I saw your image in one of the best museums in the world. You didn’t look happy, but I was happy to see you. I am sure your world had been turned upside down because you wouldn’t even look up in your pose. It is as if you said I will do this job but I won’t be proud. I won’t show you how much this has hurt me.
He painted your image fully dressed standing behind a table surrounded by your work utensils, bowls and pitchers. Some title this image the Kitchen Scene, not even admitting that there is a person in it, while others call it the Kitchen Maid, or La Mulata, La Cocinera. They should call it, You Stole My Life Now You Want Me To Cook
It was 1618 and you had probably been ripped from your home and all you knew. You wondered if you would ever see your family or homeland again. You probably didn’t.
I am grateful that you existed and fought that end of the battle for me. I will tell your stories and remind our people of the sacrifice you made.
And I thank God for you and that He had someone paint you to remind us of all you missed out on like having your family near. Like when you are having a bad day at work and there is no one to complain to. Like being able to quit your job and go work for someone who respects you. Like being able to do what you were created to do. The simple things we take for granted and consider them a right when they are really a gift from God.
When the man was painting your image, it was probably irritating, but it left a beacon of light for us 400 years later. I am grateful.