Happy Mothers Day
As far
back as the 1600s, there was a day called
"Mothering Sunday" when servants in
England were given the day off to spend with
their Mothers. In 1914, President Woodrow Wilson
declared the second Sunday in May to be a
nationally observed "Mother's Day" in
the United States. Throughout the world their are
many countries that honor Mothers on similar
days,
Tradition holds
that Mothers Day is a day for people to express
their appreciation for the things their Mothers
have done for them. Carnations are traditionally
given to Mothers, as they symbolize sweetness and
endurance.
|
"Of all
the rights of women, the greatest is to be a
mother."
-- Lin Yutang
Mother is
another word for Love!!
What
is a Mother?
A mother is
someone to shelter and guide us,
To love us,
whatever we do,
With a warm
understanding and infinite patience
And wonderful
gentleness, too.
How often a
mother means swift reassurance
In soothing our
small, childish fears,
How tenderly
mothers watch over their children
And treasure
them all through the years!
The heart of a
mother is full of forgiveness
For any
mistake, big or small,
And generous
always in helping her family,
Whose needs she
has placed above all.
A mother can
utter a word of compassion
And make all
our cares fall away,
She can
brighten a home with the sound of her laughter
And make life
delightful and gay.
A mother
possesses incredible wisdom
And wonderful
insight and skill -
In each human
heart is that one special corner
Which only a
mother can fill!
Katherine
Nelson Davis
|
"The
most important thing a father can do for his children is
to love their mother."
--Author Unknown
"God
could not be everywhere and therefore he made
mothers."
-- Jewish proverb
A mother
understands what a child does not say.
Jewish Proverb
Let Your Mom
know she is special...... Tell her you love her....and
most of all Thank God for her!!!
Happy Mothers Day to My
Mom and My Mother in Law Pattie at
Pattie's
Porch
We Love you !!!!!!
Mother
Hood!!!
Time is running
our for my friend. We are sitting at lunch when
she
casually mentions that she and her
husband are thinking of "starting a
family". What she means is that
her biological clock is ticking and has
begun its final countdown
"We're
taking a survey," she says, half joking.
"Do you think I should
have a
baby?"
"It
will change your life," I say carefully,
keeping my tone neutral
"I
know," she says, "no more sleeping in
on the weekend, no more
spontaneous vacations..."
But that is
not what I meant at all. I look at my friend,
trying to
decide what to tell her. I want her
to know what she will never learn in
childbirth classes. I want to tell
her that the physical wounds of
childbearing heal, but that becoming
a mother will leave her with an
emotional wound so raw that she will
be forever vulnerable.
I consider
warning her that she will never read a newspaper
again
without asking "What if that
had been MY child?" That every plane crash,
every fire will haunt her. That when
she sees pictures of starving children,
she will wonder if anything could be
worse than watching your child die.
I look at
her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit
and think
that no matter how sophisticated she
is, becoming a mother will reduce
her to the primitive level of a bear
protecting her cub. That an urgent call of
"Mom!" will cause her to
drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a
moment's hesitation.
I feel I
should warn her that no matter how many years she
has
invested in her career, she will be
professionally derailed by motherhood.
She might arrange for child care,
but one day she will be going into an
important business meeting and she
will think about her baby's sweet smell.
She will have to use every ounce of
her discipline to keep from running home,
just to make sure her baby is all
right.
I want my
friend to know that everyday decisions will no
longer be
routine. That a five year old boy's
desire to go to the men's room rather
than the women's at McDonalds will
become a major dilemma. That right
there, in the midst of clattering
trays and screaming children, issues of
independence and gender identity
will be weighed against the prospect
that a child molester may be lurking
in that restroom. However decisive
she may be at the office, she will
second-guess herself constantly as a
mother.
Looking at
my attractive friend, I want to assure her that
eventually
she will shed the lbs of pregnancy,
but she will never feel the same about
herself. That her life, now so
important, will be of less value to her
once she has a child. That she would
give it up in a moment to save her
offspring, but will also begin to
hope for more years - not to accomplish her
own dreams, but to watch her child
accomplish theirs. I want her to know that
a cesarean scar or shiny stretch
marks will become badges of honor.
My friend's
relationship with her husband will change, but
not in the
ways she thinks. I wish she could
understand how much more you can love a
man who is always careful to powder
the baby or never hesitates to play with
his child. I think she should know
that she will fall in love with him again
for reasons she would now find very
unromantic.
I wish my
friend could sense the bond she'll feel with
women
throughout history who have tried
desperately to stop war and prejudice
and drunk driving. I hope she will
understand why I can think rationally
about most issues, but become
temporarily insane when I discuss the
threat of nuclear war to my
children's future.
I want to
describe to my friend the exhilaration of seeing
your child
learn to ride a bike. I want to
capture for her the belly laugh of a baby
who is touching the soft fur of a
dog or cat for the first time. I want her
to taste the joy that is so real, it
actually hurts.
My friend's
quizzical look makes me realize that tears have
fomed in
my eyes.
"You'll
never regret it," I say finally. Then I
reach across the
table, squeeze my friend's hand, and
offer a silent prayer for her, and forme,
and for all of the mere mortal women
who stumble their way into this most
wonderful of callings.
the blessed gift of God and that of being a
Mother
|
Please read the The Joys of
Motherhood
e-mail:
wpettit@adelphia.net
|