mothers

[Guest guest]

pass the hankies! That got me, thx lois.

Lois wrote:

Mothers

The young mother

set her foot on the path of life. "Is this the long

way?" she asked.

And the guide

said: "Yes, and the way is hard. And you will be old before you reach the

end of it. But the end will be better than the beginning."

But the young

mother was happy, and she could not believe that

anything

could be better than these years.

So she played

with her children, and gathered flowers for them along the way, and bathed

them in the clear streams; and the sun shone on them, and the young Mother

cried, "Nothing will ever be lovelier than this."

Then the night

came, and the storm, and the path was dark, and the children shook with

fear and cold, and the mother drew them close and covered them with her

mantle, and the children said, "Mother, we are not afraid, for you are

near, and no harm can come."

And the morning

came, and there was a hill ahead, and the children climbed and grew weary,

and the mother was weary. But at all times she said to the children, "A

little patience and we are there." So the children climbed, and when they

reached the top they said, Mother, we would not have done it without you."

And the mother,

when she lay down at night looked up at the stars and said, "This is a

better day than the last, for my children have learned fortitude in the

face of hardness. Yesterday I gave them courage. Today, I have given them

strength."

And the next

day came strange clouds which darkened the earth, clouds of war and hate

and evil, and the children groped and stumbled, and the mother said: "Look

up. Lift your eyes to the light."

And the children

looked and saw above the clouds an everlasting glory, and it guided them

beyond the darkness.

And that night

the Mother said, "This is the best day of all, for I have shown my children

God."

And the days

went on, and the weeks and the months and the years, and the mother grew

old and she was little and bent.

But her children

were tall and strong, and walked with courage. And when the way was rough,

they lifted her, for she was as light as a feather; and at last they came

to a hill, and beyond they could see a shining road and golden gates flung

wide.

And mother

said: "I have reached the end of my journey. And now I know the end is

better than the beginning, for my children can walk alone, and their children

after them."

And the children

said, "You will always walk with us, Mother, even when you have gone through

the gates." And they stood and watched her as she went on alone, and the

gates closed after her. And they said: "We cannot see her, but she is with

us still.

A Mother like

ours is more than a memory. She is a living presence."

Your Mother

is always with you. She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the

street, she's the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks, she's

the cool hand on your brow when you're not well.

Your Mother

lives inside your laughter. And she's crystallized in

every tear

drop. She's the place you came from, your first home; and she's the map

you follow with every step you take. She's your first love and your first

heartbreak, and nothing on earth can separate you.. Not time, not space...not

even death!

[Guest guest]

Mothers

If you send this to just one person, it should make it all the way around the

world by Mother's Day.

This is for the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their

arms, wiping up barf laced with Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying,

" It's okay honey, Mommy's here. "

Who have sat in rocking chairs for hours on end so othing crying babies who

can't be comforted.

This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and

milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.

For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween

costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.

This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the

mothers who took those babies and gave them homes.

This is for the mothers whose priceless art collections are hanging on their

refrigerator doors.< /STRONG>

And for all the mothers who froze their buns on metal bleachers at football or

soccer games instead of watching from the warmth of their cars, so that when

their kids asked, " Did you see me, Mom? " they could say, " Of course, I wouldn't

have missed it for the world, " and mean it.

This is for all the mothers who yell at their kids in the grocery store and

swat them in despair when they stomp their feet and scream for ice cream before

dinner. And for all the mothers who count to ten instead, but realize how child

abuse happens.

This is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all

about making babies. And for all the (grand) mo thers who want ed to, but just

couldn't find the words.

This is for all the mothers who go hungry, so their children can eat. For all

the mothers who read " Goodnight, Moon " twice a night for a year. And then read

it again. " Just one more time. "

This is for all the mothers who taught their children to tie their shoelaces

before they started school. A ND for all the mothers who opted for Velcro

instead.

This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to

sink a jump shot.

This is for every mother whose head turns auto matically when a little voice

calls " Mom? " in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home

-- or even away at college.

This is for all the mothers who sent their kids to school with stomach aches

assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from

the school nurse an hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.

This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words

to reach them.

This is for all the step-mothers who raised another woman's child or children,

and gave their time, attention, and love... sometimes totally unappreciated!

For all the mothers who bite their lips until they bleed when their

14-year-olds dye their hair green.

For all the mothers of the victims of recent school shootings, and the mothers

of those who did the shooting.

For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs

in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.

This is for all the mothers who taught their children to be peaceful, and now

pray they come home safely from a war.

What makes a good Mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips?

The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at

the same time? Or is it in her heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch

your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the

very first time? The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib

at 2 A.M. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby? Th e panic, years

later, that comes again at 2 A.M. when you just want to hear their key in the

door and know they are safe again in your home? Or the need to flee from

wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a fire, a car

accident, a child dying?

The emotions of motherho od are universal and so our thoughts are for young

mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation...

And mature mothers learning to let go.

For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers.

Single mothers and married mothers.

Mothers with money, mothers without.

This is for you all.

For all of us.

Hang in there.

In the end we can only do the best we can.

Tell them every day that we love them.

And pray.

Please pass along to all the Moms in your life.

" Home is what catches you when you fall - and we all fall. "

We love you Mothers

Please pass this to a wonderful mother you know. (I just did.)

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