Motherhood

In a very small town, of about 2000 inhabitants, everyone knew each other and got along very well, but…

On just one point they differed: there were arguments and they couldn't manage to agree.

In the center of the main plaza there was a statue that, to some, was hideous, out of proportion, and they wanted it replaced; to others it was historic, no one knew how long it had been there, and it radiated something. It was made of white marble; on the pedestal it said "MOTHERHOOD." It showed a very heavyset woman, seated on a bench with her arms held forward and her hands joined, leaving a large hollow enclosed between them (which filled up with leaves and had to have a crew sent to clean it out); that was one of the reasons they wanted it taken away. Those who defended it said that a child had probably once been placed there, and now it was gone, to fill that hollow.

But there are things that happen that no one can explain. One day a boy of 5 or 6 appeared, malnourished, with enormous eyes standing out from his little face; he asked for food, he wouldn't take money because he didn't yet know it could be turned into food. Everyone gave him something and wondered who he was and where he'd come from. They asked him, but only his eyes gave thanks; he didn't answer.

Night fell and the only shelter he found was the hollow of the motherhood statue. He curled up inside and felt those outstretched arms holding him; he fell asleep and dreamed that someone was tucking him in, caressing him: they were the first caresses of his life. He dreamed he lived in a house where he was loved; that was the most beautiful night of his short life.

The morning sun on his eyes woke him; it took him a moment to realize where he was, and he saw that he really was wrapped in a blanket. He touched it, it was soft as a caress; he was afraid it would vanish like the dream. Slowly he peeked his head out to look around and saw that on the pedestal there was an old woman, who stood up and helped him down, stroked his hair and said to him: "I can't be your mother, but I can be your grandmother. I didn't want to keep living, because I had no reason to; now I'll live to take care of you, to love you, until you're grown."

They say in the town that ever since that day, there's a smile on the statue's face, and they call it "THE MOTHERHOOD OF MIRACLES."