Her Only Children
Her own childhood seemed so far away on nights like these, when she comforted the little master. Soon he would leave the nursery and she would be sent back to the kitchen or be forced to find another position. She couldn’t find it on her to regret the choices she had made.
She’d never thought when she was a child that this would be her lot in life; to raise the children of others. She had accepted it though and no longer yearned for her own babes. The children that she guided to adulthood were hers, even if they were not fruit of her body.
She’d watched them, raised them, loved them. It mattered not who they belonged to in name, in all ways that counted, she was the one who watched them come of age. They were hers, for better or worse.
Word count: 143