My Dream
Everyone dreams. Some dream of wealth, or of true devoted friends, of a cell-phone, of a car, and some dream of a family.
What do I dream of? I cherish a dream of a home scent, of mommy's hands baking pies, of her tender smile and love. I remember my parents. They were very kind people who loved my brother and me. But, perhaps, not every adult is able to overcome all of their troubles. So maybe my mom and dad were broken by the hardships of life. I remember my mom crying because dad couldn't get a job. And then they took to drinking. I also recall fear, fear of being taken away from our mother. And so it happened!
More fears and cold came next. Cold of her being away from us. My reminiscences of the first days in an orphanage were painful. Painful because of the hope for our mom to come and take us home. We used to stand endlessly in front of the window waiting for her. At times, I was so ashamed to confess that I was waiting only for her. It is hard to express the pain and insult of the kids' mocking and teachers' requests to forget the past and think of my future. But how can there be a future without a past?
Doesn't everyone dream of a miracle? Indeed, in the beginning, many of us waited for their real mother, but then, I suppose, for just a mother. It may be bad but I so much wanted me and my brother to never lose her. Her, whom we would love. Ten years passed, but a miracle still did not come. Maybe it was time to forget the hopes still alive in my soul. The yearning for hearing mom's voice, for feeling her touch. I don't know what she would be like. But I would recognize her hands and smile. They were very special. They belonged to our mommy.
By: Anonymous Kidsave program participant |
