She sat there staring at the vapor emanating from her hot cup of coffee. In her hand were the badges she would sew on to her daughter's scout uniform. Her fingers worked with a life of their own as each stitch was placed, adding one more success to the sleeve.
She thought about her own badges. What had she earned up until now?
She looked at her own shirt and there was no decoration proving that she knew what she knew. There was no medal giving testimony of having come out of all those situations successful. Only her memories knew.
She looked up and stared at her reflection on the TV. A few wrinkles around the eyes, a few pounds around the waist. But mostly, her youthful looks were still there. The weight of her burdens made her feel old and tired. The sleepless nights and endless hours of worry and looking for solutions had left a mark embedded under her sad eyes. And yet, she was so young!
She reminded herself to smile and made a shy attempt to bare her teeth. But the smile didn't reach her eyes. It had been a while since it came naturally. She was dazzling when she smiled. She thought of all the good things that were worth laughing and rejoicing about. Those were her hard-fought achievements. She learned to walk again, she learned to live, to forgive and heal and fight for the good things. She was a champion at being patient and standing her ground when all else seemed to be against her. She was a fighter although her hands had never been raised in anger or to hurt.
She looked at her worn hands full of scars, her bitten nails. These hands were made for caressing, for giving and loving and holding tight, for creating beauty, for defending the weak, for mending the torn, she thought. And she stroked a long blonde lock of hair from her girl's dreamy face laying next to her thigh. Her little girl. Her greatest achievement. Her reason to get up and fight. Her greatest source of pride and joy.
And then she finally smiles and she has that glint in her eyes.
Life has not been too kind to her so she struggles to find joy in the little moments. She knows she will survive everything. She has strength in her soul even when her body betrays her. Especially then. Her healed scars are her badges and she carries them with pride.
If she had a badge to earn it would be for this: she has learned that true joy doesn't come from the places we expect. Some are just fleeting successes. Joy comes from the quiet moments when everything works as it should, the secret achievements, from overcoming fears, from winning battles and reaching new horizons. And the only way to get that joy is by hanging on to the little moments of every day that make life worth living.
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