Elizabeth Barsham
Mother's Worry

In 1923 the pupils of Woodstock School lined up to have their photograph taken. I wondered what their mothers thought of the result. Here is the result of my wondering.

Mother dreamed of an electric stove (chopping firewood) and electric light (trimming the wick on a smoking lamp).

Mother dreamed of a motorcar (trudging home from Huonville with bags and baby).

Mother dreamed of new clothes for her children (cutting down a stranger’s cast-off suit, turning up a handed-down dress).

Mother dreamed of a big, warm house (flapping canvas at the unglazed window, two-children-to-a-bed, all in one room).

Mother dreamed of a real, flushing lavatory (spreading ashes in the earth closet to discourage flies) and hot water from a tap (poking damp kindling under the copper) and - well - water (tapping the rungs of an almost-empty tank).

Mother dreamed of fresh fruit all year round, of rumpsteak, roast chicken, spring lamb (mutton and potatoes and  jam rolypoly again).

Mother prayed that Baby only had a cold (the Whooping Cough took her oldest).

Mother didn’t worry about loss of biodiversity, peak oil, environmental degradation, global warming, overpopulation or cholesterol. She didn’t have a weight problem, she expected to live to sixty, and she just wanted her children to learn enough at school to make a better life for themselves.

They did.

Some of these children are alive today. One may be your grandmother or grandfather.

What do you dream of?