Kurdistani Nwe

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Kurdistani Nwe A political daily newspaper published by media office patriotic union of kurdistan

An old trucker sat quietly in a diner, eating his meal when three bikers walked in. One burned his pie with a cigarette....
09/09/2025

An old trucker sat quietly in a diner, eating his meal when three bikers walked in. One burned his pie with a cigarette. Another spat in his milk. The third flipped his plate onto the floor.
The diner froze, waiting for the old man to explode. But he didn’t. He calmly left money on the table, stood up, and walked out without a word.
The bikers laughed. “Not much of a man, was he?” one said.
The waitress looked at them and replied: “Not much of a truck driver either. He just backed his rig over three motorcycles.”

I Took Care Of My Mom Until Her Last Breath — And My Brother Took The House And Left Me With NothingI bathed my mother, ...
09/09/2025

I Took Care Of My Mom Until Her Last Breath — And My Brother Took The House And Left Me With Nothing
I bathed my mother, fed her meals, kept vigil through sleepless nights, and squeezed her hand when pain was unbearable.
And my brother, Artyom? He showed up when it suited him. Short visits. A bouquet here and there. “If something happens, let me know.”
And then, suddenly, she was gone.
I hadn’t even begun to grieve when Artyom summoned me to a “family meeting.” Only it wasn’t a meeting—it was a declaration.
“The house belongs to me now,” he said coldly, sliding documents across the table. “Mom left it in my name.”
I blinked.
“What?”
He exhaled as if explaining to a child.
“She rewrote the will last year. She probably thought I’d handle it better.”
Handle it better?
I had lived here daily. Cleaned it. Kept her alive.
“You were barely around,” I whispered, trembling.
He shrugged.
“Well… It was her decision.”
It felt like the floor gave way beneath me. I had no savings—my life had been caring for Mom. And now, with a few strokes of ink, my own brother was casting me out.
A week later, I stood on the porch, suitcase at my feet, watching him change the locks.
Then I noticed it—a loose brick near the steps.
Mom hid things there. Not big, but meaningful.
Artyom flashed one final smirk and shut the door.
And I… I smiled too.
Because I sensed he had overlooked something.
Something very important. Full story in 1st comment 👇

Every spring in Regina, a local high school hosts a tradition unlike any other—a dance that pairs teenagers with senior ...
09/09/2025

Every spring in Regina, a local high school hosts a tradition unlike any other—a dance that pairs teenagers with senior citizens from the community.
Students send invitations, arrange transportation, and even cook the meal themselves. For many of the seniors, it’s one of the few chances in the year to dress up, laugh, and feel celebrated.
When the music starts, the generations meet on the dance floor—some shuffling with canes, others twirling with teenage partners, all of them smiling.
For the students, it’s a lesson in kindness and respect. For the seniors, it’s proof that joy doesn’t fade with age.

Every once in a while, a child reminds us what love really means.My 7-year-old daughter loved her long hair. It was her ...
09/09/2025

Every once in a while, a child reminds us what love really means.
My 7-year-old daughter loved her long hair. It was her pride. But today, she sat in a salon chair, scared but determined, and said: “I’m ready. This is going to make another kid happy.”
Snip by snip, her hair fell away—donated to make wigs for children who lost theirs. But she didn’t stop there. For weeks she’d drawn pictures, baked cookies, and asked friends to help. This morning, she handed me a wrinkled envelope with over $600 inside—money she raised all on her own.
She was nervous her classmates might tease her short haircut. I told her: “Maybe. But you’re braver than any words they can say.”
To her, it was “just hair.” But I know it was courage, empathy, and the biggest heart I’ve ever seen.
👉 Full story in the comments.

Some moments aren’t written in history books—they’re written in the quiet gestures of love.When James Whetton was born p...
09/09/2025

Some moments aren’t written in history books—they’re written in the quiet gestures of love.
When James Whetton was born prematurely, his future looked uncertain. Fragile and barely six pounds, he lay in a hospital cot surrounded by wires. Then, one visitor changed everything.
Princess Diana walked in. She asked James’s name, admired his hair, and then gently lifted him from his cot. She held him carefully in her arms—the only baby she picked up that day.
“She truly cared,” James recalls from the stories passed down by his family. “She wasn’t there for a picture. She was there to give hope.”
For his mother, it was a moment of comfort. For James, it became part of his survival story. “Maybe she passed on a little bit of her love and got me through it—who knows?”
Now a grown man, James still treasures the photograph his grandfather took of that embrace. He calls it “the golden arms of Diana.”
👉 Full story in the comments.

