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Mother's Day is not Happy for Everyone

Updated on February 11, 2018

"What is it like to have a Mommy?" asked a little voice behind me. I turned and there was a little girl, maybe about 7 years old.

The date was May 6th and I was volunteering in a day care center for the underprivileged. We were in the middle of a Mother's Day Celebration. Many mothers were present with their children, but this little girl was alone.

I knelt down next to her as she continued.

"I don't have a Mommy," she told me. "My Mommy went to heaven to live with God when I was a baby. I don't even remember her.

Daddy says she didn't want to leave us. He says she was really sick and that God took her to heaven so that she wouldn't suffer anymore. I'm glad she doesn't hurt anymore, but I sure wish she was here.

Daddy cuts my hair short cause he doesn't know how to fix it pretty if it was long. He buys me shorts and shirts to wear but never any pretty dresses.

He taught me to skate and play ball and ride a bike. The other girls play house and dress up and make up, but I don't know how to do that.

When they have Mommy and Me stuff at school, I can't go cause I don't have a Mommy. Sometimes when I try to do something and I can't, one of the other kids will say, "Didn't your Mommy teach you anything?" and I have to say "no".

If I could have anything in the whole, wide world, I wish I could have a Mommy. Nobody understands."

I put my arms around her and pulled her close so that she wouldn't see my tears. I didn't know what to tell her. I didn't know how to make her feel any better. I wanted to tell her that I understood, but my voice wouldn't work. I wanted to tell her that it would be okay, that the hurt would go away, that everything would be better, but I couldn't.

I couldn't because I truly do understand. You see, my mother died when I was a small child and I don't know the answer to, "What is it like to have a Mommy."

About this story

Once again, it is the week before Mother’s Day and we are being bombarded with all manner of remembrances and advertisements urging us to honor those who gave us life. For someone who never had this blessing in her life, the intense focus on it becomes tedious and even painful.

I wrote this story a few years ago. The story is fiction, but the emotions are all too real.

© 2015 Nancy Nuce


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