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 would not believe that anything
could be better than these years.
So she played with her children, she
fed them and bathed them, and taught them how to tie their shoes and
ride a bike and reminded them to feed the dog, and do their homework and
brush their teeth.
The sun shone on them, and the young Mother cried, "Nothing will ever be lovelier than this."
Then the nights came, and the storms, and the path was sometimes dark, and the children shook with fear and cold, and the mother drew them close and covered them with her arms, and the children said, "Mother, we are not afraid, for you are near, 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 as they climbed they learned to weather the
storms.
And with this, she gave them strength to face the world.
Year
after year, she showed them compassion, understanding, hope, but most
of all.... unconditional love.
And when they reached the top they said,
"Mother, we would not have done it without you."
The days went on, and the weeks and the months and the years, and the
mother grew old and she became little and bent.
But her children were
tall and strong, and walked with courage.
The mother, when she lay down at night, looked up at the stars & said, "This is a better day than the last, for my children have learned so much and are passing these traits to their children."
And when the way became rough for her, they lifted her, and gave her their strength, just as she had given them hers.
One day they came to a hill, and beyond the hill, they could see a
shining road and golden gates flung wide.
And mother said: "I have
reached the end of my journey.
Now I know the end is better than the
beginning, for my children can walk with dignity and pride, with their
heads held high, and so can 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 & 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 certain foods you remember,
flowers you pick and perfume that she wore, she's the cool hand on your
brow when you're not feeling well, she's your breath in the air on a
cold winter's day.
She is the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep,
the colors of a rainbow, she is Christmas morning.
Your Mother lives inside your laughter.
And she's crystallized in every
teardrop.
A mother shows every emotion..........happiness, sadness,
fear, jealousy, love, hate, anger, helplessness, excitement, joy,
sorrow...and all the while, hoping & praying you will only know the
good feelings in life.
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; your first friend, even your first enemy, but
nothing on earth can separate you.
Not time, not space...........not
even death!
Most women become mothers by accident, some by choice, a few by social pressures and a couple by habit.
This year thousands of mothers will give birth to a premature baby.
Did you ever wonder how mothers of preemies are chosen?
Somehow, I visualize God hovering over Earth selecting His instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation.
As He observes, He instructs His angels to make notes in a giant ledger.
�Armstrong, Beth, son. Patron saint, Matthew.
�Forest, Majorie, daughter. Patron saint, Ceceila.
�Rutledge, Carrie, twins. Patron saint... give her Gerard. He�s used to profanity.
Finally, He passes a name to an angel and smiles, �Give her a premature baby.�
The angel is curious. �Why this one, God? She�s so happy.�
�Exactly, � smiles God. �Could I give a premature baby a mother who does not know laughter? That would be cruel.�
�But does she have patience?� asks the angel.
�I don�t want her to have too much patience, or she will drown in a sea of self-pity and despair.
Once the shock and resentment wear off, she�ll handle it.
�I watched her today.
She has that sense of self and independence that are so rare and so necessary in a mother.
You see, the child I�m going to give her has his own world.
She has to make it live in her world and that�s not going to be easy.�
�But, Lord, I don�t think she even believes in you.�
God smiles, �No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect. She has just enough selfishness.�
The angel gasps, �Selfishness? Is that a virtue?�
God nods. �If she can�t separate herself from the child occasionally, she�ll never survive.
Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child who comes in a less than perfect way.
She doesn�t realize it yet, but she is to be envied.
�She will never take for granted a spoken word.
She will never consider a step ordinary.
When her child says �Mommy� for the first time, she will be witness to a miracle and know it.
When she describes a tree or a sunset to her blind child, she will see it as few people ever see my creations.
�I will permit her to see clearly the things I see - ignorance, cruelty, prejudice - and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone.
I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side.�
�And what about her patron saint?� asks the angel, the pen poised in mid-air.
God smiles. �A mirror will suffice.�
Adapted from Erma Bombeck Motherhood The Second Oldest Profession
Your Baby's Angel
TO A FIRST TIME MOTHER