Today my son Joseph called from college. His voice was calm but filled with concern: “Mom, my friend and his mother are ...
09/09/2025

Today my son Joseph called from college. His voice was calm but filled with concern: “Mom, my friend and his mother are sick, can you drop off some food for them?”
For a moment, I just stood there—stunned. This was the same boy who once needed a wiggle cushion just to sit still in class, the boy who lost every pencil we ever bought, who once ran away in fourth grade only to come back an hour later. The same teenager we weren’t sure would even graduate.
And yet, here he was, thinking not of himself, but of someone else. That’s when I realized—raising children is like growing wildflowers. Some bloom quickly, others take time. Some grow neatly toward the sun, others twist and turn before finding their light. But with patience, each will bloom in their own way.
Joseph’s bloom came later, but it came with kindness, empathy, and responsibility. The wild child I once worried over is now a young man reaching toward the warmth of others, offering help without hesitation.
So if you’re in the middle of the messy years with your own child, hold on. The wildflower will bloom—maybe not when you expect, maybe not how you imagined—but when it does, it will be worth every struggle.
👉 Full story in the comments.

NEVER FORGOTTEN — September 11, 2001 💔🕊🇺🇸In a single moment, the sky over New York turned into fire. A jet tore into the...
09/09/2025

NEVER FORGOTTEN — September 11, 2001 💔🕊🇺🇸
In a single moment, the sky over New York turned into fire. A jet tore into the Twin Towers, unleashing an explosion that sent smoke, glass, and flames pouring through the city. The world stopped as lives were lost, heroes rushed in, and history changed forever.
We remember the courage.
We remember the heartbreak.
We remember every life taken too soon.
Rest in peace to the souls we lost. May their memory always live on.
Share your memory of where you were that day in the comments — let’s make sure they’re never forgotten.
👉 Full story in the comments.

What could possibly go wrong when your naptime buddies are rescued bears? For Jim Kowalczik, it’s not danger—it’s trust....
09/09/2025

What could possibly go wrong when your naptime buddies are rescued bears? For Jim Kowalczik, it’s not danger—it’s trust.
Jim founded a bear orphanage, where he cares for orphaned and injured bears, feeding them, brushing their fur, and giving them the safety they never had. But the most extraordinary sight is when he lies down among them, drifting into a nap surrounded by the very animals he saved.
Despite their size and power, the bears relax beside him, even cuddling close. Once vulnerable and abandoned, they now find comfort in the bond Jim has built through patience and compassion.
His story isn’t just about caring for wildlife—it’s about emotional healing, second chances, and the surprising friendships that form when love replaces fear.
👉 Full story in the comments.

When my mom passed away, I had to move in with my dad—the man she always called a “hopeless loser.” I never expected muc...
09/09/2025

When my mom passed away, I had to move in with my dad—the man she always called a “hopeless loser.” I never expected much from him, and truthfully, I believed she was right.
Prom came and went in my mind. I was in a wheelchair, had no date, and surgery that might’ve changed my life was far too expensive. I didn’t plan to go—it just felt like another thing I’d miss out on.
Then one evening, my dad shocked me. He said he would take me to prom. I doubted him, but the sincerity in his eyes made me pause. And that night, he showed up. He made it unforgettable—laughing, dancing, lifting me up in ways I didn’t think possible. For the first time, I saw him not as a failure, but as a father who truly cared.
The next day, a package arrived: a $10,000 check with a card that read “Dad of the Year.” My dad looked at me with tears in his eyes and whispered, “I think I know who sent this.”
That moment changed everything. My dad wasn’t perfect, but he showed me the power of love and what it means to step up when it matters most.
👉 Full story in the comments.

She didn’t write a goodbye—she wrote a gift.Just one day before she passed away at 27, Holly Butcher shared a letter tha...
09/09/2025

She didn’t write a goodbye—she wrote a gift.
Just one day before she passed away at 27, Holly Butcher shared a letter that would touch millions. Facing the end of her life from a rare cancer, she chose not to dwell on loss, but to leave behind lessons on how to truly live.
Holly reminded us that tomorrow is never promised. She urged us to stop hating our bodies, to spend money on experiences instead of things, to put down our phones and be present with the people we love. She challenged us to forgive quickly, hug longer, and say “I love you” while we still can.
Most of all, she asked us to give—to donate blood, the gift that gave her one more year of laughter, memories, and love.
Holly didn’t get the full story she dreamed of, but her words live on as her legacy—a call to stop sleepwalking through life, to embrace joy, and to love without hesitation.
👉 Read her unforgettable letter in the comments.

On a routine flight, something extraordinary happened. A little boy named Shauntay sat quietly beside his mother, shy an...
09/09/2025

On a routine flight, something extraordinary happened. A little boy named Shauntay sat quietly beside his mother, shy and holding tight to her hand. A few rows away, a little girl named Kendell noticed him. Without hesitation, she reached out and gently took his hand in hers.
Two children, total strangers, instantly connected—not by words, but by kindness. A fellow passenger captured the moment, and the image soon spread online. It wasn’t just a photo of two kids—it was a glimpse of the world as it could be: colorfree, yet so colorful.
By the time the plane landed, they walked off still holding hands, proving that compassion and friendship need no explanation.
👉 Full story in the comments.

