My Mother

This mother’s day brings to mind lines from a childhood rhyme by Ann Taylor

Who sat and watched my infant head,

When sleeping in my cradle bed,

And tears of sweet affection shed?

My Mother.

When pain and sickness made me cry,

Who gazed upon my heavy eye,

And wept for fear that I should die?

My Mother.

 I have no recollection of my cradle bed (if I had any)

But I certainly remember many nights I lay on the bed sick with malaria fever

My mother kept the night watch with me, mopping my burning skin with a wet towel 
Praying that God should take away my sickness and my pain.

The greater part of my growing up years were done in a single mother household.  My father was an "absentee father" not by choice, but because the cold hands of death snatched him away before he could really get to know or shape the lives of the two jewels he birthed. My mother made up for the absence of a father's love by showering us with more than a double portion of parental love and attention. It is a miracle that we did not grow up as "spoiled" adults

Who dress’d my doll in clothes so gay,

And taught me pretty how to play.

And minded all I had to say?

My Mother.

Many happy memories from my growing years center around family time and bonding in the congested rented apartment where we lived. I remember vividly how my mother and my younger brother along with cousins, who were just like sisters to me, would play “house" when we had nothing better to do.

They would tease me to dress up pregnant.  My creativity came in to play as I rolled up a piece of African fabric, a pillow, or whatever I could find to represent the mound. Then we will all giggle and laugh silly as I received compliments on how well pregnancy suited me! I must have caught a wistful look on Mummy's face as she contemplated thoughts of her grandchildren. In all of those scenarios, never once did being pregnant out of wedlock cross my mind. Indeed, I saw in my future a happily married woman expecting to bring forth the seed of marital consummation.  Today I am married, I’m a mother, and I am happy, all praise to God! Mommy, you shaped my dreams, God made them come true!

Who taught my infant lips to pray,

And love God’s holy book and day.

And walk in Wisdom’s pleasant way?

My Mother.

Our troubles drove us to God, our fears brought God so near

It was in your house I saw my first miracle, and then another, and yet another

When many a mother would have pawned their daughters for gain

You turned our hearts Godward, we sang and prayed until God sent us rain!

You told me I was beautiful before any boy ever had the chance to sweep my feet away

With pride and gratefulness, you celebrated me in ways I never knew a mother could

Your Godly wisdom and good counsel have played their part in the woman I am today.

Mommy, when I think of love, I think of you.

Your love is patient, your love is kind.

Self-sacrifice is nothing to you.

And can I ever cease to be

Affectionate and kind to thee,

Who was so very kind to me?

My Mother.

When thou art feeble, old, and gray,

My healthy arm shall be thy stay,

And I will soothe thy pains away,

My Mother.

Happy Mothers Day to Mothers all around the world! If you have a mother or one that has been a mother to you, this is what the scripture has to say;

"Honor her for all that her hands have done, and let her works bring her praise at the city gate." (Proverbs 31:31)