No Option B: Raising Children Close to Nature

I grew up on a farm in Fujairah, with a private beach at the end of it. For me, nature was never a luxury — it was simply my normal. The sound of the waves, the rustle of palm leaves, the sight of birds overhead... these were part of the rhythm of life. I learnt early that the Earth is a companion, a teacher, and a refuge.

That conviction found its first outlet in school, when I was appalled to notice no one was writing about the environment in our school newsletter. My very first article carried the striking title:
 
“Save Planet Earth… Or else!”
 

It was bold, maybe even a little dramatic, but it captured exactly how I felt: that the Earth could not speak for itself, and we had a responsibility to give it a voice.

By the time I entered high school, I rallied my classmates and launched Cloud No. 7, a wall magazine dedicated to environmental and social issues. To my surprise, it lived on long after I graduated. That was my first glimpse of what legacy means: when you plant a story, it can echo for generations.

Most people at school knew me as friendly, but those who littered got to see another side of me. I would stop them in their tracks and say: “The bin is over there — not behind you.” It helped that I wore the badge of prefect proudly by junior and senior year. 

Today, as both a communications professional and a mother, I’m intentional about nurturing the same culture of care within our family. We:

  • Name our “nature friends”: the myna bird that hops closer, the towering plumeria tree crowned with blossoms, Valentine’s roses lovingly placed in a vase. When you name something in nature, it becomes familiar, beautiful and important — a friend to know, respect, and care for. 

What we model becomes our children’s normal. What we cherish becomes their inheritance. It's why lavender fields, especially when we travel, never fail to captivate us. Its tiny, fragrant blossoms are my favourite, and now my children share that joy — in their eyes, it has become precious too. 

  • Plant quick-growing greenery every winter, teaching my kids patience, respect, and responsibility.

  • Read living books: beautifully illustrated stories and poems with soul, such as Miss Rumphius, Alfie Outdoorsand A Nature Poem for Every Day of the YearFlora and Fauna of the UAE is always close at hand when we don’t know the name of a new nature friend.

  • Practice daily habits: carrying reusables, wrapping gifts in kraft paper, starting meals with gratitude, recycling creatively, donating, and reusing before buying new.
For me, sustainability is not about perfection. It’s about planting seeds of care in everyday life. It is a legacy that begins in the culture we create, the delight we express, and the choices we pass on to the generations that follow.

As a child, I believed caring for the Earth wasn’t optional — because we have no Option B.

As a grown-up and a mother, that conviction has only deepened: Nature isn’t a luxury for our children; it’s their birthright.

🌿 To fellow parents — may you also discover your own ways of weaving care for the Earth into your homes. Every act, however small, is a seed of legacy planted for the generations to come.

And perhaps, as you pause with your children today, you might reflect on questions like these:

  • What small habit could you plant today?

  • What legacy are others inheriting from your example?

  • How can you turn the ordinary into an act of care?

  • Which nature friends are already around you — and what would change if you named them?

Because the truth is simple: The seeds we sow now — in our children, our families, and our communities — will bloom into the culture future generations inherit.

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