humanity

Humanity begins at home.

The Maple Grove
When winter meets spring late in March, as the snow melts and stems push through the ground, trying to reach the sky, the sap of the sugar maple begins to run. The tears of happiness seep from the woken trees. A sign that they have survived, the long sleep of the frozen landscape. This is the time that our harvest begins from the forest.
By Dg Clearing5 years ago in Families
The Feminine Essence
The goddess within all of us as women has been greatly misunderstood for centuries. The nurturing and flowing state of a women is the physical form of beauty coming to life. Within this essence women’s souls combine as one to guide all women archetypes into a peaceful and joyous flock of beauty. Not yet a mother of children myself but always in gratitude for those that came before me. I stand strong knowing that all the females of one’s lineage have done the best they could to emerge from the shadows. They worked to be seen, heard, respected as they hold wisdom that heals. For myself – the relationship with the mother has been one of many trials. First being the journey to seeing the feminine within me – healing the emotions that are carried from generation to generation. I once looked upon my mom as a child seeing a woman of strength and resilience. She was a hero in a human suit. My mother was a loan parent, the provider, the caretaker. The individual that my life had depended on – the one I depended on to teach me the ins and outs of life. Though looking back there were times of pain, insecurity, fear – I began to overcome and forgive all that the mother had not provided me knowing that she gave all that she was able to give.
By Moorea5 years ago in Families
My Heroes Have Always Been Mother's,
I have quite a few heroes, there are the ones' I was blessed by being born into their lives, some I have met along my journey, and some were the blessings I gave birth to. I will focus on the ones who are Mother's, since this is the energy that ultimately made me the woman I am today. I would not possess the strength to overcome the things I have gone through if it weren't for every one of these women. I am grateful to each for each and every one of them.
By Trisha Behrens5 years ago in Families
Everything Is going to be okay
my mother woke from my bedside my lips blue as the ocean my skin as white as snow my breathes shallow like a puddle two years old and I looked like death
By Noelle Cepeda5 years ago in Families
What Grandma Knew...
I am lucky enough to be getting older, officially in my “late 50’s”. And in this last year of retrospect (I had lots of time on my hands), I’ve thought of some of the things I’ve experienced. When I say I’m lucky to be getting older, I mean it. I really should have died on several occasions, but for providence, I did not. So here I sit, relatively intact, typing out some of the lessons that I have connected to my grandmother. Things I didn’t understand until now.
By Amy Willard5 years ago in Families
Meeting the new school child
As parents, we deliver our children to school with trembling hearts. It's like letting all barriers fall and still being on guard at all times. We want them to be accepted both by the community and not least by the community's teachers and educators in power. We want them to keep up and become skilled or at least as competent as possible for them. In addition, we hand over the child with the experience we made ourselves as a child in school. It is not always that we manage to separate the experiences we got in school from our children's experiences. Therefore, our way of meeting the school will depend on what knowledge we have gained and what we expect from the new our children must meet.
By Mette Honoré5 years ago in Families
More Than Just My Mom
I grew up being jealous of the friends I had with one mom and one dad, happily married, one big happy family. Mine was different, I was four when my dad left my mom and I remembered when I saw her in tears. Things were never going to be the same. My siblings and I were introduced to my dad’s girlfriend shortly after. This woman became my stepmom. My mom was the single mother all my life, she worked hard, and got by. We didn’t have much, but she did everything she could when she could, to give us the things we needed and wanted. My mom struggled with depression and I didn’t notice until I was older how overwhelmed she had become with life and how hard she really struggled just to get by and stay afloat. However, my mother was always smiling even in the hardest of times, doing what she could to put a smile on others faces. My stepmom, we didn’t get along much until I was about 23 years old. She is a head strong, hard working ambitious woman. She worked hard for her career and her money and always had It. If we needed or wanted something, we normally had it, within reason of course.
By Chelsea Hope5 years ago in Families
yellow curtains
Yellow curtains. If I could, I'd breathe them in, all the whispy ghost-like fibers clinging to my teeth and tasting like the aftertaste of orange juice.
By Basil F.5 years ago in Families
Brown I Own
Wednesday, October 31, 1931 - He was born hard and feisty. Screamed so loud the nurse nearly dropped him. Good morning, Clay. Babe who fussed in his mom’s arms. He was a dark nut brown. Darker than the babe before. Grandpa Roy, a common law husband, waved his hand. “Not mine.” Grandma held him closer. “What does it matter? Color of skin. He’s yours. He’s mine.” She was a migrant farm worker. Anxious to leave the California hospital so she could make money in the fields. She placed him next to Uncle Smile. Ismael. They would always be united by her heart, womb, blood thicker than old viscous glass dripping like windows in some distant English manor.
By Risa Christy Peris5 years ago in Families
DIVASTUFF COLLECTIONS
Well, my story begins at the age of three years old. That's when my mom and my aunt Esther Lee competed for sewing sundresses and slacks for us girls.
By Gloria Winder5 years ago in Families
Motherhood in One Act
The sun isn’t even awake yet, but she’s already a failure. It’s the formula this time. She mixes the powder and water and realizes too late that she has grabbed a bottle from the dirty side of the sink. She has to start again. As she dumps it, she does the quick math in her head; 29.5 ounces in the can. The can was $34.99. 2 ounces in the bottle. How much money per ounce? It doesn’t matter. It’s liquid money oozing down the drain. Money that they hadn’t planned for and definitely didn’t have to spare.
By Jessica Conaway5 years ago in Families
She was only 12...Part 4
For every successful height I have ever attained, I dedicated them to women. The reason is quite personal. I am here writing this piece because a woman motivated me in different ways to do so. My 13-year old mother, against all the odds, technically refused to abort. She handed me over to my aunt, who accepted me because she had no male child (so I think). She, in turn, handed me over to my "paternal" grandmother.
By VICABOLS5 years ago in Families