“You look at us old women, covered from head to toe in our tight headdresses and our long skirts, and you think we are like the nuns, afraid to show their bodies because it is a sin. But that is not so. It is because we understand nature's ways. We have lived long and deep in the bush with her. And she is a woman like us. My beauty is here now,' she said, pointing to her wrinkles and her breasts. 'There are birthmarks and then there are these. He-he. These are the marks of life. My face, just as it is, the map of my toils and joys, is as precious to me as your little waist and your rounded breasts are to you. This is testimony to the love I have given my family. There is not a mark here that is my own. It belongs to Baba va Tapiwa, Chipo, Farai, Tawona, and Ziyanai. It is a body of love. You see it as an old, dry, lifeless thing, but one day you will understand that each beauty has its season. The flaky, rough coconut protects the flesh and the sweet juices within. The body of youth knows its day and must live it to its fullest. The body of the harvest, too, has its time. That is mine. It is a body that has reaped and sown and gathered unto itself. Someday, too, will come the body of the earth, the final eternal one, which has no form or end, to which we must all return. I came to see you tonight, daughter, to tell you these words that my mother-in-law told me on my wedding night, ages ago, so that the wisdom of our ancestors may swell and ripen with each new bud that flowers. So our roots grow deeper and our words never die.” AgeingBeauty In Aging Book:Zenzele: A Letter for My Daughter Source: Zenzele: A Letter for My Daughter