The Dawn of HopeBy: Daniel F. Gerhartz
“Mama”…no answer. “Mama, I’m talking to you…excuse me…Ma-” Abigail …hush, for the love of God, would you like it that the entire town know of our travels?” A pause. “No.” “Then simply hold tight to my hand and follow my lead okay?” “Okay…but Mama-” There’s an audible sigh let out by the young woman that’s just barely heard over the howling of the wind around them. “Yes Abigail?” “Where are we going?” “And when will we get there?” “I’m cold, and I’m tired, and I’m hungry.” The woman stops short, breaking her fast pace, and kneels down alongside that of her five-year-old daughter, searching and gazing lovingly into her soft blue eyes. Her long, blonde hair is dancing wildly across her face causing her to constantly reach up and brush it back with an annoyed sweep of her left hand, as her right is still clasped tightly in her mother’s own strong, yet delicate grasp. Kissing her daughter softly on the top of her head, and pulling her close to her breast, she runs her hands through her daughter’s golden locks and presses her face sweetly against her child’s fair, pink cheeks, her lips speaking words in a whisper only loud enough for young Abigail to hear. “I know my angel, but you must be strong and hold your head high. We shall be there shortly, and soon find comfort and peace, but until we’ve reached our journey’s end you must continue on like the brave little girl that I know you are.” Abby nods her head making it clear that she has heard her mother’s words, and as they continue on, their pace once again becomes quick and fleeting, towards where…she has no clue.
However, this didn’t bother Abby…in fact, hardly anything ever did at all, except for one thing. One thing that she could not stand to see, to know, was that her mother might be sad for even a second, because after losing her father to cancer only three years past Abby realized more than ever how much she truly needed her mother…how much a part of her she was…how much she loved her and never wished to see her shed one, single tear. She was only five, but already she understood what it meant to lose someone so close to your heart, and quite honestly she couldn’t stand to have it happen again…even if it were through tears. Yet Abby knew her mother would not falter, she was strong, determined…a fighter. They didn’t have much, but they had each other. That’s what her mother always said. She would say: “Remember Abigail, we’ll always have each other…If nothing else in this world…always each other.” And she was right.
***
The constant sting of bare feet against frozen cobblestone in the middle of the winter, and night for that matter, was almost more than Abby could stand. But each time Abby would think about giving up, she’d feel her mother’s strong hand squeezing her own, and remember what she had said, “You must continue on…you must be brave.” She was brave, and she would continue, because she hadn’t learned any other way to do things…how could she?
They turned the corner of Darvey Ave. where a small wooden building could be seen just a few yards from where they were standing on the cold stones, nightgowns of the palest white blowing anxiously in the wind. “We’re here Abigail” began the mother, a smile warming her face… “we’re here.” Abby followed her mother into the building, the door squeaking loudly as she turned the knob and eased it open. “Mama,” started Abigail, “what is this place?” With a soft sigh, the young mother looked down at her child and then back to the room in which they were standing…“It’s going to be home Abby-our very own house,” but looking down and seeing the concern in her daughter’s eyes, she simply finished by saying, “It will all become clear to you in due time my sweetest angel. And after having ended with such words, it didn’t take much longer before sleep began to take hold of the young woman, and for once, she let it be, not fighting its force. Abby however, held out just a while longer.
Finding a container with a small candle on the other side of the room, Abigail walked over cautiously picking it up and lighting it, just like her mother had taught her, striking the match hard against the box, and holding the flame close to the wick so it would explode in light. Going back over and kneeling beside her mother on a few old laid down blankets, she looked thoughtfully from the small bursting flame to her mother sleeping peacefully, beautiful, in the glow emitted from the flame of the candle and thought, “You’re right Mama…I’ll always have you no matter what…you’ll always be my Mama.” Then laying closer to her, Abigail buried her face in her mother’s long chestnut brown hair, that smelled of freshly picked flowers that she knew far too well. She imagined that she was a princess, wearing a crown of pure white flowers atop her head, and smiled happily at the idea, until there was a flicker in the flame due to a tiny draft being let in from just underneath the side door. Looking admiringly into her mother’s serene face, Abigail whispered softly just above her left ear, “Even if we’re not princesses Mama, we’ll still always have each other, always each other…I love you Mama,” and with that, she drifted off to sleep as the candle burned on for what Abby hoped would be forever…for always.
