Survivor

As I looked out over the city today, bathed in sunlight, my thoughts could not completely stray from the image of this woman who is a regular customer at Taco Bell. I have often wondered what life must be like for her. I wonder if what people say about her is true. I dont know, but there is something about her that I cannot seem to shake. Perhaps it is that she is loved by God and His heart weeps over her.

They say she is a prostitute. Perhaps she is or perhaps they are merely jealous of her expensive silver car which would seem to indicate that she has exorbitant amounts of money. With streaky blonde and oily hair, heavy make-up, and ever present cleavage; she does look the part. Maybe she is. At this point in our acquaintance, I cannot say for sure. I can say that she carries the aura of a survivor as her eyes dart about, her movements are jerky, and her smile seems forced. Whatever her circumstances, life has been hard. Life has made her shrewd and, perhaps, bitter. She is always polite to me when I take her order. I have never had a need to complain of her harshness, yet there is a harshness about her. It is reflected in the starkness of her rouge. What does she have to live for? What is the purpose of her survival? Like many women who have been battered by injustice and would have given up had it not been, she has a child. As I ran her credit card and we waited for her food, we chatted about her son who has an obsession for Taco Bell food. She admitted, with some embarrassment, that "we eat here too much." As I often see her and I know that she always orders a chicken burrito, I can verify that she is a regular customer. She mentioned that her son prefers our food over her making something at home. There seemed to be a hint of failure in her voice. Perhaps it merely stemmed from her feeding him food that she knows is unhealthy or perhaps it stems from her inability to cook. She may feel like she is an inadequate mother, but there seems to be in her a tenacious drive to protect and provide for her child. I would wager that she would die for this little boy who is developing the appetite of a man. Whatever else she may be, she is a mother like any other mother who is striving to give her child the best that she can.