Our Mothers

"Ma'am, we worry about our mothers so much in the winter! They're working so hard, washing clothes by hand outside, even in the cold of winter..."

Razi's voice was suddenly filled with urgency and deep concern, and her fellow Afghani students nodded and chimed in with unified agreement. We had just read an excerpt from a psychology textbook that presented a statistic on how women are twice as likely as men to suffer from depression. Why is this? we had asked. After one or two rather shallow answers were given -- including the myth that "women are emotionally weak" -- Razi had boldy asserted her sense that women in her culture bear heavier burdens, both physical and mental. In a society that had denied her an education, Razi's mother's fate was to marry young and begin the rough chores of wife and mother in a village household. After the example of her own mother, a light seemed to flicker on in every student, and a chorus of stories of our mothers' devotion poured out of girls from every culture. "Sacrifice" is one English word that my students have very little difficulty comprehending, as images of their mothers reaching into cold buckets of soapy school uniforms provide a definition more apt than any dictionary's.

So here is a tribute to our mothers, and to their sacrifices.

Across borders, cultures, and languages, they are called "blessed."

To my mother, I love you and admire you more than these words can speak. Thank you for your strength and unwavering devotion. I miss you every time I wrap my sari and remember your graceful arms extended to Benjamin, David, and I, in the sugar cane fields of Ishurdi.