The swing set:
Ella had walked hand in hand to the park no more than three blocks from her rundown efficiency. It was a loveless place, four walls which could harbor only doom and rough memories. The kind people like to forget, but also the kind that shape the human spirit.
Being born in tough circumstances - creates a kindness, in some. The power in you, to help, to change, to make a difference. But today - today you would never tell. The woman looked sweet as she lead her son to the swings.
"Sit down, Christian, Mommy will push you!" Ella's cracked lips, turned upward into that smile. The boy loved it when she smiled. It was so rare. Especially when it was directed to him.
The boy complied, with thrill. An exhilaration seen only in childhood and can seldom, sneak its way into our adult bodies, leaving a brushing air of rushing excitement...
The swing, creaked as the mother pushed her son - back and forth. The wind hit the boys face in a delightful way and he squealed. Wanting to go higher.
"Higher!" He squealed again. A happiness embodying.
Ella giggled "Hold on tight, I'm going to ship you off to space!" She took hold of the wires and went back as far as the swing would allow, slowly couting
"Five...Four...Three" Christian, grinned, a face splitting grin that could make any mother fall in love.
"Two...ONE!" and he went straight up, high, high, high and he was too, captured by a fit of giggles...
If only...Christian could fully recall this moment. He did sometimes, when Flynn or Anastasia forced him to talk about the crack whore. The brutalized, shamed and a true nobody of a crack whore. Who was also this woman here, laughing, light-eyed with her son.
If only...Ella could see, Grace. She would have kissed her hand for loving her son. Love ought to be more than blind, but without judgement, without contempt. For it comes to us all, differently. Not all would be as lucky as little Christian or so dreadfully unlucky, all at once.
Peace and love to you all.