A tender-eyed smile, silky-soft hands,
A warm heart that always understands.
Comfort and kindness, song and laughter,
Cherished memories, now and hereafter.
Rocking me gently to sleep on your lap,
Rubbing my back as I took my nap.
Talking to me, listening patiently,
Always believing the best of me.
Quick to praise others, slow to complain,
Silent about your own tiredness and pain.
For us to have more, you did without much;
Quieted quarrels, soothed hurts with your touch.
Seven of us kids for you to raise;
How'd you get through those difficult days?
Often your Bible lay open to a Psalm;
Guess that's where you got your magic calm!
You scrubbed and hung out clothes in the cold,
Cooked our meals on that fussy woodstove,
Helped us draw hopscotch, watched us climb trees,
Found jars to catch butterflies and bees.
When we came home, you always were there
in the kitchen or back room in prayer.
Once you were gone; my heart lurched in Fear;
You'd flown in the "Rapture"; I'd been left here!
We played house, church, school--kick the can in warm weather--
Gathered to sing 'round the piano together.
I remember treats from those happy days...
Popcorn and fudge, and ice cream--on paydays!
And when I grew older and felt so mature,
You sensed every pull of the enemy's lure.
You taught me trust when I wondered, "Why?"
Shared a soft shoulder when I would cry.
You've made my life so richly blessed;
When it comes to mothers, I've got the best!
My sweet Mama's parents came from the "old country", met and married in the eastern part of the United States, then settled in the Midwest, in a section of town where immigrants congregated. Life was quite rough and scary at times; but as in the Brooklyn Bridge sitcom of several years back, it was full of rich family and friend heritage, too--old-fashioned decency and morals.
Though raised in church, Mama never felt she knew God in a personal way till after she and Daddy were married. He came from a different church background but was not relating to God either. They met at a tavern where he had gone to play music; she, to dance. Then one night, they went to a church service that impacted their lives forever; they both received Jesus as their personal Savior and Lord.
The newlyweds began and ended each day with prayer and Bible reading--and hugs and kisses! We seven kids knew nothing else and are all still seeking to know God more today--each of us with our original marriage partner. We were raised in a three-room shack with no hot water or indoor bath, an old warm-morning, pot-bellied stove and a wood stove in the kitchen. No TV--not even a car! Yet, they gave us the rich heritage of a good name, great values, faith and faithfulness, and love.
What kind of legacy are we leaving our children and grandchildren? What do they see as the center of our lives? Somehow, despite so many luxuries and things, it seems to me that this generation is to be more pitied for its poverty. May God help us to recover the concept of true riches so we leave our posterity an inheritance that lasts and pays eternal dividends.