"It is very difficult to be a mother in Cuba": Message from priest Alberto Reyes on Mother's Day

The priest Alberto Reyes Pías shared a deep and moving reflection on Facebook to commemorate Mother's Day, in which he highlighted the numerous challenges that Cuban mothers face today in a country marked by emigration, scarcity, and repression.

In a text that appeals to sensitivity, Reyes described with rawness and humanity how Mother's Day, traditionally a day of gathering and celebration, has become for many Cuban women a day of pain, distance, and struggle.

"Mother's Day is also the day when we realize how difficult it is to experience the gift of motherhood in our land," she stated.

"It is difficult due to the physical absence of so many children who have emigrated," she recalled, referring to the growing phenomenon of mothers separated from their children, often forever, because of the crisis the country is experiencing.

The Camagüey parish priest emphasized the economic precariousness that affects family life: "It's difficult due to the efforts to try to put the best on the table."

One of the most powerful parts of his message addresses the mothers of political prisoners: "It is difficult for those whose children have joined the long list of political prisoners," and he emphasized that they are "the children whom 'the homeland proudly observes,' because they had the courage to take to the streets to claim the rights of all."

With phrases that resonate in thousands of Cuban households, Reyes highlighted the helplessness that many mothers feel when they cannot meet their children's most basic needs: "It is very difficult, it is very hard for a mother to tell her child: 'I have no money, I can't give you what you need, I can't even feed you.'"

Her reflection not only honors the maternal figure but also serves as a stark portrait of present-day Cuba, where being a mother is, often, an act of resistance.

In his message, Reyes Pías leaves no room for doubt: in pain and adversity, Cuban mothers stand tall, present, fighting for love and dignity.

Next, CiberCuba shares the full text of the publication:

I have been thinking… (111) by Alberto Reyes Pías

I have been thinking about how difficult it is to be a mother in Cuba

Mother's Day is approaching, a celebration so dear to the soul of our people. It is the day when Cubans try to reconnect with their mothers, if they are still alive, or visit the cemetery if they have passed away. It is also the day when we realize how challenging it is to experience the gift of motherhood in our land.

It is difficult due to the physical absence of so many children who emigrated in search of a horizon that they could not find here, in their own homeland. Mothers who will have only a phone call or, if they are lucky and there is coverage, a video call, a virtual hug, a kiss through social networks, all wrapped in the nostalgia of a forced separation that for many is eternal, because their children will never return, and they will never manage to go live with them.

It's difficult due to the efforts to try to put the best on the table, and to momentarily forget the daily struggle for our daily bread, and for those things that are not bread and that either do not appear at all or show up at an inflated price.

It is difficult because the gifts they receive from their children do not prevent them from remembering that there is so much to find in order to provide for them: clothing, shoes, uniforms, backpacks... and a long etcetera of things that have stopped being normal here, turning into nightmares.

It is difficult due to the challenge of trying to educate children in eternal values amidst a society that is falling apart, where anything goes as long as it means survival.

It is difficult for those whose children have been added to the long list of political prisoners, those beloved children before whom one tries not to cry, not to collapse, because they are the children whom "the homeland gazes upon with pride," as they had the courage to take to the streets to demand the rights of all.

It is difficult for mothers whose children are not imprisoned but have chosen not to submit to the tyranny of this system, and who are able to raise their voices and express the feelings of an entire people, while the mothers grapple with pride and fear, torn between the temptation to ask them for silence in exchange for submerging them in slavery, and the boldness to support them, to encourage them to be free and to fight for the freedom of this land, while the fear of seeing them behind bars eats away at them inside and robs them of sleep.

It is very difficult, it is very hard for a mother to tell her child: "I have no money, I cannot give you what you need, I can't even feed you, I can't even provide you with medicine." It is tough to tell a child: "Go, save yourself, get out of here and find another life, and don’t come back." It is hard to tell an incarcerated child: "I am proud of you," with a steady gaze and a lump in her throat. It is difficult to tell God: "Protect my child, because those he is up against could harm him."

And yet, there is something that remains beautiful, which is that amidst all this, there is a message that repeats itself, purifying again and again the essence of being a mother: 'I am here. In the midst of hunger, precariousness, pain, loneliness, helplessness... I am here with you, and I will always be, until the last of my days.'

Frequently Asked Questions about Motherhood in Cuba and the Message from Father Alberto Reyes