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The Tale of Two Mothers
It’s not hard to imagine a kitchen in which a toddler sits at a table working his way through a bowl of Fruit Loops while a mom listens to the news, checks the weather on her iPhone, and sips coffee. The daycare center is paid up for the month and as soon as her son is finished with breakfast, she’ll drop him off at daycare and go on with her day.
Across town, in another kitchen, a mother isn’t listening to the news…she’s checking her bank account balance. Her son is eating whatever’s left in the fridge for breakfast. She sips a glass of water and wonders if her car will start. She’s a mom who counts the last three diapers she has and knows it’s not enough.
Same morning; very different outlook.
Over the years, I’ve grown to understand that mothers who struggle below the poverty line are not very different than me. We’ve both had our struggles. Theirs have just been a heavier burden than mine.
She is faced with soothing a constantly crying child, warding off creditors, facing penalties for late payments. Those moments of desperation must be exhausting. Day in and day out.
I had opportunity but she faces the clamor of poverty. Opportunity affords freedom. Poverty inflicts slavery.
It’s a slavery of questions for which there are no good answers. It’s a slavery of fatigue from the relentless and profound prioritizing: rent or utilities, food or medicine, diapers or gas.
The moral mistake is to treat poverty as a personal failure and opportunity like a personal virtue. Neither is entirely earned. Both are conditions that shape how hard life is. Responsibility still matters, effort still matters, but context matters too. Regardless of the decisions we make or the people we associate with, we are all capable of making mistakes and, when we do, righteous humanity demands charity toward us.
And charity cannot be limited to simply giving things or money to those in need. It resides in the respect and understanding of each person for what he/she is and in his/her intrinsic dignity as a person and a child of God.
I ask myself: Am I aware of mothers’ pain and of their tiredness and neediness? Am I quick to give her the help that she needs? Do I try to lighten the load she bears, especially when it exceeds her strength?
If these questions burn in your heart, as they do in mine, join Bottoms Up to make life-changing impact. Volunteer. Donate. Pray.
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