Have you ever looked so closely at a child’s face that you could see God? Victoria Chang, Obit what if I told you that I am wandering in the wasteland of a war-torn country, desperate to defend my young daughter? or what if I told you that my daughter is the war-torn country, and this is America, this is America and we are in a hospital room for those who want to be protected from themselves? and what if in order to keep the war-torn country on the map I have to convince you it needs saving? maybe where we are, the name of the country, which war, whose daughter, --doesn’t matter. listen to the long gone and the newly dead, their elegy is short and sweet and pleads with us in every language: save her save her is that a clock ticking in the corner or is it a bomb? you should know that a mother determined to keep her child alive can turn anything into a weapon: a clock, a daisy, a prayer, herself. what if I told you that my suffering child is the Messiah? that unless she survives in this world, unless she makes it, you will never be safe from me?
Image by Artur Aldyrkhanov
Thanks for reading! If you enjoy Raising Mothers, please consider making a one-time or recurring contribution to help us remain ad-free. If even a fraction of subscribers signed up to contribute $1 per month, Raising Mothers could be self-sustaining!