are the origin of memories. Through them begins the making of a human being.

The relationship between father and mother is not a field of comparison, but a partnership in building and a harmony in giving. Wherever a righteous father and a righteous mother come together, generations are raised who understand not only letters, but also the meanings behind them.

Perhaps it is better than claiming that “the father is the origin of the alphabet” to say:

The father is the support of life, and the mother is its spirit. Together they give meaning to the letters, and through them the human being is formed.

For it is not letters that shape a person, but the hearts that raised them. And the first heart most of us ever knew was a mother’s.

With best regards, Translated by the Smart Program