Corruption by Hawra’a Khalfan

She hugged her growing belly tight with her palms, _I can’t wait to meet you._ She smiled, as her baby responded with the sweetest little kick, as if to say “Me too.”

Her mind drifted to her own mother and all the fading memories she has of her. The only ones that haven’t faded are the ones of her mother fighting for her. The unconditional support she always kissed into her pores. She sat at her writing desk, thought of all the wishes and dreams she has for her little girl, and began:

Corrupting young minds with material temptations. Rushing them to make life choices while they are too young to even love themselves or know themselves. Barking at them to work jobs they hate. Bleeding their days dry with false notions of finite time. Watching them fail to secure their balance, their love, their truth, their light. Corrupting young minds with notions of freedom and sovereignty. Bringing angels into a world full of demons to battle. Loving them but failing to secure their goodness within. Watching them slowly turn into their own devils. Mothers have the hardest of all jobs, making sure their little loves keep on loving. Hatred is tempting and seems to seep in from within, but mothers are our Gods. They’re our saviors. They’re our fountains of strength flowing into rivers of experiences and coating them with loving waves. Mothers are the best way to taste divine love.

She wiped the tear off her cheeks and smiled “I miss you, mom. I promise to support this little girl with every fiber of my being. I promise to love her as you loved me. To always play with her hair everytime she lays her precious little head in my lap, just as you did for me. To make her feel invincible and root in the strength you fed me, to her.”

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