We can have a day to celebrate mothers but who or what is a Mother? Again I got to the Encyclopedia of 15,000 Illustrations
MOTHER is the one who rises up from sleep to soothe the cries from the crib, who sits besides the bed with cool hand upon small, feverish brow. Mother is the one who sews, scrubs, cooks, irons, patches, mops, but somehow still has time for your every problem, no matter how great, no matter how small.
Mother is the one who sings that forever remembered lullaby. Although her voice may crack and creak, although she may sharp the naturals and natural the flats, to a child and to childhood memories the song of mother is the song of the angels.
Mother is the one who bandages skinned knees and stubbed toes, who can kiss the pain away and say just the right consoling word that makes everything all right. Mother is the one who sits in the pew and with memories crowding in will smile a little and cry a little as she hears the words intoned, "to love and cherish 'til death do us part."
Mother is the one who, as grandmother, will spoil your children because she loves them so deeply and because in them she sees another you. Mother is the one who will do the most for you and in return ask the least. Her hope never fadeth. No matter how far away you are, no matter how often you have neglected her, she is always there to do whatever you ask in the same way she has always done: her best for you.
Mother is the one for whom you must finally pluck the white rose and tenderly pin it to your heart. Life is never the same without her. You never become accustomed to the absence of her presence. She should call or write, but she does not. That which you took for granted for so long is no longer granted you. A part of the best of Earth has slipped away, and you miss her dreadfully.
But you are not alone without her. Look inside you. Count the best things in your life: character, love, unselfishness, forgiveness, kindness, gentleness. They were all planted by that tender hand so long ago, the hand of that wonderful woman who cuddled you and held you and said, "This is my child."
J. Emmett Henderson
Dear Lord, Thank you
- For my mother