Haiku for My Mother (1)

 Mom came from extreme poverty in Panama. I believe she was the seventh child of nine. And from what I understand, the dirt-floor home she grew up in was pretty much in the middle of the hilly jungle countryside. She told us a few stories of her early years. Some stories were scary, like when she was washing clothes in the river and looked across and saw a black jaguar looking at her. Some stories were sad, like when she helped a woman wash the body of that woman's small child. Mom told us some funny stories, too. There were times that she walked to school through the forest and there would be a monkey that threw stuff at her and her siblings. I'm not sure what it threw at her, but I remember finding that story amusing. 

 

Today is Mom's birthday, and after I visited with her and gave her a gift, I drove home thinking of her birthday and wondered what her birthdays were when she was a child. I never did get very many details of Mom's childhood. But, from what I gather, overall, Mom had a rough one. I'm pretty sure she did not get all the attention and love she needed. I know she had to fix her own hair at a very young age because her mother would not. She slept on the floor on a mat and she probably didn't have many toys, nor nice clothes. Mom did not go to school much--she perhaps had a 3rd grade education. Her family needed the extra help she could give on the little bit of farm land my grandfather had. (He eventually lost all the land to a swindler). I'm pretty sure she saw things a child shouldn't ever see. Mom has come a long way from that dirt-floor hut she grew up in. I wonder if the little-girl-Mom dreamed her life could change so much. 

Today's haiku is written for the little girl who grew up to be my mom. I wish I could have told her this.

One day you will find

Comfort, safety and much love,

Be strong, persevere.