[1]
A heart-rending story (via Bloomer [2]) –
“ […]Her family was hungry, but her neighbors had rice; the smell of it was tormenting her. So her mother hugged and comforted her, which made her realize that her mother’s smell was so much more important to her than that of the rice. Then her mother died, but before she did, she asked her husband to take some of the little money they had, to buy her daughter some rice. She wanted her daughter to have that comfort.[…] ”
The original story [3] is at the Afghan Women’s Writing Project website [4].
There is no worse fear for a mother than the fear of not being able to feed her child. It’s been only fifteen days, but I know.
Someday, I should re-write this tale from the mother’s POV.