Mother to Son

Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers out there. A little something I’d like to dedicate to you all (especially my mother: thanks for all the guidance you’ve given).

Mother To Son

Well, son, I’ll tell you:
Life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.
It’s had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor –
Bare.
But all the time
I’se been a-climbin’ on,
And reachin’ landin’s,
And turnin’ corners,
And sometimes goin’ in the dark
Where there ain’t been no light.
So boy, don’t you turn back.
Don’t you set down on the steps
‘Cause you finds it’s kinder hard.
Don’t you fall now –
For I’se still goin’, honey,
I’se still climbin’,
And life for me ain’t been no crystal stair.

- Langston Hughes, 1922

From “The Collected Poems of Langston Hughes” by Langston Hughes. Copyright ©1994 by the Estate of Langston Hughes. Reprinted by permission of Alfred A Knopf, a division on Random House, Inc.

A Little Boy

Amongst the many boxes in the crowded garage filled with things like old grade school awards, report cards, knick-knacks and childhood souvenirs lies a picture. It captures a little boy just entering one of the rooms in his great-grandmother’s house on Easter Sunday.

He can’t be more than five or six at most, wearing the broad-striped, pastel blue and white Easter suit his mother forced him to wear. His hair is cut short, but not close to his scalp. His mouth is forming the biggest, widest, most playful grin you’ve ever seen. The most arresting things about the picture, though, are his eyes.

His eyes are big and bright and full of love and mischief at first glance. But if you keep looking, you’ll see more. His eyes are surprisingly wise. Wiser than you’d ever expect of someone of his stature. It’s almost as if he already knows exactly what he’ll face, though you know that’s impossible. Still, you can’t escape the feeling that he’s “been here before,” as the old folks like to say.

There’s also something else there that is harder to detect: a slight pain and sadness. Why you see this there, you’re not quite sure. Does he already know the burden he’ll carry? the fate he’ll undeniably face?

You want to tell him so much. You want to say to him “smile more.” To not listen when others put him down. You want to tell him that pain doesn’t last and yes, it is okay to hope for more out of this life. You want to tell him to watch out for the opportunities that he just might miss. You want to tell him to live without fear.

You want to tell him all these things, for one day he will be you.

D