Womankind

My mom is moving to a new apartment at the end of the month, and this past Saturday we sat together sorting through the papers in her filing cabinet. In one folder, labeled "Memories," she discovered the following piece I wrote for The Catholic Advocate back in September of 1997, following the deaths of Princess Diana and Mother Teresa. Mom read it aloud, cried, proceeded to share it with my fourteen-year-old daughter, who also cried, and then insisted that I share it with my blog audience so you all could cry too. And, because when I reread it myself I found it extremely empowering - and also because I know better than to argue with an Italian mother - I agreed to post it.

Ladies, this one's for you.

WOMANKIND

We are not merely extensions of man. We are the essence of all being, of all nature. We are not merely caretakers, but taking care - of ourselves of others, and from others in a careful balance. We are children of God and givers of life, ideas, dreams, and adventures.

We will not succumb to labels, nor will we stand kindly in the presence of those who disrespect us in mind, heart, soul, or body. We will not resign ourselves to bitterness or envy for that which we lack. And we, who were made by Divine hands, shall not abhor our own beings. Every cell of our body breathes holiness and uniqueness.

We will embrace the other women in our lives as sisters, not enemies. We are as varied as the flowers of the field, yet one under God and as part of this earth. We form and bear life; we fortify it; by living, we beautify it; by dying, we allow it to continue.

We bear many burdens, speak the language of many hearts, and soothe many fears, careful not to lose ourselves in expectations, hopeless imaginings, or untruths. We surround ourselves with reality, and we face it with strength and dignity.

We are the hands of the saints. the great mothers who came before us, and of our mother earth. Our hands are made soft with tenderness for those in our care and rough from building and tearing down, stained from creating. They are clenched in rage, slapped away, clung to, and let go. Above all, with these hands, we mold our own souls. And joined together, those hands are Fate itself.

We stand young and old, rich and poor, with skin of earth, ivory, sane, clay, amber, and night. We are here, all Womankind, for a purpose. Seek it, sisters, with the help of the Lord, and know you are loved.