In light of Mother’s Day yesterday, Marti and I recalled this wonderful poem by Beverly Cunningham, who was without a home at the time we first met her and living at the Isaiah House for Women in Santa Ana, California. It’s a poem that beautifully captures what I shared in our Facebook church message last night — that our mothers are not perfect, but love can win out if we learn to forgive. This is a beautiful poem from a mother’s point of view about how her adult child has forgiven her, and how much that means to her.
The assignment from church was to sit down and write your mom a letter. Might be a good idea for all of us. And write us if you’d like, and let us know how that experience went. Were you able to love her, forgive her even though she may have screwed up your life, and then tell her she’s the best mother in the world because she’s your mother and she gave you life?
Through the Eyes of a Child
by Beverly Cunningham
I called up a woman
It was time to reconcile
About the memories of abuse
The woman was my adult child
When she answered the phone
It was then I realized
I needed to say this in person
I needed to look into her eyes
Upon my request she came
With her radiant smile
And my apology began
For abusing her as a child
For no reason other than
Her just having breasts
Hitting and pushing her around
It was me hating myself
Her running to me — my neck
Her arms around
Then my anger unleashing itself
As I shoved her to the ground
Beautiful brown eyes
Such an angel face
I purged from her tears
Yes tears, taking laughter’s place
By the time I had finished
I was sobbing on my knees
She said, “Mom, please get up.
Now this is what I see:
Not a bad mom
Because early on God was summoned
No, Mom, not just an excuse
You were just an imperfect woman
Now let me look back
To my memories for a while
Let’s find those hidden treasures
Through the eyes of a child”
(And she said,)
“I remember all those things
The bitterness — the shouts
But there are those other things, Mom
That self-hatred left out
A baby in the walker
A guard rail for the stairs
The singing of ‘He walks with me”
While I coo in the high chair
The spontaneous ‘pick-me-ups’
The gentle parting of my hair
Swinging me around and around
Doing helicopters in the air
Alfie’s playing our song
My homemade Halloween cape
Days of serials and recalled carseats
Dual-sided cassette tapes
Dancing on your feet
Barbie oven
Lightbulb to cook
Or just tickling me all over
And reading ‘Little Golden Books’
I remember kindergarten
First time leaving my sight
Your hands clinging to the chain link fence
And tears streaming from your eyes
I rushed across the playground
And back in your eyes came the light
And I said, ‘Mommy, don’t worry
I’ve got new friends; I’ll be alright
Now I’m 39 years old, Mom
I’ve got one son, and two girls
They say I’m a great mom
‘Cause I had the best mom in the world
Click here to see an interview with Beverly, and a video of her reading this poem.
About Beverly
Beverly was brought up in the “Projects” in Santa Ana with 5 brothers, all older.
Beverly believes her mother rejected her because she was not beautiful like her. She developed humor to find a place under the sun. She has been abandoned, placed in foster care, and then returned to her mom; been raped; caught in a drunken rage resulting in 3 broken ribs and an arm plus a black eye; lived in a car; heavily involved with drugs. While never married, she has 3 children (2 girls and a boy). She beat the oldest girl constantly and for everything. One of the daughters is a bipolar victim. Beverly is always pleased when she learns that she is in prison because (1) She knows where she is, and (2) She is on her medication. Her son is in penitentiary far away and has been for some time.
Her story is real.
But Beverly’s life with the Lord is even more real.
Great Catch. God’s speed & many blessings to Beverly & her children. ❤
even if you read this, you need to go watch the video also. Thank you for sharing. So many folks sitting in this same situation today…
Incredible! Thanks for sharing!