My mother died when I was only eight years old. Daddy got drunk, we often had nothing to eat at home. I begged at school, did poorly in school, dressed poorly, and eventually it came to attention.
The child welfare inspectors came to our house several times, and soon my father was subjected to strict conditions, which, if not met, threatened to deprive him of his parental rights. Dad, fortunately, came to his senses, stopped drinking, and the subsequent inspections went smoothly.
After a while Dad said he wanted me to meet a woman he liked. We went to Aunt Mary’s. I was wary of meeting her, my memories of my mother were still very fresh, and I did not really approve of my father’s decision to get together with Aunt Mary.
When we began to talk I felt at once the warmth of her soul. We became friends with her son, who was a year older than me, and we started going to the athletic section together. Dad was happy that I took his acquaintance well, after a month we moved in with Aunt Mary, and our apartment was rented to tenants in order to have an additional source of income.
Dad didn’t have time to sign Aunt Mary, he was killed under the wheels of a car driven by a drunk driver. Officially, I was no one to my Aunt Mary, so the guardianship took me to an orphanage. When I left, Aunt Mary promised to get me back as soon as she could.
She kept her word, and in two months I was back at her house. Those two months were just enough time for me to feel the harsh atmosphere of the orphanage. I was very grateful to Aunt Mary for not abandoning me, but for being a real second mother. When I called her mom I often saw tears in my eyes, Aunt Mary is a wonderful woman and her son is a real brother to me.
Now we are adults, we have our own families, but Mother Mary is still the closest person to me and my brother. Twice mother-in-law, she never once quarreled with her daughters-in-law, and never once heard the word “mother-in-law” from them. Both my wife and my brother’s wife call her Mother Mary for her kindness and understanding. And every time I hear her call her, there is genuine joy in Mary’s eyes.
