Wishful Thinking Of A Child Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak

Wandering thoughts taking me into yesterdays where I was born and
grew up in poverty, never realizing that we were poor, a Mom so
happy, always laughing when with us kids.

Yet, at times getting up late at night, having to go to the bath-
room, hearing Mom crying beyond closed doors, and I would wonder
why.

Not knowing the stress of being a parent raising eight children
through poverty, wanting to give them so much more, but having
no means in which to do so.

Thinking to hug her and make her tears go away, yet not daring
to intrude on her privacy of sadness with the wishful thinking
of a little child who loved her Mother.