Past midnight on a lonely highway, a woman’s car broke down. With no money for a tow and no one around, she thought she ...
08/09/2025

Past midnight on a lonely highway, a woman’s car broke down. With no money for a tow and no one around, she thought she was out of options—until three teenage boys appeared.
Still in their swimsuits from a late-night swim, Aeron, Bailey, and Billy checked under the hood, realized the car couldn’t be fixed, and made a decision: they would push it.
For over four miles, through the darkness and silence of the night, they pushed her Chevy Cobalt while she steered. Another driver even trailed behind with hazard lights on, keeping them safe. Three hours later, exhausted but smiling, they finally got her home.
Asked if they’d do it again, the boys didn’t hesitate: “We were raised to help no matter what.”
👉 Full story in the comments.

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دەربارەی کوردستانی نوێ

رۆژی 12/1/1992 ژماره‌ سفری رۆژنامه‌ی كوردستانی نوێ چاپ‌و بڵاوكراوه‌یه‌وه‌و بووه‌ یه‌كه‌م رۆژنامه‌ی رۆژانه‌ی دوای راپه‌ڕینه‌كه‌ی خه‌ڵكی كوردستان له‌ئاداری 1991 كه‌ تائێستاش به‌رده‌وامه‌ له‌ده‌رچوون، كه‌ بۆئه‌وێ رۆژێ ده‌ركردنی رۆژنامه‌‌ به‌واتای رۆژنامه‌ی هه‌واڵ و به‌دواداچوونی رۆژنامه‌گه‌ریی، كارێكی ئاسان نه‌بوو.

ئه‌گه‌رچی یه‌كێتیی نیشتمانیی كوردستان له‌مێژووی سیاسی و پێشمه‌رگایه‌تی و رۆشنبیریی و رۆژنامه‌گه‌ریی خۆیدا خاوه‌نی سه‌دان نه‌به‌ردی و به‌رهه‌می داهێنه‌رانه‌و كاری ده‌ستپێشخه‌رییانه‌و داهێنانه‌، به‌ڵام بۆ ده‌ركردنی رۆژنامه‌یه‌كی رۆژانه‌ دوای پرس و رایه‌كی زۆرو وه‌ده‌ستخستنی وه‌ڵامی ده‌یان پرسیار، ئینجا بڕیاریدا كه‌ گه‌ڵاڵه‌نامه‌كانی سه‌ر كاغه‌ز بۆ كاری پراكتیكی بگوازێته‌وه‌.

هه‌ر له‌گه‌ڵ رۆژه‌گه‌رم و به‌جۆشه‌كانی راپه‌ڕینی 1991دا ئه‌و بیرۆكه‌یه‌ خرایه‌ سه‌ر كاغه‌ز تابه‌شێوه‌یه‌كی عه‌مه‌لی ئیشی بۆ بكرێت، بۆ ئه‌مه‌ش به‌گوێره‌ی رێنمایی و دوای بروسكه‌یه‌كی هه‌ڤاڵ مام جه‌لال بڕیاری جێبه‌جێكردنی درا، له‌هه‌ولێرو سلێمانی ده‌ست به‌كۆبوونه‌وه‌ كرا. له‌هه‌ولێر دوو دانیشتنی فراوان كرا، یه‌كێكیان به‌سه‌رپه‌رشتی كاك كۆسره‌ت ره‌سوڵ عه‌لی و كۆبوونه‌وه‌ی دووه‌میش به‌سه‌رپه‌رشتی كاك ئه‌رسه‌لان بایز، له‌هه‌ردوو كۆبوونه‌وه‌كه‌دا كۆمه‌ڵێك ئه‌دیب و نووسه‌رو شاره‌زای بواری هونه‌ری ئاماده‌یبوون. له‌شاری سلێمانیش بۆ هه‌مان مه‌به‌ست چه‌ند دیدارێك رێكخرا.

دوای ئه‌وه‌ی ستافێك بۆ رۆژنامه‌كه‌ دیاریكرا، رۆژی 12/1/1992 ژماره‌ سفری رۆژنامه‌ی كوردستانی نوێ‌ خرایه‌ ژێرچاپ و بڵاوكرایه‌وه‌ كه‌ لێی نووسرابوو (كوردستانی نوێ، یه‌كێتیی نیشتمانیی كوردستان ده‌ریده‌كات) و شاری هه‌ولێر بووه‌ بنكه‌ی سه‌ره‌كی رۆژنامه‌كه‌و چاپخانه‌ی رۆشنبیری ده‌سنیشانكرا بۆ چاپكردنی رۆژنامه‌كه‌.