Easter Eggery - Day 2

When It Rains, It Pours

It takes a village, so they say, to keep one soul alive.
Not a single pair - nay, but a crowd of hands to thrive.
A canola flower never blooms alone,
Always in fields of gold it’s grown.

A couple, young and inexperienced in life,
Started a family - for love, they believed, gave them the right.
With uncalloused hands, they strive to make ends meet,
Sheltered by in-laws, whose coldness they endure with grit.

But just as weather turns on a dime-
When it’s hot, it’s scorching.
When it rains, it pours.
So too, their welcome turned unsparing in time.

One room, one kitchen; monthly rent.
No deposit needed - this fresh start they'd been lent.
A thread of hope, the young man clung tight,
Striving to lead, to set things aright.

But time wore on; life moved slow.
The young mother longed to quickly grow-
A callous heart that could withstand any burn,
Yet here they are - still hurting, still burned.

She whispers to her man, “I can’t be the only one,
Is everyone growing up just fine?”
He smiled, worn but wise: “They wear a disguise-
Adulthood’s a play, and we all improvise.”

Before an empty rice jar, she stood,
With child in her womb, she walked as far as she could.
“Please, Grandma, I need some help,”
She cried - but was too proud to beg.

Like grass pressed down by typhoon winds,
They fell - but rose to try again.
Not by will alone, nor stubborn mind,
But lifted by hands that chose to be kind.

Summer lets nature grow lush,
Yet two-faced Summer struck them in a rush.
Their son who was with them at noon,
Was gone by the rising moon.

The father whose heart forged in iron and flame,
Now knelt, defeated, with none left to blame.
He wept as the storm unleashed its roar,
His tears like river - none mourned more.

Learning to love, to mother, to grow,
Life struck without mercy - blow after blow.
Why so ruthless, this trial by fire?
Must first-timers always wade through the mire?

But even as storms left their hearts torn and sore,
They were each other’s sunshine - and something more.
In time, they found amidst the pouring rain,
That crowd of hands had eased the pain.

Note: Scenes like this were common in Asian households during the 1950s to 1970s, especially among those who grew up in poverty, where education was seen as a luxury. While much has changed over time, one truth remains: healing isn’t always a solitary process - it’s often communal.