The Beautiful Struggle... Continued...

Not long ago I was traveling with a friend of mine to visit extended family of hers. When I arrived at her grandfather’s home I was greeted not only by the patriarch of the family but nearly all 14 of his children. 14 children- WHEW! The oldest is 49 and the youngest is 21, and they all grew up in the same farm house. The children (all now adults) showed me pictures of their late mother and their childhood. As I browsed the photo albums I tried to imagine raising 14 children... And, then I was invited to visit my friend’s great-grandmother who lived only a few kilometers down the road.

The only thing my friend told me about her before arriving was that she was 89 years old, lived with one son, and “was very very old”. I was expecting a tired, worn woman whose age could be seen in the lines of her face and the gray of her hair. I was wrong. When we arrived Dona Francisca greeted us at the door with the smile and energy of a young adult hosting a house party. She embraced me with the strength of a long lost friend who doubles as a body builder. She scurried around the house pulling out (heavy) wooden chairs for us to sit, showing pictures of her family and Jesus (many many pictures of Jesus), putting fruit on the table for us to eat and guiding us through her home. I was mesmerized by this woman. At 89 where did she find her strength and energy? At 30 I was ready for my mid-afternoon nap!

It was while talking with her and her family that I learned that Dona Francisca had birthed 22 children in her own home. Her husband (who passed 24 years ago) cut the umbilical cord at each birth. She raised all 22 children in her home, cooked meals every day, washed all of their clothes, ensured that they all had an education and raised them in the Catholic faith. She also helped her husband plant crops, grow and harvest those crops, and raise and slaughter animals so her children would always be well fed. What? Who was this super woman? I think I spent the entire afternoon with my mouth gaped wide open in amazement at her vitality.

Before we left the house I asked if I could take a picture of Dona Francisca with some of her family members. It was then that I noticed the lines on her face. They weren’t the lines of old age though. She still has much life to live. They were the lines of challenge and struggle. They were the lines of birthing children without pain killers or a nurse/doctor to assist. They were the lines of planting and tending crops in the hot northeastern Brasil sun. They were the lines of cooking and cleaning day in and day out for 22 children and a husband. They were the lines of her life. And, each line had its own story to tell. They tell the story of struggle, pain, challenge and frustration. But also the story of joy, love, laughter, family and contentment. They are the lines of the beautiful struggle.