She was a beautiful woman. Her motley eyes could just bore every man that looked at her. Their green olive nuance that reflected from her chestnut colored eyes was so intense that no one could really tell if they were looking into a thick forest or the bottom of an ocean.

   Her warm heart radiated so much elegance and charisma. But at the same time she was just that down to earth 27 years old girl that had the ambitions of becoming a proud associate at the KFG – Architects, a Danish firm that designed and built dozens of social housings and projects for people living in dangerous and problematic circumstances. By working alongside with the people - talking, listening and understanding their sad stories, the company was aiming to resolve the unfair social situations caused mostly by poverty and insecurity.

   Kezaya was just leaving the grocery store, where she bought the usual bag of bananas, milk and oatmeal, the most inexpensive but healthy choice of ingredients for her breakfast for the last 6 years. In her life she always had to be very economical. The struggle for sufficient income was one of the things that have always brought tears to Kezaya’s eyes. No one could see her tears, but they could cut wounds so deep, straight into her heart, to the point, where she could just start screaming till all of the pain got scared and left her fragile and delicate body. But she really knew how to hide these intense emotions and to control herself. For the last years she had learned the real value of what life is all about and had a plan to change a lot with her work so that other people could have the possibilities that they deserved.

   While she was walking down 9^th Ave.  with the paper bag in one hand and supporting the bag with the other, someone stroke her tight. Or at least that’s what she felt, when a little boy tried to stop her with obvious worry in his eyes in the chaotic sidewalk of the frantic 9^th avenue. She looked at him with a warm smile that just in a second transformed into a genuine care after seeing his wet eyes.

        - I lost my mommy… can you help me find my mommy… I lost her, and now I can’t find her…

        - Oh, sweety! Come here! – she kneeled down and put her hand on his shoulder, while her paper bag was still in the other hand. She felt an overwhelming emotion when she looked at his scared eyes. She felt thousands of goosebumps spreading through her body and her pulse accelerated so that she could feel it in her throat. She was aware that she must stay calm and continue with her soft voice, knowing that it was calming the little boy, that was looking for his lost parent. – Where did you last see your mother?

        - Over there, in the toy store. I wanted this truck right here, but then I lost her. I lost her… one minute ago she was next to me and then she was gone. Please help me find her!

   Kezaya heaved a sigh of relief because she knew that his mother is maybe still in the store – most likely paying the toy. Those accidents were no surprise in a city like this, where there were so many people and the chaos was so unbearable. She then took the boy’s hand in hers. She stood up and led the boy back to the store. Kezaya spoke again gently:

        - Are you seeing your mommy now? Maybe over there where the cash desk is!

   A sudden scream of joy made Kezaya nearly jump in her spot.

        - There she is…. Mommy! Mommy! Mommy! – he screamed, while running toward a woman, wearing black leather jacket. The lady looked very well dressed and her silhouette looked kind of familiar to Kezaya and she suddenly felt strange overwhelming feeling. But at the same time Kezaya felt happiness, seeing the boy running and grabbing in a hug the woman’s legs, while she was still hectically talking to the cashier obviously in a search for her lost child.

   After hearing the screaming voice the woman turned around, her look was still blurry. She kneeled and hugged her son so hard after his throwing himself at her. Both of them were crying tears of joy.

Kezaya stood there – in her spot. She couldn’t move. Her heart was speeding like a racing car. Her face turned white and she starred at the lady in the black leather jacket who was hugging her son. Now standing up the woman was carrying the boy in her warm embrace, and was slowly walking toward the door of the store on her way out. She was looking Kezaya straight into her eyes and Kezaya was doing the same without blinking. She was still standing in her spot. Her body was slightly turning around, while following the woman’s eyes, which were slowly moving away from her.

        - Thank you!

   Kezaya almost didn’t hear the gentle and sincere words that the lady said to her while nodding her head as a mark of gratefulness and respect. The woman walked by holding her son. His chin was laying on her shoulder and his arms and legs were hanging along her body.  The only thing that Kezaya could now see were the wet eyes of the little boy, now starring right at Kezaya’s face with relief, joy and warmth.  That beautiful motley eyes, with that olive green fragrant in his otherwise dark chestnut colored eyes.

   That was Kezaya’s son. The one she left for adoption in the maternity ward six years ago, a couple of months after the sudden death of her boyfriend, the father of her unborn son, the only man that she had ever loved. He was killed one night on his way home from the grocery store from a gang that did drugs. Desperate for 10$ they stabbed him in the stomach, because he didn’t have any money on him, but some salad and tomatoes in a bag.

   Kezaya and her “man” have never had stable incomes because they were studying at the time, but they always managed and they always had their spirits lifted. They were young and the world was theirs. They had a plan for raising their child and they knew that they will get through it, because they were just so strong when they were together. Their lives were about to change for the better. But after that cold, lonely night Kezaya knew she had to give her baby for adoption, so that she could save it from the poverty and fear she lived in growing up. The financially unstable environment, always trying to save up money to get out of that god forsaken city she then was living in, was something that she wanted to save her unborn child from.

   “What could have happened with our lives if he had had those 10$?”- question that Kezaya have asked herself every day for the last 6 years.

   And the only thing that she now had was the motley look of that wet beautiful boy’s eyes that drifted more and more away in the din of the city and the ambition to work toward the future that will give the people the safety of living their happy little lives.