The Walk of a Gracious Woman
by gina below
It would have been easier for her to lay it down and walk away, but she had never been a coward regardless of what life had thrown her way. She had always kept her dignity when there had been nothing else. When everything was falling apart around her it was the one thing she had held on to. She was the one who had to look at her reflection in the mirror every day and if she did not respect herself no one would. Some days though the grief was a great heavy load and on those days there was only one reason she managed at all, one reason alone that made her draw air into her lungs and heave her weary body up with the dawn and get on with one more day. But one reason is all there is needed sometimes and she would rise and thank God for that one thing and walk into the light of a new day.
There were things that had to be done, things that could not be left for others because there was no one else. Some days she would stumble and fall, but she would somehow manage to find her bearings again. She would catch her breath and pull herself up and dust herself off and hoist herself to her feet and continue on. Then the dusk would greet her and she knew she had made it through one more day. It was a day she could be proud of, another day she had faced with dignity and grace.
As the minutes turned into hours, and the hours would in turn become days, the days would roll into weeks, the weeks would meander into months, and the months would bring the seasons, and the seasons would bring with it the years. With the years a certain peace would follow as she in turn watched her one reason grow into more. She would find her reflection changed in her mirror now, but it was one she was satisfied with, one she had worked for, one she was not ashamed of. She could see she had made a difference, and maybe it only meant something to her but she had accomplished a life. A life she could be proud of, ever how small it was, and she in turn would pass it on.
She would pass it on to her one and only reason, the single thing that made her continue on, her children. Her only daughter would in turn carry on with the dignity and grace she had witnessed her own Mother never lack from. When times were hard she prayed, when times were impossible she prayed harder and every breaking dawn found her there even if it was a struggle just to be. And she in turn would try her very best to pass it on to her own daughters.
I suppose it is a dying art, one not sought out by the young women of today. It is not an easy task by any means, a rare accomplishment to say the least. But I was privileged to have seen such a thing, to have had it in my midst, to be touched by it. If anyone had ever had an excuse it would have been her, and her Mother before her. But as she had told me often “Just because you have an excuse does not give you an excuse”, and she would smile and go about her task at hand. You will miss it if you are not careful, like a soft breeze through the trees. Its beauty touches you so gently you are sometimes unaware until it is gone. But if you are very lucky as I have been, consider yourself especially blessed to have witnessed the walk of a gracious woman.