Testing of Motherhood

"There is no good or bad, but simply opposing experiences that must dissolve into the light of ultimate reality. Labels are a false judgement against the nature of ultimate reality. It is not up to man to decide what is good or bad, but to realize through awareness that all experiences lead to the same end conclusion." ~Robert S. Cosmar

When I saw Robert's quote this morning, it made me think of a young mother I saw in the grocery store the other day.

I saw her first in the produce section. She had a toddler seat-belted in her cart and she was busy searching the table to her left for a ripe tomato. Trouble is, she had parked her cart too close to the table next to it where tempting bananas had been piled high. Her little boy had literally filled their cart with bananas and was "sampling" the one he held in his hand, peel and all.

The mother finished choosing her tomato, turned, and after seeing what had transpired within mere seconds of turning away, frustratingly asked, "What is wrong with you? Mommy told you never to touch! I have to put all of these bananas back on the table. You keep your hands to yourself, young man." I could only smile in a "been there, done that" sort of way.

The next time I spotted them was just after the latest catastrophe had already happened. The mother's face was beet-red and she was picking up paperback books from a huge pile on the floor and putting them back into slots on a revolving metal stand. The toddler was both fascinated and puzzled, saying over and over, "Books, mommy, books! I like books! Books, please?" I felt compassion for the mother who, by her facial expression, was too embarrassed to even speak.

I was in the checkout lane when I spotted them for the last time. Her cart was heaped high with the family's needs, and the little boy was crying. His mom was trying her best to keep her cool and, as luck would have it, she pulled into my lane right behind me. As I loaded my few groceries onto the black conveyor belt, I heard a quiet, exasperated voice ask, "Why? Why me?"

I couldn't help myself. I reached over and squeezed her arm gently. I told her, "There isn't a parent, grandparent, aunt, uncle, or even a cashier here who hasn't felt the very same way, ma'am. No one could fault the uncharacteristic patience you've shown. No one really knows the answer to "Why me" ... but I tend to view these times as little tests of our endurance and our love. Then with a smile, I added, "I'd have to say, you passed ..."

She hugged me.

Namaste ...
CJ