Each minute of our life is a lesson but most of us fail to read it. I thought I would just add my daily lessons & the lessons that I learned by seeing the people around here. So it may be useful for you and as memories for me.
The first face……The first touch….The first love……he first affection…The first hug
Mother…………….. A women.
Do I need to say about “the first” anymore??
This is a tribute to our mothers, grandmothers and sisters or the women who have come and gone throughout centuries and the women who are here today taking their place; women like you and me.
This is a tribute to women from all walks of life. No matter where they came from or what position or status they held, these are women who have toiled the soil for most if not all their living years. These are the women who worked for hours, days, even years, often non-stop, pouring their sweat, sometimes their heart into what they felt needed to be done. Some of these women got to see the fruit of their hard labor while others didn’t. One thing is clear though, no matter what little satisfaction they got or didn’t get out of it, they still got the job done otherwise you and I wouldn’t be here today living the life we lead.
Throughout time these women have done their share of the work often quietly and sometimes not so quietly, at times, even with a lot of anguish and despair too But in the end they did the work because they knew if they didn’t, no one else would.
While some of these women chose the work they gave their time and effort, more often than not, they didn’t have the luxury of choice. Many felt their work was their fate and so it was only their duty to accept it and carry it out. Perhaps as a result, many also carried the burden of resentment. But they still stayed and did the work and quietly buried their grief within themselves. Some carried their grief and resentment into their graves, or maybe it was the grief and the resentment that finally carried them to their graves. Either way, many left and still leave today with a heavy heart and a silent voice. This is a tribute to all these women who have come and gone, and those who are here today doing the work but are rarely seen, recognized or acknowledged for their share.
Though these women come from all races, religions, sects and cultures, we are able to relate to them as our own mothers, sisters, aunts, and grandmothers. This strong kinship always existed among women. No matter from what part of the world we come from, whenever we hear about another woman who may be lost her life to cancer, we let out a deep sigh of despair for we only know too well of the pain that finally took her precious life. We know her as our own because her pain is our pain.
So let us come together, pay tribute and celebrate the lives of these women through celebrating our own precious lives. Let us celebrate our own talents and unique qualities and give ourselves the acknowledgment and the recognition due for our efforts and hard work however big or small. Let us recognize and honor the mother, the sister, the aunt and the grandmother within ourselves and within each other and remember that like a burning candle that illuminated the dark, we too need to honor and cherish the light within ourselves and each other for giving light to the world around us.
Please feel free to share your story and any lessons you learned, you experienced , you came across in your life in the comments below.