land

from Fragments

Gabby lived with her landless family on a farm in a neighboring village. 

Her weathered father was a campesino, with wrinkles on his face for all the times he walked down endless rows of beans in the hot sun to hoe away the weeds. 

There was kindness in his eyes that welled up from the deep feelings he felt as he worked to keep his family alive. 

His hands and feet were calloused and gnarled, for they had been blistered, broken and used as tools all of his life. 

He worked from the time he toddled beside his father and workers on the plantation until now.

He worked the same land his father worked, the land of the wealthy owners.

He worked until his back was bent.

It appeared as if he were continually genuflecting to God, or to the wealthy, or to the land itself. 

Maybe they were the same things.

Hopefully, they weren’t.

She observed life, for she was a tough and tender girl who saw deeply into the hearts of people.

She knew, simply knew, the inner workings of their lives.

She saw her father’s hands and feet.

She heard his heart.

He was silent, yet he spoke eloquently.

“I am a human being. 

No person is better than another. 

We have a right to food, shelter, clothing, school, and medicine. 

We are human beings.

We are.”

Those words grew inside of her as if they were seeds planted in good soil.

They were warmed by the laughter she laughed with her compañeros.

They were watered by the tears she cried from a hungry belly.

They were.