My Dusty Soul

Their mother dreamed of better things for her little girls in this life She wanted more, than to be poor as an abusers little wife

I traveled west to the sunset

where the desert begins to roast

the heat baked down, on every town

across the plain onto the coast

I came upon an old Buick

a woman two children in curls

Their dreams stranded, their car branded

a look of sorrow on the girls

 

I pulled my pickup in behind

walked to the window said "hello"

Offered a ride, "its cool inside

come with me and we'll find a tow"

At first they wouldn't come along

choosing instead to stay and bake

"We'll have to stay, cause I can't pay

I think this trip was a mistake"

 

 

The girls were all of ten years old

their pain had tested their belief

Innocent pawns, of sun-baked bronze

whose pleading eyes begged for relief

I saw in them the Grapes of Wrath

headed west on little money

relief from strife, a better life

in the land of milk and honey

 

I took them ten miles down the road

an oasis like a mirage

A bit of luck, found a tow truck

had the car towed to the garage

We shared a lunch that afternoon

their radiator was repaired

I'd eased their trials, restored their smiles

it felt good to know I had cared.

 

Their mother dreamed of better things

for her little girls in this life

She wanted more, than to live poor

as an abusers little wife

 I never gave the girl my name

fighting against my vanity

Theirs was a goal, that saved my soul

sharing with them humanity

Author's Note

It was 1998. I was crossing the western dessert to the coast. I remember this woman and her two little girls. How scared they were to be on the road alone and broke down. The sun was so relentless that day. I was on a trip to southern California to deliver a box to the docks. I had a hard time convincing them to go with me. I paid the mechanic to fix the car and gave the woman money for gas. The little girls so like my own. The mechanic brought their car around. The girls were drinking pop on the bench outside the diner, awash in smiles as I drove off toward the setting sun. I know they thought that I had been a godsend. What they didn't know was that they had given me much more than I did them. I found my thoughts drifting back to my own children and thinking of how blessed I was.

Reviews

[Fabian G. Franklin]

I liked this. We just never know when or where we are going to need a helping hand so it's always good to lend one when we can. These days folks are just as scared someone trying to help might be a mass murdering lunatic. When I was a kid I remember waving at complete strangers driving down the road and they waved back. We left our doors unlocked at night and kids could go out walking alone without fear. The world gets a little crazier every day I think. Great piece here Tate.

[Tate Morgan]

Fabian always a treasure to see you here. You lend a lot of class to this place. I know the world has changed. However I refuse to go through life afraid. thank you

[Kenneth The Poet]

A great write. That is all I can say.

[Tate Morgan]

thank you Ken i have missed you

[MomzillaNC]

Lovely. The wealth we gain in helping others cannot be measured in coin. And the lessons you left those little girls with of how they should expect men to be are beyond price.

[Tate Morgan]

Thank you Mom I would expect nothing less of any good man . Children should know men are innately good and within us the desire to make the lives of others better

[MomzillaNC]

Absolutely. It's especially critical that our little girls grow up knowing there are good men in the world and that they deserve to be treated with respect and dignity by all the men in their lives.

[J. K. Beach]

Your poem's beginning is as haunting as the photo--Dorothea Lange... "Migrant Mother," 1936--you feature, but there is hope for the haunted in the kindness of strangers. The thought was inspired, the act simple and kind, and the memory lasting--for giver as well as receiver, I'm sure. And, here, all this beautifully captured by your words. Very moving stuff!

[Tate Morgan]

Thank you J>K> I remember it as if yesterday the heat the isolation the wind whipped plains of the Mohave

[Patricia Wedel]

dear Tate... I love your story.
I understand how they gave you
so much more in return. We are
rich when we help others.
truly... Pat

[Tate Morgan]

thank you so much pat

[minisla]

Everyone needs the help of others and acts of kindness at some stage of their lives. All learn valuable lessons when offering or receiving the help of others. Very touching and the fact that you realized there is only a certain amount one can offer without infringing on the paths we all must travel. She was doing the right thing as you were also.

[wordwarrior]

Such a sad poem Tate and one that we read about all too often these days. I love your 4th verse. It's always so much better to give than to receive and you showed your humility by not giving your name.
I hope you are the person who has restored some faith in humanity for them.
Excellent writing Tate!

[Brandon S. Whitten]

An amazing spirit of who we can be shines through and squeezes a tear from my grateful heart that people like you are here in this world in need of love. Splendid read and write. Thank you for sharing.

[Tate Morgan]

Hello Brandon thank you. I often wonder if the little girls are laying on a beach in California? I imagine they are married and at times think back on that day. It is such a simple thing to leave a feeling of security to others. Not everyone is a killer in this world. Once I remember a bunch of bikers coming to the track we were racing at. The parties went on and on. Then my mothers little puppy went missing. I couldn't help think they had taken it. That afternoon one of them came over with the dog. He handed it to me and said. "People get the wrong idea about us. We don't steal." I never forgot that.

[Brandon S. Whitten]

My pleasure.

[AmandaN]

So strong,as usual Tate.
The imagery so powerful that I could feel the heat and my lips dried out reading it!
Wonderful to read of help and happiness bouncing from you to them and back again.
Great!
Thanks.

[Tate Morgan]

hi Amanda thank you dear

[Frieda P]

Moving story within your poetry Tate, always good for one's own soul to give gratuitously to those less fortunate. Good read.

[Tate Morgan]

Hi frieda So nice to hear from you . I am sorry I havent been on lately Family stuff Ill get back to it