This story is for you mothers everywhere!

„She traveled every day the same route to her work. During the first two weeks, she noticed a few times a woman that was taking the same route as hers: taking the bus at the same stop and going out at the same station.

She noticed that woman because somehow, she does not really know how, what, and why, but reminded her of her own mother, the mother who had been, for so many years, thousands of miles away from her. 

The woman was small, smaller than she was, over fifty years old and possibly reaching her sixties, had very kind face, the hair cut in a short style and having a reddish tone, and a body shape similar to that of her mother. She noticed that the woman walked with a limp, she sure had some health problems and pain when walking. She realized she was having difficulties to walk while getting out of the bus.

She could not explain herself while she started noticing that woman, and maybe she will never be able. Maybe it was because she noticed that every day, she was wearing the same clothes and never smiled. After the first two weeks, she got a new schedule. The chances of meeting that women again were extremely low, almost nonexistent.

But guess what, she was there doing the same route and starting work at the same time and finishing at the same time. One day, she walks into the bus, walking with a limp, and sat down. The women looked at her and smiled, she smiled back. You could see how tired she was. She took a seat and started looking out the window.

What was her story? She imagined that maybe she was a mother and she was a grandmother, having reached an age where it was not so easy to find work and, to support her family, she had to work at whatever it was that come along. Perhaps she also had a husband, but his salary was not enough to support all the members, so she also had to outside and work.

She looked tired, exhausted, she looked sad, she looked as she was in pain, physically and mentally. However, she did not seem like someone who easily gives up. With her lame walk, early in the morning until late at night evening, she went to work, every day to support her family.

She reminded her of her own mother and the other mothers who sacrificed their life and are willing to give their lives, every day and at all time, metaphorically and literally for their children.

She reminded her of her own mother, who woke up every morning at 5:00 a.m. and came home at 17:00 p.m., for twenty-five years to have a plate of food on the table for her children. She would come home and continue with her second job, as a mother, and cook food and prepare everything necessary for the children. She never complained of being tired.

She reminded her of other mothers who raised their children the best they could and continued to raise their grandchildren until they were teenagers. That was an endless work and hardly had time for themselves. They would find energy in every smile they received, and they would never complain of being tired.

She reminded her of other mothers that they had multiple jobs and only a few hours to sleep so they would have enough money to keep their children in school, so they have a chance of a better future than the one they had. They would never complain that they could no longer.

She reminded her of other mothers who were physically and emotionally abused but did not dare to say anything to keep a roof over their children’s heads. They thought it is best not to speak and not to tell anyone, but children have a sixth sense of noticing when something is wrong and when love is not there anymore. They would never complain they could no longer.

She reminded of mothers who needed to leave their children behind and go to a foreign country to earn more money. Almost the entire amount was sent back to their children, so they could study and be able to build a better future for themselves. They would never complain they could no longer.

She reminded her of mothers that were fathers and mothers at the same time. They would try to provide everything for their children, financially and emotionally. They would never complain of being tired.

She reminded of mothers who gave up their future to raise their children. They would never complain that their life was no longer their life, their life meant only their children.

All these women are martyrs, all these women are heroes, all these women have superpowers coming from a hidden place known only by a mother’s soul. All these women never get tired, all of these women never complain, all these women offer the best of themselves without expecting nothing in return, and the little they do expect is free and this thing is called love.

Let’s do not forget about the fathers, but this will be another story!”

I am here right now, in the same corner of town, in the same crowded coffee where people come, drink their coffee and leave. In the same cafe where families pass by with their children, in the same cafe where grandparents bring their grandchildren.

The only thing that has more value than money is the love and respect you have for yourself, first of all, and then for the others. Both are for free, but sometimes we do not value them at their true worth.

Love the people who deserve to be loved, appreciate the people who deserve to be appreciated, respect the people who deserve to be respected, and most importantly show them this.

Show them that you love them, show them that you missed them because tomorrow might be too late. When you lose something, that is when you value what you had the most. I am scared when that moment comes, like any of us, I think.

What is your story?

Version in Spanish: https://journeywithmada.com/historia-nr-23

Version in Romanian: https://journeywithmada.com/povestea-nr-23/