Journal 2: Burroway, Warm-Up, page 87
The wrinkles covering her face attempted to hide it but one could see that the passion was alive in her eyes. They sparkled a brilliant blue and gleamed even more when she focused on her daughter. One couldn’t tell by the muddy leaf covered hut they lived in or the naked skin on their feet but when she looked upon her daughter, she was the luckiest woman alive. Her husbands smile emanated from her daughter when she received a treat and although it brought her great joy, the lump in her heart at his lose almost overwhelmed her emotions. The woman could still picture crystal clear in her mind the day he was beheaded for protecting them from rebel soldiers and it haunted her dreams all the more. However, as her daughter played with stray dogs and laughed with other children, it was almost as if he was still alive and well.
As she strained to teach her daughter the reading and writing skills of her people, the woman longed for the day she would tighten the straps of her daughters backpack and place her lunch neatly inside as her daughter impatiently jumped up and down waiting for her friends to arrive so they could walk to school together. When her husbands lifeless body didn’t vividly flood her mind, she dreamt of the life she so desperately wanted for her daughter. She pictured a suit fitting perfectly on her daughter’s narrow shoulders and a briefcase occupying her right hand. She imagined an office with a computer and a shelf of seemingly endless books. The dream was just out of reach and although it could not become a reality at present, she so anxiously hoped it would one day.
Her daughter would constantly voice her dreams of moving to America and riding her pony, named Cruz (Spanish for tails), to work as the sun shone radiantly on her path. As her daughter expressed her dream, the woman would recognize a brilliant blue sparkle in her eyes and could not help but laugh, and with a wide smile of only a dozen dull yellow teeth, tell her that this dream would one day come to fruition. Yet she knew that it would take a miracle from the hands of God alone to make this a reality. Still, the daughter would carry on about ludicrous visions such as riding dolphins in her free time and buying gallons of ice cream to quench her craving of sweets and the woman would continuously agree and tell the daughter “one day, my love.”
As the woman worked the fields with her compadres, full of vegetation to be eaten by those more fortunate than herself, they would discuss their children’s future and time after time the woman would declare the plans she had for her daughter to be successful. Her vision was so vivid and so full of fervor that the other women couldn’t help but agree and, gazing off into the beaming sun, reverie of its fulfillment. Likewise, the woman would smile almost toothlessly and as she gazed at the sun, her heart would break a little more each day because, although she’d admit it to no one, not even herself, the vision was only alive and would only ever be alive inside her head. Ever so slightly, her brilliant blues eyes would become dull and almost inert.