Cradling his tiny body, caressing his soft skin, watching his first step, and singing lullabies as he lays asleep…the profound joy of motherhood.
Every woman’s dream is to have her own progeny- the real essence of being in existence. A small being wrapped in untold elation that enfolds the heart of a mother…
Those innocent smiles enough to lit up a house, the invisible halos that touched the deepest core of a mother’s soul are just some of a woman’s reverie.
Yet, it’s a paradox how an angel could be referred to as “unwanted”. The innocent beings who are supposed to be gifts from above turned out a burden and a dilemma.
I cringe whenever I watch news about babies thrown like a piece of garbage in the trash can. There was this fetus found in the pile of rubbish, a baby left in a corner of a church, a little girl killed by her own father, and other endless stories of cruelty to children.
They are called as “unwanted” when their moms are unwed before birth or when the family is too large that having them means additional mouth to feed. They are unplanned and therefore unwelcome.
Some are lucky enough to finish the ninth month in their mother’s womb. Others are not and lives were taken even before those tiny limbs and hearts developed. Their moan of anguished inside were silence with a piece of instrument.
Their death served as a catalyst of survival for those young mothers who are ill-equipped for “unwanted” babies.
As these people made an evil scheme of ending the innocent life of their own flesh and blood, are they aware that there are souls out there praying and hoping for them to have their own angels yet incapacitated to do so?
It’s ironic that those who can afford and are educated enough to give a good future to their children are also those who are not lucky enough to be given their own gift.
Life is a mystery that one should continue to unravel everyday. There’s a reason and a purpose for everything…
Could it be that a tiny soul is somewhere out there hoping and praying to be saved by a stranger’s maternal heart because his own mother can not do it for him?
As I said it’s a mystery…one that I intend to find out as I continue my journey…
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This is a fraction of who am I. The ‘I’ is often ignored because ever since I could remember ‘we’ and ‘they’ hold more responsibilities since they denote more number of people involved.

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ReplyDeleteThanks for introducing me...some real nice writing I have come across lately!
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