Who Am I

The sun awoke me early that morning. At first, I thought the darkness of the night before was a dream. But before long, I realized it wasn’t. I began to look around, still having no clue as to who I was or even how I’d gotten here. I was in the middle of woods that led out to a park or something.
Shortly after I awoke, I began to hear something. I followed the sound, and it led me to a woman sitting on a bench talking. I looked around to see whom she was talking to, but I did not see anyone else. She was alone. She looked scary; her clothes were dirty and torn. Her hair hung long from underneath a covering on her head. She looked up and saw me, and I saw sadness in her eyes. She kept talking to whoever she was talking to. I wasn’t ready to move from the tree I was still standing by. I wanted to know if this woman was a good scary woman or a mean scary woman. She looked up at me once again, still saying nothing. She looked at me with a blank stare. Something in her eyes told me she was not that mean scary woman. She had a wagon that was full of bags, which made me think she might have food, and I was hungry.
As I stared a little longer, she stood up, took hold of her wagon, and began to walk away. I didn’t know what to do. Should I stay put or follow her? But my feet were moving in the same direction she was going. I didn’t want her to see me following her, so I stayed a little ways behind her, watching her closely all the while. I didn’t take my eyes off her. She came to a big can and began going through it. She took something out of it and then bowed her head, closed her eyes, and began to eat. As I watched her eat, my stomach let me knew I wanted some of what she was eating.
I began to walk closer until I was finally behind her wagon. She took something else out of what I knew then was a trash can. She handed it to me. I took it and, not thinking about where it had come from or whether it might even be nasty, put the food to my mouth. But she stopped me before I could eat. She showed me how to bow my head, close my eyes, and then begin to eat. To me, nothing had ever tasted so good. I didn’t know what I was eating. All I knew was that I was hungry and whatever I was eating was good.
Every time the old woman would move, I followed her. She went from can to can looking for more food. She shared some food with me and placed some into her bags.
She never said a word to me, but I knew she could talk, even though she remained quiet as if she couldn’t. I broke the silence by saying, “Thank you.”
She nodded her head as she continued to pull her wagon, leading us out of the park to a wooded area under a bridge. She knew I was behind her. She kept walking; never once did she try to stop me from following her. We finally made it to the bridge; she had so many things under it, as if she was living here. I was wondering if this was her place away from home, like kids have their tree houses. She had blankets and crates under the bridge. On the far side of the bridge was a small tent she fixed up like a little camp. She walked to the other side of the bridge and opened a crate. She pulled a large jug out of the crate and picked up an old can. She poured something into the can and stretched it out towards me. I came closer to her so I could reach the can. I began to drink from the can, realizing I was drinking water. I was thirsty. I drank every drop and handed the can to her saying, “Thank you.”
She still did not say anything, only giving a nod.
She then went to retire on a blanket she laid out. She laid one out for me, and I went over and sat beside her on the blanket. I wanted to ask her so many questions. But she sat in silence, and so I did the same. I felt cold, and as I lay down, she wrapped the blanket around me. For once, I felt a little safe, not so afraid. I was with someone and not alone. Was she my mother? Was this our home?
I had so many questions for her, for anyone, but for now, I decided to keep the silence and fell into a peaceful sleep.
I didn’t know how long I’d been asleep. But when I woke, I realized the woman was not there. I jumped up and looked around; yes, she was gone and the sun was going down. Her bags were still here; only her wagon was gone. Had she left to return to her home and left me here?
As a grip of fear began to come over me, she appeared, pulling her wagon. I felt a sigh of relief, glad to see her. She came and sat down beside me, handing me food. I ate, thanked her as I began to eat my food, and thanked her when I was finished. She still only nodded, not speaking a word.
She was as nice as a mom to me. Was she my mother? I really wanted to know, so I broke the silence with the question. “Are you my mom?”
She looked at me with a look of love in her eyes; yet the look also contained great hurt and pain. She never answered yes or no; nor did she even nod. She just offered a smile. I smiled back as she turned and looked away. We sat there in silence again.
I had to try again, even though I knew my efforts might lead to no response from her. Therefore, I asked, “Do you know me? Am I your daughter? If so, what is my name?”
I began to tell her that I did not have any memory of anything. I went on to ask, “Is this home? Why are we here?”
I also asked about my dad. Still she said nothing.
Then I asked, “Do I have any brothers or sisters?”
That final question seemed to bring sadness—her eyes filled with pain—but still no answers. She stood up and walked away. I felt bad, since I seemed to have made her feel and look so sad.
She soon came back to where I was; her face was still full of sadness and pain. I told her I was sorry for making her so sad. She smiled and patted me on the head. I was relieved and assumed everything was all right again.
As it began to get dark, somehow being with her, I did not feel so afraid. I felt the woman would protect me from anything. Her smile reassured me. She began to gather different things to take to the backside of the bridge, where she had a small tent. As she began to walk toward the tent, I jumped up to follow her. There was no way was I staying out here alone in the dark again. She went in the tent with me right on her heals.
She took the blankets out and laid them on the floor of the tent. I was so excited; it felt like we were on a camping trip. She had a big flashlight she would turn upside down for light. She zipped us up in the tent, closing us out from anything on the outside. I felt safe inside. In that quiet moment as I lay there, many questions and thoughts raced through my mind. There were so many unanswered questions that I wanted to know the answers to.
I knew I was not going to get any answers tonight, so I closed my eyes and fell asleep. As I slept, I began to dream I was lost, alone, and running. I could not find my mother anywhere. I saw many children with their mothers, but I could not find mine. I was all alone in my dream crying. I must have awoken the woman crying in my sleep. When I woke, she had her arms around me just as a mother would. Even if she was not my mom, I clung on to her that moment as if she were. I was so afraid, and to have someone with me at that moment made a big difference. She laid me back on the blanket, covered me once again, and kept her arm around me. She began humming a little tune to comfort me. It was the most beautiful sound my ears ever heard. She continued humming it in a low tone; it was beautiful. She never once looked down at me. I tried my hardest not to move, thinking if I moved she would stop humming. I lay as still as I could and listened to the beautiful sound coming from her voice. My eyes began to get heavy, even as I tried with all my might to keep them open. Sometime, while listening to the beautiful sound of her soothing voice, I drifted off to a peaceful sleep.