Mother and two children

 Friday, November 25th, 2022  Year 3

I love this picture

I love this picture, it speaks to me in so many Love languages, bearing messages too numerous to count.  I imagine myself sitting across from the trio, considering the urge to distract the older child that the mother might get just little bit more of a badly needed respite.  But then I think, "I am but a sojourner through these parts, and I do not know the local customs and perhaps  an old man, who is a total stranger, is seen more as threat than an unknown friend offering a helping hand".  So I resist the urge to intervene and merely observe and since the mother sleeps, quite frankly I can stare, taking in the details of a life stretched thin.

The mother's face is thin, perhaps a drug addict? Or the result of self-sacrifice that the children's are not? Or perhaps just accumulated fatigue of doing the duty meant for two?  

Her hair is cut short.  Perhaps driven by the necessity of additional minutes needed to stay on schedule in the morning routine?  

I imagine her barefoot, in a simple cotton sundress walking the path through the prairie grasses that winds it's way up from the creek back home.  Her two kids alternately racing ahead or falling behind when distracted by the fascinating discoveries the tall grasses hold.  Her mind hums a silent, happy tune of contentment and security, for her and the kids.  There is no want here, her cup is neither empty nor over-flowing but filled sufficient. Daily.

The two kid's hair styles are like hers, short and manageable, a concession to efficiency, deferring to tomorrow the dream of running a brush through long curly locks as she tells them their bed time story.

They're all dressed simple enough, cotton, wash n wear, no need of an iron, no lace or pleats to navigate a hot iron around, and certainly no dry cleaning bill to budget for.  The mother's dress - a bit on the short side, showing ample leg neither young nor varicose, but strong enough to bear the burdens she carries as well as if to say, "Hey I was young once, I can still dance and laugh and turn a head or two!"

The car rattles on through the night, the sound it makes bidding all three to sleep, the old child the last to fall, having an imaginary conversation with a mother who feels safe enough to grab a few minutes of extra shuteye.

As my station of departure nears I whisper a gentle blessing that plentitude and prosperity come their way and a hedge of safety keep the dark things at bay.

bobb

(photo is by Paul Kessel (USA) Q Train – A mother and her two daughters from the series “NYC Subways”)

addendum - 102422, I originally published this on FB, quite a number of folks saw it completely different than I did, most were much more upbeat.  This made me curious and I ran some other pictures past friends, the results were the same they were more positive, more sunny than mine.  I was totally unaware of this bias I have! bobb