Daughter — Sister — Wife — Mother

A quick swat on her wrist made her hand recoil from the plate. She watched as her mother picked up the ladle instead, scooping a hefty serving of stew for her father. As her mother went on to serve each of her siblings, she turned to look at her, shooting her a small glare to spark her into action. She sprung up, picking up the bowl of rice, and walked around the table, distributing it for the family. By the end, there was enough left for one more person. She shared it between herself and her mother. Her mother placed the last spoonful of stew onto her plate. They ate in silence, observed by the full moon outside.

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The moonlight crept into the laundry, illuminating the side of her face as she swept loose strands of hair out of her face with her arm. She did not know the time, nor did it matter. What mattered was that the stain left by the mud was out of the white school–shirt before morning came.

Her hands may have been raw from the rough surface of the scrubbing board, and she may have been shivering in the cold of the night, but all of this would be worth it when her son wore a clean uniform to school. With a soft sigh, she picked up the soap and continued.