A Story - Part III

For Part I of this story, CLICK HERE; For Part II of this story, CLICK HERE

Let us call the young black woman Olivia. I do not know her name. No one living today does.

For many days and nights after the captain's death, Olivia sat in the chair by the window, looking out on her children as they played. The young mother's housework did not get done, her chores went unattended to. Her mind was filled with a plethora of thoughts. Her face reflected the heaviness consuming her insides, and her shoulders conveyed the burden she felt.

These days and nights were a stark contrast to Olivia's normal disposition. She had always been characterized by a light and cheerful spirit, welcoming anyone into her life that happened to cross her path. She smiled...much of the time. Accepting her lot in life, this mother of small children proved to be made from the stuff women of old are rumored to made of - hard working, resourceful, and multi-talented. She had no choice. Married to a man who came and went as he pleased, Olivia learned early on in her marriage that if she would enjoy her life in the least, she would have to make it enjoyable. Gone were the expectations of happily ever after she had brought with her into her union years ago. They had all been replaced by willpower, a refusal to give up, and smiles....lots of smiles.

From the moment she laid eyes on her first born, her mind was made up. Her children deserved her smiles regardless of the situation they had been born into or the cares their mother carried. And smile she did. Through day after day of work born alone she smiled. Through week after week of her husband's absence she sat on the grass with her children in and around her lap, laughing and playing as if she was one of them. Through month after month of not having enough money, enough compansionship, or enough love, she fixed her eyes on the beauty of life that she intentionally looked for and successfully created.

Her house was simple, welcoming, and serene. The climate of this coastal town led it's inhabitants to lean towards a heavy usage of light colored furnishing and decor. Olivia's home was no different. Cream colored draperies hung at every window and framed simple rooms that held many wicker items. The walls were white as were the shutters that stayed open most of the time. The smell of home greeted any visitor because Olivia always had something on the stove cooking. If it wasn't food, it would be orange peels, apple skins, cinnamon sticks or the like. She let nothing go to waste. Olivia took pride in her home. It was always clean. She brought the beauty of the outdoors inside. Flowers grew wildly in abundance around the town and Olivia always stopped and picked a few to add color within her walls. Walking into her home was like walking into a peace of heaven.

Olivia made her own heaven. Amidst her husband's indiscretions, inconsistent employment, and addictions, money was scarce. This industrious woman made it a practice to take in ironing, sewing, and other people's children to make ends meet. She kept a garden and sold it's wares. She took cleaning jobs, bringing her children along if necessary. They were well behaved and caused her no trouble. She even ran errands occasionally. She had no buggy, no horse, no means of transportation other than her own two feet. Despite the cards dealt to her, she greatly rose above her circumstances, thus earning the respect of her community in spite of her shameful situation. In a town where the plight of a woman, a black woman, held no real thought in the mind of most whites, this woman not only earned respect but also earned compassion. People went out of their way to support her with their patronage.

When Olivia was not working, her favorite place to sit was at her window, watching her children play, her smile visible to any passerby.

Now, this same window framed a sad face, a grieved face, a face that could not be made to smile. The eyes spoke of defeat and depression. Olivia looked out of the window watching the children play but her mind was not focused on the sight in front of her. Her thoughts took her to a day, more than a year before, when, sitting at her window, she happened to noticed a man, dressed in uniform, walking along her street.

You see, it was also through this very window that the distinguished captain first saw this unbelievable woman and took notice of that warm, inviting smile.

Read Part IV