Common Ground

It was hot  and the zoo was teeming with people. Between our two families there were 7 children under 7. We’d left the campsite earlier that morning to enjoy the zoo that was 3 times the size of ours back home.

Now I’m the type of girl who gets up everyday, like clockwork, showers, puts on makeup and  gets dressed. Normally I don’t go out without those three things happening. So to go to the zoo with only 1 thing marked off my check-list was totally out of the norm.

But you know, something interesting happened when I set aside my self-consciousness. I saw other women simply as other women. I saw them as moms and grandmothers, sisters and wives.

Not as competition.

When we look past ourselves, past the clothes and the hair,

we see people – we see souls.

I saw the furtive glances, hands tugging at shirts, and arms crossed over bellies baring the marks of motherhood. I saw that most of us at some point are ashamed of who we are.

So, I set that shame aside, looked them in the eye, and offered a smile. In that moment, though we looked rather different, we were on common ground.

We were mothers and we loved.



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