My great-grandma, Willie, was born in 1907 as her parents made their way from “Indian Territory” in Oklahoma to a homestead claim in Eastern New Mexico. Only a few months earlier, her one-year-old brother had died. Those circumstances sound unbearable to me.
Yet, in the retelling of the story, I never heard details of the hardship. That’s not what my great-grandma’s story was about.
Generations later, the story I heard was of the kindness of the strangers in that small Texas town. They provided everything the family needed for a burial and when the time came, they helped with the birth. They tended to my great-great-grandma as she simultaneously grieved for one child and cared for another. They even provided paid work for her husband so that they could linger for a while.
The women in my family’s history were strong, but they were not invincible. We could all use some help now and then.
Be kind to each other and tell stories of kindness.