There is beauty in talking to a mother that has experienced a traumatic event.
It is even more poignant when it’s a mother defending someone who isn’t her child. A mother who is trying to save one from death.
I spoke to a mother who put her body on the line for a boy she didn’t know at all.
What got me about this is that she was literally standing over him to stop an angry mob from beating him to death.
The mob won and the boy died under her body.
If she wasn’t there the mob would have dumped his body in a refuse bin.
It was standing there – ready to be picked up and just dumped on some landfill where his corpse would become one with the earth. Imagine how the blood and bones of a murdered boy would now water the earth. His life and memories would cease to exist.
Imagine the trauma, imagine how you feel someone give his last breath right under you. How the very act of giving him water, just drips down his lips and hits the floor. He will never be able to drink water again.
“In that moment I did not fear death. I had one mission and that was to protect this boy. He was someones child, someones brother, someones father. He didn’t deserve death,” she explained to me.
A mothers love is something that I couldn’t always understand. It is all-consuming, it is fearsome and it demands respect. It is a type of love that cannot really be explained through words. From what I have seen and experienced, it is very strange for me to see the immense capacity that humans have for love, for suffering, for pain.
As I was sitting with this woman I saw something in her eyes which I have not seen in a very long time. I saw a sparkle of hope and a lot of bravery. We live in a world where not many people are brave anymore. Many people have opinions yes but not many people would put their life on the line for someone who they don’t know.
It was beautiful to see, it was like looking into a sunset and wondering why the colors are they way they are and why they work so well together. Looking into a sunset gives you hope for all that is beautiful in this world.
This woman showed me hope in her eyes. I don’t think there is anything more visceral.
The boy might be dead but I believe there is a part of him living inside that woman. We carry people by what we experience with them, their memories and their emotions.
Maybe there is still hope in this world.