Today at the soup kitchen, someone donated live red roses, and someone else donated body wash, I think, in gift sacks for our clients.
And the women were thrilled. They smiled, they beamed. One elderly woman, Hispanic, who speaks so little English, came by and gave me a hug, though I had nothing to do with it. She gave a great hug, and I beamed and hugged her back.
We gave roses and gifts to every woman in the place who would take it.
Some lost their children long ago, or recently. Some have them in poverty. Some were grandparents. Some were single and never had children. All were honored.
I can be a little didactic at times.
"Everyone?" I asked, "whether they really are mothers?"
Yes, I was told. And they were right.
That all the women got something, a living red rose and body wash in a festive sack, I think it mattered.
I have volunteered here for months. I have never heard the contented hum of today, when women were honored here as women, not mothers. Not really. Many have no children, many lost their children, but we can honor them overall as women.
Today was an honoring of women. That they are valued, treasured, deserving of gifts.
It was one of the happiest days I have ever spent.