A Mothers Space

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Literary Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic

Ancient Greece is invaded by Rome, Rome being an allegory for the building of anything throughout human society by the way of violence. Greece in the story representing all people on Earth living in peace. A mother of Greece gives her thoughts as she becomes a refugee.



  Now, in all the time and silence that surrounds me, I have begun to hear my own thoughts, and I have a need to share them.

A mother as she goes along in her life learns that it is the thoughts of her children which she listens to most.

When they speak in a voice that is not of words but of fluttering movements, she begins to know them as a magic from within as it begins there where they are growing and changing inside her.

Then when they are before you, still tiny, and they begin to speak in words that are merely sounds, it is like music to a mother’s ears, the tone of it is, and now there is true listening and she finds that she can know of their thoughts even when they are silent.

The place we are in, my family and I, is of the first refugees, the very first homeless of the Earth. What I used to call home was taken by others who came from somewhere far from where they were born and so very far away from a mother’s voice, the one that speaks that we all may hear.

 I know they are different from us because of what was told to me by others in our village. They had different clothing and it was said of them that even their nature was unlike the men of our land.  

They came to my home and took our village from us, and in time I came to know it was because of them that I lost my second son.

 He left us one summer’s day to seek work in another town. It was a sad day for me and a proud one for his father, my husband; he was to return in a year to be a part of his father’s trade. We waited but as summer came and went he never returned and I knew my gentle son was lost. War had come to us out of the blue to a place that had never known conflict before. It shocked our spirits that men could have other men put to death and their families driven from their homes.




I didn’t know what war was until I heard truly angry and ugly voices for the first time.

One of them coming from my oldest born son, who said he would join the army that was forming to fight in the name of his brother and to keep our land what it was. I spoke as best I could for my second son, who was wise and gentle, but still a young man when he left. And I told my only remaining son that he who was gone would not want to lose his brother to something that can swallow and devour.

After nearly three long years of him no longer with us, I told myself that even if he was still alive and he could return, that I would not know him. Because a mother is certain that as we stay close together as a family we create one another, through memories built in time.

 “Our village is gone and we can’t get back to it, we are this land and we have been changed against our will, and there is anger and mistrust. Things will be broken by war and they will never be put together again, and your brother cannot be brought home to us.”

My son after much pleading from me, stayed with us. My husband, now so much older after everything we have lost, needed him to try to take his place to help me and his two sisters.

 I told him we needed him with us as a real man, strong in peace and still sane. As so many young men were losing themselves to a monster which they were turning into as they fought.

At first my son thought himself a coward, but as all real mothers know the strong and truly brave fight the thing that beacons you to wage battle within the family which is all of humanity. It is how we lose the war to remain human and instead become something of the beast.

  Now the world is filled with strangers, I won’t say enemy as many have, but they are strangers. People who before were just others I had yet to meet, became those to be wary of and I will feel that wariness from now until my death.





I think of what I might have done to bring this upon us, for I learned as a mother, a woman and not a girl, that our children are so needy and innocent and it is why we must be at fault somehow.

Now I sit, my youngest daughter in my arms asleep, in a place of strangers who gave us shelter as refugees.

 I think to myself, were we greedy, my husband and I? He was a merchant and we lived simply, some would say we were poor, but we didn’t’ feel that way. Did we want too much, is that why we are paying such a harsh price? I have a young daughter to raise, a child.

 I try to push away thoughts of her future. I could dream before, of a home for her and of someone to care for her as she is growing old. Now the dream would only bring nightmares, and I cannot have them because I have to be strong and not show fear.

 I must smile for her now so she is not afraid of life, and to do that I have to forget, I have to forget the son I lost and the horror of how he might have died at the hands of vicious men.

As I let go of the memories of one of my children, on my face my daughter will see not to give up and that people are kind and they don’t kill each other. And the smile I will show her will be genuine, as I lose something when I do, for what I give to her might also be a lie.

 It is a mother’s job to send hope to her children. A father can say, “Don’t be so sure, life may not turn out the way you would want.” That is his job to warn and caution, but ours as mother is to give hope so they can move forward into the future sound and whole.

 I have listened to my children’s thoughts even as they were seen upon their faces by me when they were silent, and I have tried to teach them to be the same way with others,  to see and to listen.






Each child you bear has a piece of your heart.

I’ll forget my son, and my heart will be less burdened when I am done, and I can smile for a little girl who needs it, but what a price to pay. I think now my husband and I should have had our first two only, my son and second daughter for them to replace he and I upon the Earth.

I think we were greedy and now I grieve. My sorrow will end when I close my eyes in a final dreamless sleep. Whether my daughter has someone to love her or not, I will not know, but in time I will finally find a space of release.

I have been selfish I know it, and my children have paid dearly because of greed.

As I sit here with my youngest child, I know now that the realm of Hell is real as it was created by us on Earth through our actions. And as I believe it is so, I must also hope for those such as my daughter, that one day there will be peace.

Submitted: January 20, 2017

© Copyright 2021 LE. Berry. All rights reserved.

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