Grateful for my Gifts

In reading ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ I am reminded of a picture I saw a few months back that captures the essence of the Depression Era during the late 1920’s and 1930’s.  This picture helped define thatgeneration.  I am drawn to this time period particularly because of the suffering endured.  The poverty, starvation and general hopelessness. HOW did they do it? Was it not knowing anything different? Was it your lot in life? What did you have to say to yourselfto get from one day to the next, from one period of pennilessness to the next?  My admiration and pity for them is bone deep. 

This lady amazes me.  7 kids.  I have 2 and I know today is MUCH more fast paced than it was in the 30s but I struggle with the juggling act. I’d never imagine doing a similar juggle ~day in and day out~ with 7 little ones and frozen vegies, zero income. She’s 32. Look at her face!!!  She’s worn, dirty and tired looking.  She’s also looking hopeless to me.  Her kids are hurting and she’s at a loss to help them. What are some things they ask of her? Do they play? Does she have the luxury and desire to play withthem?  I wish I could ask her.  She makes me thankful for the life I had.  Even with all its pitfalls I am more than blessed to have the life I have. I have fallen into every wonderful thing I have in front of me and can’t express my gratitude enough.  WhenI was 32, I moved to a brand-new freshly built home. I had to clean, healthy children.  I drove a newer van and was making upward movement in my job. I loved my job.  I struggled with motherhood with a special needs 6 year old and a 4 year old and the expenseof daycare.  WOW, what problems I have….blah blah blah in comparison. No to say my struggles were not what they were but this perspective helps me stiffen up a little bit. I thank this nameless woman for that. She’s given me the gift of perspective. 

The explanation for her story is captured below; here is my source:  http://www.loc.gov/rr/print/list/128_migm.html

   


Here is her story:

I saw and approached the hungry and desperate mother, as if drawn by a magnet. I do not remember how I explained my presence or my camera to her, but I do remember sheasked me no questions. I made five exposures, working closer and closer from the same direction. I did not ask her name or her history. She told me her age, that she was thirty-two. She said that they had been living on frozen vegetablesfrom the surrounding fields, and birds that the children killed. She had just sold the tires from her car to buy food. There she sat in that lean- to tent with her children huddled around her, and seemed to know that my pictures might help her, and so she helpedme. There was a sort of equality about it. (From: Popular Photography, Feb. 1960).

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