“Mum, it’s us… your sons… Mum…” She Looked Up at Them Anna and Robert had lived in poverty all their lives. Once young and in love, Anna had dreamed of a bright future, but reality was harsh. Robert worked hard but earned little, and after Anna became pregnant, they welcomed three sons in quick succession. Anna hadn’t worked for years, and Robert’s small salary barely covered the family’s basic needs. As the years passed, the strain and poverty mounted. Robert started drinking, bringing home his wages but returning drunk each day, leaving Anna heartbroken and weary. One day, unable to take it any longer, Anna snatched the bottle from him and took a drink herself. Soon, drinking together became their daily escape. Anna forgot her children—neglected and hungry, her boys began begging for food around the village while neighbours whispered about how vodka had changed her. Eventually, a neighbour confronted her, and the heartbreak drove Anna and Robert to leave their children in an orphanage, where the boys cry for parents who never visit or remember them. Years later, after leaving the orphanage for their own small flats, the brothers—who always supported each other—decide to find their mother, yearning for understanding and closure. They drive back to their childhood home and spot their mother on her way home, who passes without a glance. “Mum, it’s us… your sons… Mum…” She looks up at them with hollow eyes, then recognition dawns. She breaks down in tears and begs for forgiveness. The brothers, unsure at first, ultimately decide that no matter what, she is their mother—and they forgive her.

“Mother, its us your children Mother” She looked up at them.

Mary and Edward had known hardship for as long as anyone could remember. Mary had long lost hope for happiness or a comfortable life. Once, when she was young and in love, shed dreamed of bright days to come. But life unfolded far from the future she had imagined. Edward worked himself ragged, yet wages were always meagre. To add to their burdens, Mary fell pregnant. Three sons were born in quick succession. After that, Mary never had a proper job again. Edward’s earnings barely stretched far enough. The children grew, and with them grew the need for shoes, coats, and all that children must have.

Nearly all of their money went to food on the table. There were bills to mind, coal to buy, and a roof to keep over their heads. Twelve years of scraping by left clear marks on the family. Edward turned to the bottle. Though he brought his pay home, he stumbled through the door drunk each night. Marys heart grew heavy with bitterness for the life they lived. One evening, Edward arrived swaying, clutching half a bottle of gin. Mary suddenly couldnt bear it any longer; she snatched the bottle and finished it off herself. From that night, she too began to drink.

For a while, life felt easier. Troubles seemed distant. At times, an odd cheerfulness would rise in her. Soon, she found herself waiting each day for Edwards return with another bottle. They drank together.

Mary forgot her boys. The neighbours in the village whispered about what gin could do to a person. Before long, the lads were seen begging around for scraps to eat. One day, a neighbour, no longer able to keep quiet, said,

Mary, youd be better off sending them to the orphanage than letting them starve. How long can you lose yourself in drink and not think of your own children?

Mary never forgot those wordsthey haunted her. Sometimes she wondered if things would be simpler had the boys not been about. In the end, she and Edward abandoned the children. The boys were taken to a home. They wept, hoping their mother or father might come, but no one ever did. Mary and Edward scarcely remembered they even had sons.

So the years passed. One after another, the boys grew up and left the orphanage. They received small bedsits from the councilbare, but a roof at least. All took up honest work. They always looked out for one another. Of their parents, they rarely spoke, yet a silent longing remainedthey wished to see them, to ask why.

One day, the brothers gathered, climbed into a worn motorcar, and drove back to the village. On the lane to the cottage, they spotted their motherthey barely recognised her, shuffling slowly, aged beyond her years. She passed by them with barely a glance.

Mother, its us your sons Mother

She turned, first blank, then suddenly knowing. Tears started down her cheeks, and she begged forgiveness. Yet how can anyone be forgiven for such a thing? The brothers stood silent, at a loss for words. At last, they decided, no matter what had happened, she was still their mother. And so, they forgave.