Especially for Mothers
 

How We Kept Mother's Day by Stephen Leacock Dear Reader: I have experienced enough disappointing Mother's Days to be able to relate totally and get a laugh out of this article found in a very old Reader's Digest. Guess life hasn't changed all that much! Hope it makes you smile, and furthermore, I hope those who love you make your Mother's Day special indeed! —DH One year our family decided to have a special celebration of Mother's Day, as a token of appreciation for all the sacrifices that Mother had made for us. After breakfast we had arranged, as a surprise, to hire a car and take her for a beautiful drive in the country. Mother was rarely able to have a treat like that, because she was busy in the house nearly all the time. But on the very morning of the day, we changed the plan a little, because it occurred to Father that it would be even better to take Mother fishing. As the car was hired and paid for, we might as well use it to drive up into the hills where the streams are. As Father said, if you just go driving you have a sense of aimlessness, but if you are going to fish there is a definite purpose that heightens the enjoyment. So we all felt it would be nicer for Mother to have a definite purpose; and anyway, Father had just got a new fishing rod the day before, which he said Mother could use if she wanted to; only Mother said she would much rather watch him fish than try to fish herself. So we got her to make up a sandwich lunch in case we got hungry, though of course we were to come home again to a big festive dinner. Well, when the car came to the door, it turned out that there wasn't as much room in it as we had supposed, because we hadn't reckoned on Father's fishing gear and the lunch, and it was plain that we couldn't all get in. Father said not to mind him, that he could just as well stay home and put in the time working in the garden. He said that we were not to let the fact that he had not had a real holiday for three years stand in our way. He wanted us to go right ahead and not to mind him. But of course we all felt that it would never do to let Father stay home. The two girls, Anna and Mary, would have stayed and gotten dinner, only it seemed such a pity to, on a lovely day like this, having their new hats. But they said that Mother had only to say the word and they'd gladly stay home and work. Will and I would have dropped out, but we wouldn't have been any use in getting the dinner. So in the end it was decided that Mother would stay home and just have a lovely restful day around the house, and get the dinner. Also it turned out to be just a bit raw out-of-doors, and Father said he would never forgive himself if he dragged Mother round the country and let her take a severe cold. He said it was our duty to let Mother get all the rest and quiet she could, after all she had done for all of us, and that young people seldom realize how much quiet means to people who are getting old. He could still stand the racket, but he was glad to shelter Mother from it. Well, we had the loveliest day up among the hills, and Father caught such big fish that he felt sure that Mother couldn't have landed them anyway, if she had been fishing for them. Will and I fished too, and the two girls met some young men friends along the stream, and so we all had a splendid time. We sat down to a roast turkey dinner when we got back. Mother had to get up a good bit during the meal fetching things, but at the end Father said she simply mustn't do it, that he wanted her to relax, and he got up and got the walnuts from the buffet himself. The dinner was great fun, and when it was over all of us wanted to help clear the things up and wash the dishes, only Mother said that she would do it, and so we let her, because we wanted to humor her. It was late when it was all over, and when we kissed Mother before going to bed, she said it had been the most wonderful day in her life. Funny that there were tears in her eyes.

 

The Hand that Rocks the Cradle    Blessings on the hand of women! Angels guard its strength and grace, In the palace, cottage, hovel, Oh, no matter where the place; Would that never storms assailed it, Rainbows ever gently curled; For the hand that rocks the cradle Is the hand that rules the world. Infancy's the tender fountain, Power may with beauty flow, Mother's first to guide the streamlets, From them souls unresting grow— Grow on for the good or evil, Sunshine streamed or evil hurled; For the hand that rocks the cradle Is the hand that rules the world. Woman, how divine your mission Here upon our natal sod! Keep, oh, keep the young heart open Always to the breath of God! All true trophies of the ages Are from mother-love impearled; For the hand that rocks the cradle Is the hand that rules the world. Blessings on the hand of women! Fathers, sons, and daughters cry, And the sacred song is mingled With the worship in the sky— Mingles where no tempest darkens, Rainbows evermore are hurled; For the hand that rocks the cradle Is the hand that rules the world. William Ross Wallace (1819-1881)

 

 

While fathers will appreciate this as well, only a mother will know the true emotion of this:
(author unknown to me)

 

After 21 years of marriage, I discovered a new way of keeping alive the spark of love.  A little while ago I started to out with another woman.  It was really my wife's idea.  "I know that you love her," she said one day, taking me by surprise.  "But I love YOU," I protested.  "I know, but you also love her."  The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my mother, who has been a widow for 19 years.  The demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally.  That night I called to invite her to out for dinner and a movie.  "What's wrong?  Are you okay?" she asked.  My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news.  "I thought that it would be nice to spend some time with you," I responded.  "Just the two of us?"  She thought about it for a moment, then said, "I would like that very much."  That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous.  When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our "date."  She waited in the door with her coat on.  She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary.  She smiled from a face that was a radiant as an angel's.  "I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed," she said, as she got into the car.  "They can't wait to hear about our meeting."  We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy.  My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady.  After we sat down, I had to read the menu.  Her eyes could only read large print. Half way through the entrees, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me.  A nostalgic smile was on her lips.  "It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small," she said.  "Then it's time that you relax and let me return the favor," I responded.  During the dinner we had an agreeable conversation - nothing extraordinary - but catching up on recent events of each other's life.

 

We talked so much that we missed the movie.  As we arrived at her house later, she said, "I'll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you."  I agreed.  "How was your dinner date?" asked my wife when I got home.  "Very nice.  Much more so than I could have imagined," I answered.  A few days later my mother died of a massive heart attack.  It happened so suddenly that I didn't have a chance to do anything for her.

 

Sometime later I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place my mother and I had dined.  An attached note read:  "Son, I paid this bill in advance.  I was almost sure that I couldn't be there but, nevertheless, I paid for two plates - one for you and the other for your wife.  You will never know what that night meant for me.  I love you."

 

At that moment I understood the importance of saying, in time: 
"I LOVE YOU" and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve.  Nothing in life is more important than your family.  Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till "some other time." 

Somebody said it take about six weeks to get back to normal after you've had a baby....somebody doesn't know that once you're a mother, "normal" is history. 

 

Somebody said you learn how to be a mother by instinct....somebody never took a three-year-old shopping.               

Somebody said being a mother is boring....somebody never rode in a car driven by a teenager with a driver's permit.

Somebody said if you're a "good" mother, your child will "turn out good."  Somebody thinks a child comes with directions and a guarantee.

Somebody said "good "mothers never raise their voices.  Somebody never came out the back door just in time to see her child hit a golf ball through the neighbor's kitchen window.

Somebody said you don't need an education to be a mother.  Somebody never helped a fourth grader with his math.

Somebody said you can't love the fifth child as much as you love the first.  Somebody doesn't have five children. [or eleven  :-) ]

Somebody said a mother can find all the answers to her child-rearing questions in the books....somebody never had a child stuff beans up his nose or in his ears.

Somebody said the hardest part of being a mother is labor and delivery.  Somebody never watched her "baby" get on the bus for the first day of kindergarten, or on a plane headed for military "boot camp."

Somebody said a mother can do her job with her eyes closed and one hand tied behind her back....somebody never organized seven giggling Brownies to sell cookies.

Somebody said a mother can stop worrying after her child gets married....somebody doesn't know that marriage adds a new son or daughter-in-law to a mother's heartstrings.

Somebody said a mother's job is done when her last child leaves home...somebody never had grandchildren.

Somebody said your mother knows you love her, so you don't need to tell her...  that somebody isn't a mother.

 

(author unknown)