Everyday Hero

Every morning, she wakes up with the hope of making her life better than it was yesterday. She opens her eyes and looks at the line of little bodies sleeping snuggled against each other.
She moves about in the kitchen preparing their meals and leaves for work for the day. Every house she goes too, she is greeted by a mountain of dirty dishes to clean, ambushed by tonnes of clothes to launder along with sweeping and cleaning the household. She keeps going at it like a woman possessed. Each time she almost gives up, she can picturise those tiny hands which expect food in their little tummies and she gets a new urge to get better and work again.

Life never was easy for her. She was brought up in a poorer home than hers. Raised to get married right after she reached puberty. A husband and children before she turned twenty. He had left her to spend the rest of his life in a drunken stupor. Here she was, barely a woman and she was responsible for lives. Without an education she could only opt for working as a maid. Sometimes when she had the time she worked for the City Crew which swept the streets in the middle of the night.

She got home late in the evening. Teaching her eldest to look after her younger children was only one of her little blessings. She refused to give her children a life that she had had. She will make sure each of her little ones gets an education, strives to save each rupee so her children can have everything that she did not. After dinner, she leaves home to join the City Crew. As she walks along the dusty streets she smiles. Glad, that she can hold her head high. Triumphant she is, her own hero.

Propmt from Writer's Island- Triumph.