Once when she was a child, eyes filled with confusion,
Her mother said, “It’s all your fault. You led him on. Now stop crying!”
Once when she was a teen, eyes filled with death,
Her mother said, “Oh your friend didn’t matter – stop weeping and grow up.”
Once when she was a young woman, filled with child,
Her mother said, “You made your bed, now lie on it.”
Once when she was a bride, eyes filled with joy, happiness and love,
Her mother said, “Thank God. We’ve got rid of you at last.”
Once when she was a mother again, eyes filled with future hopes,
Her mother said, “She looks just like you, poor thing.”
Then one day, another came in, hugged her tightly and said,
“Why be so sad?
Jesus loves you, and sent me to you.
Come little one,
It’s all right to cry and mourn what you lost.
I am here, I am the mother you never had.”
I dedicate this poem to my Mom Aleta, without her in my life I would not be here today.