by Anna Colombo

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In my opinion, this drawing expresses motherhood in its wonderful simplicity.

The love of a mother, of a common mother and in the most classic sense that this term can assume; her burst of joy as she brings her little one closer to her and perhaps, in addition to her kiss, whispers a cuddle.

A look of love and joy; joy that perhaps appears involuntarily, but which can also be read in the eyes of the child, surprised, enraptured and absorbed by that sweet and loving closeness.

The universe has no other perspective, no other axis, no other center than this: a mother who lifts her child and brings him to her eye level. She raised him, she carried him within her for nine months and now she carries him next to her, she will teach him to walk and follow his own path.

Becoming a mother means no longer being at the center of her own universe: she abandons that position for her child. You become a mother not at the moment of giving birth, but after some time. Motherhood is not found in the light or even in the good example or in the list of right things to do: it is found in the gift of oneself and in the attention towards one's child.

The child calls his mother and asks:

“Where did I come from?

Where did you pick me up?”

Mother cries and smiles,

she hugs her baby to her chest and says:

“You were a desire in my heart”.

(Rabindranath Tagore)

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