Adventure
All Ezines
Best of Stories By Email
Crime Drama
Fantasy
General Interest
Horror
Inspirational
International
Magical
Military
Mystery
Poetry
Romance
Science Fiction
Self-Help
Thriller
Travel
Western
Young Adult
Bumps In The Night
Discount
Long Distance
|
 |
|
A Mother's Battle Cry
by Cynthia G. McCaffrey
|
|
|
As I walk through the streets of my hometown, I see a child standing alone waiting to cross. Too young to be doing it by himself, but he will try. Sometimes they don't make it. The funerals are always so sad.
I take a moment to talk to a young hooker waiting on the corner for her next john to show up. I see a face once innocent and fresh. Now it shows the hard lines of street life. Too many drugs too many men.
I see the drug dealer. He's making another score. From the back door of the dingy hotel on the corner. I know he really doesn't care if he's noticed. His scouts will tell him of any law that may be around. They don't get busted too often.
He was a child once long ago, I'm sure. Did his Grandmother once hold him on her lap and tell him she loved him. As I do with my Grandbabies.
But when I look into his eyes there is no emotion left in them. A cruel world has erased all happy memories.
In desperation I look up to see the pigeons settling softly on the rooftops. Their droppings are running down over a windowsill. A ratty curtain hangs in the window. I wonder if the ones that live there are happy? Or is their world a haze of not making ends meet. Finally giving up. Settling for a cheap place to stay, getting drunk or stoned and trying to forget. No one will bother them. They know the slumlords don't care.
I continue on my way, bravely smiling and greeting those who know me. The troubles on my mind never showing.
I see something that makes me smile softly to myself. I stop in my tracks and watch. A young Mom reaches down to a baby riding along in its stroller. (A tune begins to play softly in my head.) The young Mom pause's her hand for a second, gently cupping the child's face. The child looks to her with trust and love echoing in his eyes. And the tune plays even louder for me.
My breath is stilled trying to hang on to that moment. I wonder does she ever hear the tune? Does it play inside her head also? I don't think it has a real name. I call it 'The Mothers Battle Cry'
They sing it to their young. As they tuck them into bed. They hum it tunelessly as they go about their chores. It has never been written; it has never been read.
Cry out with me Mothers. Sound it loud. Make it clear. For the time is coming. The danger is near.
It is now that the tune needs to be written. It is now that it needs to be read.
Cry out with me Mothers. Tell the world that you're here. Sing it softly to your children. Let them sleep without fear.
Cry out with me Mothers. Know the streets, the drugs, and the crime. Hold fast and steady against the hardened hearts. The ones that come with time.
Cry out with me Mothers. Warn of false love and the such. It will pose as their friend. It waits for what it needs. Then it's gone again. Arm and arm with some con.
Cry out with me Mothers! Tell them all they can wait. They can't have our children. Of this make no mistake.
Cry out with me Mothers. Give loud your battle cry. The children need to hear you. Show your intent and it will not die.
Cry out with me Mothers. Take some time in your day. Teach your child the wonders of imagination and play.
Cry out with me Mothers take a stand and be firm. Take the hand of your little ones. There are lessons to be learned.
Cry out with me Mothers. See your role in their lives. Teach of honesty, loyalty and kindness. All things to hold dear and grow wise.
Cry out with me Mothers. Watch proud as they grow. Too soon they'll be gone. Help them take their lessons with them. Help them be strong.
Cry out with me Mothers. Will they take what you've taught? Did you capture their ears? Did they hear you praying softly trying to chase away all your fears?
Cry out with me Mothers! Let it ring out loud. Raise your voice to the four winds. Stand up and be proud.
Cry out with me Mothers. Turn away the dark clouds. Show them the real world. Keep dangers at bay. Teach with a soft hand, gently words have much to say.
Cry out with me Mothers. Don't give up hope. We have a long road to go down. We have been given a heavy load.
Cry out with me Mothers. For only then will they see. We cry out together in the hopes they'll be free.
As I walk the streets of my hometown, I hold my ground firm. For I believe in tomorrow. But we have so very much to learn today.
©2002 StoriesByEmail.com
|
|
|
|
Connecticut
|
|
|
