Talking with a Mother – Short Story


Homeless MotherWhile they seat in their big houses, I’m wondering how to tell my children that we must move out of our tiny flat, and that I don’t know where we’re going to…

–    ‘Must we leave our friends? Must we change our school?’

They ask, and I feel like running away, but they have only me, so I have to stay.

I go to the powers that be and ask them for help. They don’t look in my eyes. They glance… Their head holds a PC inside, rather than a mind, never mind a human heart. They hand me a number to ring. And I do, so I can be lied to… I sense that their words might be far from the truth, so I start my own search online. The computer, seemingly a little more humane, tells me part of what’s to know. “You are on the waiting list – number 334. So, I go back to the ‘people’, and ask:

–      “Does this mean that you’ll help us move house?”

–     “No.” They say. “Don’t leave there – stay. When you’re on the streets – come back. Then, we’ll have a chat. There are many like you. You are not the only one.” Fine! I leave. “Next one, please!” I hear them yell. I feel like I’ll lose my mind if I stay. From now on, I’ll send letters or I’ll e-mail them.

I will work, at the same time, as hard as I can. Though, to rent a new small flat this job won’t provide. What else will I do? I will cry, sometimes. Not too much. I don’t want to drown… in tears. Then, I’ll work again just to pay the bills. I feel really tired – I’ve been lacking sleep… I can’t let them kill me though! I’m going to live! Yet, I bottle these fears and the pain. There’s a bottle of wine in my hand.

– “Why?” The interviewer asks.

– “Why wine? I’m cutting my chocolate down.”

– “No. Why bottle the pain? Why not talk to someone?” He smiles.

– “Oh…” She sighs.

Those who are comfortable want to stay comfortable. They say that they pray for me and my family while they seat in their big houses comfortably. Meanwhile, I wonder how to tell my children that we have to move, again… And, I cannot tell them where we’re going to… I don’t know… God knows. Oh… {She pauses} That’s right. He does. ‘Oh, thank you for listening’, she adds.

The interviewer smiles.

 “I will put this wine away. I’m going to pray.”

She gets up and goes… Where to? Well… God knows.

Happy Mother's Day

Dedicated to all mothers - especially those forced to persevere 
a lot more than others. You are amazing! Happy Mother's Day!♥

Monika Ribeiro (writer/poet)Leave a comment

Mother’s Secrets – Poem


'Mother's Secrets' by Adam PodleckiToday, people in the UK celebrate the strength of a mother. We appreciate how sacrificial, powerful, and instrumental she is in our lives…

Yet, this poem approaches motherhood from a slightly different angle. This is a piece about her strength, but it is about her humanity as well. 

It culminates in the revelation of the Source of that strength which we love to celebrate & admire.

Happy Mother’s Day!

MOTHER’S SECRETS

***

Many times, mama must say ‘no’ to her child

Although “yes” is pressing to escape her mind

Yet, at times mama must say ‘yes’ even though

She would feel less pain if she could say ‘no’…

 

Yes, at times, mama must reveal her anger

For true peace to begin and for chaos to cease

Yet, most times, mama needs to remain silent,

So she can be heard and so she can hear…

 

Many times, mama has to wait for her child,

Even though that child is already late… Then,

Sometimes mama needs to push rather hard,

So late consequences don’t have final say…

 

There are times mama needs to die for her child,

So the fruit of her love can survive and thrive. Yet,

Sometimes mama needs to first save her own life,

So she’s there, full of strength to keep baby alive…

 

Sometimes,

Being a mother seems more difficult than…

It seems sometimes…

 

A true mother must be brave and selfless

Must be assertive, yet kind at the same time

She must be strong, beautiful, loving…

Responsible, present and caring…, but I…

 

Sometimes, I was selfish and not very sane –

None of which is surely a good mother’s way…

Sometimes, it seems  like I don’t have what it takes

Which I don’t anyway – surely not in myself

 

But then, He comes with His Motherliness…

Surrounding me, overwhelming with help

And I keep pressing on, and again, I excel…

Although yet again, sometimes seem to fail

 

Truly, a mother cannot be a good mother,

Without much of Him within much of her

 

I… don’t qualify for your idol, baby…

Yet…, allow me…

I’ll show you where your faith should rest

 

I do not want you to be my clone, little girl

In Him…, In Him… you must be yourself…

In Him, in His time, In His way, little boy

 Walking better, and further I could ever walk.

Monika Ribeiro (writer/poet)Leave a comment