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About This Author
I am a 40 year old married mother of two teenage boys. I live for writing, especially romance. Love the happily ever after scenerio. The best thing about writing for me is the ability to lose yourself in your work, and feel as if you've accomplished something great. At the end of the day, that's all that really matters.
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INXS X #1071122 added June 30, 2024 at 12:15pm
Restrictions: None
Faith In Each Other
His once radiant brown eyes, which I cherished, now shimmered with unshed tears. His quivering bottom lip, a telltale sign, hinted at the impending storm. A single teardrop escaped, tracing a zig-zag path down his cheek before succumbing to gravity and falling to the floor. His face was a mask of pain and confusion, his body tense with the weight of his emotions.
In that moment, I craved to enfold him in my arms. I wanted to promise him everything would be alright and offer him the utmost comfort. This is my purpose, my calling as a mother. I was chosen to be his rock, to nurture this precious life, to educate him, and to witness his blossoming. He explores the world with those radiant brown eyes, usually ablaze with wonder and anticipation.
No mother wants to see their child in this state. I had to take a deep breath and calm the overwhelming sensations to pull him to me and wait to hear what had him so upset. Over the years, I have learned not to get ahead of myself, to let him take his time and get everything off his chest before I provide the comfort he needs.
"Zane, are you ready to tell me what's wrong?" I asked.
He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. That one lonely tear became a torrent as the floodgates opened wide. I knew what this was all about; anyone with a computer, television, or cellphone had seen it. The question rolling around in my mind was how do I address this? If it's what I suspected, this wouldn't be an easy conversation, and I would have to stay firm in my own beliefs yet let Zane decide which route to take on his own and not force what I firmly believed upon him. He was intelligent enough to draw his own conclusions, and my role was to guide him in becoming his own man with his own sense of right, wrong, purpose, and gratitude and not let hate fester and breed.
Once he calmed himself enough to speak, he stared at the floor, refusing to meet my eyes. That was fine with me if that's what it took for him to say what he needed.
"I got into a fight today."
"Okay."
"The things they said, the things they think, it's so messed up."
Zane kicked at the leg of the chair he sat in with the toe of his shoe and then wrapped his ankle around it as if it anchored him to something physical as he continued unloading his emotions.
"Why don't you close your eyes, take a deep breath, and start at the beginning," I suggested in the calmest mom voice I could muster.
After Zane did as instructed, he sighed heavily and crossed his arms. "Everyone was sharing videos of the bombing, of people trapped under the rubble, bleeding and dying, and then they were laughing and joking like it was a video game or something fun to do."
My heart clenched as I remained silent, taking a deep breath, pushing the images I had seen that morning to the back of my mind, and steady my focus on my son.
"It's an international school, mom. They constantly discuss tolerance and acceptance, but it's all a lie. They hate all Arabs and Muslims and trash talk us all the time."
"I know it feels that way," I began.
"No, Mom, it is that way."
I nodded. "Go on."
"Charlie says we are all terrorists, and they are getting what they deserve."
"And what do you think?" I asked in the calmest voice I could muster, though my heart was cracking.
"I think that's a load of crap."
I stared at him, wanting to scold Zane for the language, but he was right.
"The world is a strange place," I began. "Instead of embracing different cultures, races, religions, we seem to take offense to it and hold everyone accountable for the actions of a few."
"It's crazy."
"What is?"
"That one person makes a terrible decision, and then the world attacks a population," he said, resting his hands on his thighs.
"I agree."
"Do you know most of them kept saying that my dad says this, and my mother said this? They didn't have one argument that wasn't their own."
Pride swelled in that moment. I had a child with a strong sense of self.
"There had to be others who felt like you do."
He nodded. "A few."
"Then that is what you hold onto. You put your faith into them and give it all some time. It might not look like it now, but things are shifting. There is more understanding going on." I knew there were days this didn't feel true, but I had seen the shift, even though it crawled at a snail's pace.
"Hey, mom?"
"Yes, Zane?"
"If God created everyone in his image, why do people pretend they don't know that?"
"That's a good question. My only answer would be that they choose not to."
He pondered that for a moment.
"I'm going to choose to see the good in everyone, even the ones who called me names today."
I stood, went over to him, crouched, and pulled him into my arms. "That's a good plan."
"And I'll wish that one day Charlie will see I'm not a terrorist."
WC: 901
Faith In Each Other
All the people
In this world
All the people
In this world
Gotta tell you
It's alright
Look at the cover
Of a magazine
The pride of a nation
They're down on their knees
I got to tell you
Let the people speak
I got to tell you
Yeah you got to have faith
In each other
All you ever
All you ever have for each other
They give us a reason
To go on living
It's all in the choices
That you have to make
I got to tell you
You better make them good
I got to tell you
Yeah you got to have faith
In each other
All you ever
All you ever have for each other
All the people
In this world
All the people
In this whole wide world
I got to tell you
Let the people speak
I got to tell you
Yeah you got to have faith
In each other
All you ever
All you ever have for each other |
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