Chronicle of mother’s love

03/10/2022 Nilson Lattari

What are the moments we can see a mother doing her best? I never thought about this. A mother is a mother, simple like that: when her babies are born, when she takes care of them, when her kids are sick or not or her eyes are filled with tears on the first day at school. When she defends them for any reason. She fights and refuses accusations against them or celebrates their victories. Poor or riches, educated or not, mothers are the same. They are fans of their kids’ success, and she doesn’t care if it is simple or not because everything is a reason for celebrating with smiles and nervous applauses.
They defend their kids against the world, sometimes against their own conscience. When they do things that mothers don’t think correct, they are capable of calling the authorities but they want their kids back, alive. They are ready to hold on to them and bet again on their future.
Mothers’ look recognizes the kids’ clothes are unappropriated. She can prevent the weather when they look through the window and find an unknown signal of rain or if the weather is going to change. She can imagine danger ahead and she visualizes it. She can describe an enemy with details as if she has known him for a long time.
For me, the best moment is a mother walking in the street with her kids by hands.
The street unlike home is a dangerous place. In the streets, there are people walking for many reasons. They are mixed in the crowd but mothers aren’t.
They cross the crowd, and open the path to their kids. They are active to take care of them like a mentor. Their tenacity to protect them is like they had thousands of eyes.
In the streets, their kids follow them towards a trail that only mothers know. The path that mothers walk is a secure and comfortable way.
We can notice mothers’ look because sometimes it scares us. It is alert, hard, and vigilant. Sometimes they are elegant or they wear simple clothes because they are in emergency. Even if they walk in the part most hidden of the side walk it’s possible to see, among women’s faces, the mothers’ faces.
When the rain falls and the streets are full of people, a mother looking for transportation home, with her baby in her arms and other kids clinging to her legs, people open space for her. Because people recognize a mother by her look.