The Homeless Mother of Two Click to order via Xlibris, Amazon ISBN: 1413433014 |
Foreword
This book is a collection of short stories drawn from human experiences. Like a mother's unconditional love, these themes can provide a shared view of some aspects of the human condition, what I call Human Perspectives. From eternity's womb a woman nurtured us throughout pregnancy and childhood. Though not everyone was nurtured by a mother, society and the universe can be seen as one. Another mother, Hope, gently walks us through ambitions, joys, and trying episodes of our lives. The Greek Diogenes called hope 'the dream of a walking man'. When we die, eternity takes us back in her timeless womb. I invite the reader to walk with me for a few moments to live these experiences.
The homeless mother
I called her Mary, the brave mother of two. Each week I met her downtown, wandering with her two beautiful boys, aged five and three approximately.
She moved quietly in the heart of downtown, her two sons on a shopping cart or sometimes walking beside her like two baby tigers. Yes, they were very cute and well-behaved little ones. Mary took good care of the baby boys; I never witnessed them crying for anything or wander off.
Mary did not ask for money but her sight touched you and you gave from your heart. I still remember her. She was a very proud mother. I never understood how she ended in this situation.
One day, I approached her with my donation; it was a modest one. Mary looked me in the eye, hesitated, and finally took the money. She thanked me and quietly continued her daily journey in the heart of the big city.
Mary was the silent hero in my heart. I'll never forget that. Every time I met her, it gave me the strength to go on in life. I was hurting too, and she was my hero. Many times, I prayed for her and children. I always asked myself where the father was, or if there was any father at all. Sure, there was one, but what happened? Not the place to ask these questions, because we will never know for sure what happened to this family. We should never judge one another a priori.
Mary never lost her pride. She always looked serene and in charge. I struggled for one year thinking of how to approach her and offer more help so she could start over again in life. But whenever I came face to face with her, the person in front of me showed independence and commanded respect. It is one of these experiences that make you humble for sure.
I resorted to praying for her and sharing whatever donation I could draw from my student stipend.
Was Mary just making it to a big city from a small town? She may have been tired of living in a small rural town. It is not uncommon.
Mary may have recently divorced or forced herself out of a bad marriage at any cost, including being homeless with two little boys. Is there ever a bigger price to pay for freedom?
Mary may have fallen in the cracks of society, relying on government welfare, but trying to be independent at the same time. Then I thought of the two kids! She could never afford to leave the beautiful boys to go to work. Who would take care of them? Besides, she would need money to pay for childcare. But wait a minute, the state is there to help single mothers like Mary regain their independence. Why is Mary not taking advantage of the social services out there?
Worse, maybe Mary was really afraid to lose the only people she seemed to have in her life: her beautiful boys. She held on jealously to her children.
I moved to another city and I never saw Mary again. However, the image of her courage and the tenderness of a good mother are always with me. The kids must have grown up now to be men. Mary has probably turned her life around; I have always prayed for that.
Mary was homeless. I don't know what happened to her,
but she was the mother. Homeless or housed, rich or poor, single mother or
divorced, drug addicted or clean, disciplinarian or not, irresponsible or not,
abandoned me or was always there for me . . . a mother is always a mother.