I had intended to write about my mother on Mother's Day so I am three weeks slow! Mom has always been one of the happiest, most pleasant, kindest individuals that I have ever known. Her wonderful disposition made our home happy. I was either in college or medical school before it ever dawned on me, "I wonder if Mom ever gets sad or discouraged?" She so loved, honored, enjoyed our dad and her three daughters. As a little girl I recall thinking, "Mommy doesn't have to belong to ladies' clubs, because she says that we are her best friends!" That reality gave me such security. She was such a hard, efficient worker--raising a family, teaching school, farming with my dad in the summer. About the only time that she ever sat down was at meal time at that wasn't for long. She hardly ever watched TV--in fact, she wasn't even certain how to turn on the television (what a blessing!). Mom taught us the joy of celebrating even the simple events of life. She seldom spent any money on herself--what she earned went for her family and the farm. She was so easy to talk to and always knew just what to say (or not say!). She would sing funny little songs and pretend that she was the "floppy woppy doll". We would laugh until we would cry. She took good care of herself--she would jog, ride her bike, jump rope--I could never keep up with her in jogging. She was so unpretentious--she couldn't tell if a car was fancy or inexpensive (nor did it matter to her)--she thought cars were the same if they were the same color!
Most of all Mom loved Jesus and His Presence in her life accomplished so much of the above. The following poem was one that I read in August 1970 just before I started college. I was so homesick and included it in my mother's birthday card. Through these many years, this was often the poem that I would include in her Mother's Day and birthday cards.
MOTHER
Never a sigh for the cares that she bore for me,
Never a thought of the joys that flew by;
Her one regret that she couldn't do more for me,
Thoughtless and selfish, her master was I.
Oh, the long nights that she came at my call to me!
Oh, the soft touch of her hands on my brow!
Oh, the long years that she gave up her all to me!
Oh, how I yearn for her gentleness now!
Slave to her baby! Yes, that was the way of her,
Counting her greatest of servies small;
Words cannot tell what my heart would say of her,
Mother--the sweetest and fairest of all.
By Edgar Guest
Everyday of my life I continue to be blessed because of my mother. Thank you, Mom! I love and admire you with all my heart. Marilee
