Mothers
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ALWAYS MOTHER

Always a smile to brighten the road,
Always a hand to lighten the load,
Always a prayer to keep us well,
Always near when there's something to tell ~
That's Mother.

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"Honor your father and your mother,
that your days may be prolonged in the land
which the Lord your God gives you."

Exodus 20:12 NASB

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The following story was sent to me by my dear
friend Wanda, and I wanted to share it. I have
no idea who authored it, but oh, it does a
mother's heart good to read this!

A MOTHER'S JOB DESCRIPTION

A few months ago, when I was picking up the
children at school, another mother I knew well
rushed up to me. Emily was fuming with indignation.
"Do you know what you and I are?" she demanded.
Before I could answer, and I didn't really have
one handy, she blurted out the reason for her
question. It seemed she had just returned from
renewing her driver's license at the County Clerk's
office. Asked by the woman recorder to state her
occupation, Emily had hesitated, uncertain how
to classify herself. "What I mean is," explained
the recorder, "Do you have a job, or are you just
a ....?" "Of course I have a job," snapped Emily.
"I'm a mother." "We don't list 'mother' as an
occupation...'Housewife' covers it!" said the
recorder emphatically. I forgot all about her
story until one day I found myself in the same
situation, this time at our own Town Hall. The
clerk was obviously a career woman; poised,
efficient, and possessed of a high-sounding title
like 'Official Interrogator' or 'Town Registrar'.
"And what is your occupation?" she probed.
What made me say it, I do not know. The words
simply popped out. "I'm a Research Associate in the
field of Child Development and Human Relations."
The clerk paused, ballpoint pen frozen in mid-air,
and looked up as though she had not heard right.
I repeated the title slowly, emphasizing the most
significant words. Then I stared with wonder as
my pompous pronouncement was written in bold,
black ink on the official questionnaire. "Might I
ask," said the clerk with new interest, "just what
you do in your field?" Coolly, without any trace
of fluster in my voice, I heard myself reply,
"I have a continuing program of research (what
mother doesn't) in the laboratory and in the field
(normally I would have said indoors and out).
I'm working for my Masters (the whole darned family)
and already have four credits (all daughters).
Of course, the job is one of the most demanding in
the humanities (any mother care to disagree?) and
I often work 14 hours a day (24 is more like it).
But, the job is more challenging than most run-of-
the-mill careers and the rewards are in satisfaction
rather than just money." There was an increasing note
of respect in the clerk's voice as she completed the
form. I stood up, and she personally ushered me to
the door. As I drove into our driveway, buoyed up
by my glamorous new career, I was greeted by my lab
assistants - ages 13, 7, and 3. Upstairs I could
hear our new experimental model (6 months) in the
child-development program, testing out a new vocal
pattern. I felt triumphant! I had scored a beat on
the bureaucracy! And. . .I had gone on the official
records as someone more distinguished and
indispensable to mankind than "just another mother."
MOTHERHOOD. . .what a glorious career!
Especially when there's a title on the door.

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ARE ALL THE CHILDREN IN?

I think ofttimes as the night draws nigh
Of an old house on the hill,
Of a yard all wide and blossom-starred,
Where the children played at will.

And when the night at last came down,
Hushing the merry din,
Mother would look around and ask,
"Are all the children in?"

'Tis many and many a year since then,
And the old house on the hill
No longer echoes to childish feet,
And the yard is still, so still.

But I see it all, as the shadows creep,
And though many the years have been,
I still can hear my mother ask,
"Are all the children in?"

When we step into the Other Land,
Where Mother so long has been,
Will we hear her ask, just as of old,
"Are all the children in?"

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THE IMAGES OF MOTHER

~ 4 YEARS OF AGE ~
My Mommy can do anything!
~ 8 YEARS OF AGE ~
My Mom knows a lot! A whole lot!
~ 12 YEARS OF AGE ~
My Mother doesn't really know quite everything.
~ 14 YEARS OF AGE ~
Naturally, Mother doesn't know that, either.
~ 16 YEARS OF AGE ~
Mother? She's hopelessly old-fashioned!
~ 18 YEARS OF AGE ~
That old woman? She's way out of date!
~ 25 YEARS OF AGE ~
Well, she might know a little bit about it.
~ 35 YEARS OF AGE ~
Before we decide, let's get Mom's opinion.
~ 45 YEARS OF AGE ~
Wonder what Mom would have thought about it?
~ 65 YEARS OF AGE ~
Wish I could talk it over with Mom.

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A MOTHER'S LOVE

Our Father in heaven whose love is divine,
Thanks for the love of a mother like mine,
And in Thy great mercy look down from above
And grant this dear mother the gift of your love.

And all through the year, whatever betide her,
Assure her each day that You are beside her ~~
And, Father in heaven, show me the way,
To lighten her tasks and brighten her day.

And bless her dear heart with the insight to see
That her love means more than the world to me.

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MOTHER'S PRAYER

I never shall forget the day
I heard my mother kindly say,
"You're leaving now my tender care,
Remember, child, your mother's prayer."

I never can forget the voice
That always makes my heart rejoice;
Though I have wandered, God knows where,
Still I remember Mother's prayer.

Though years have gone, I can't forget
Those words of love---I hear them yet;
I see her by the old armchair,
My mother dear in humble prayer.

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If you have received a blessing from this page,
give God the glory! Thanks for allowing me
to share it with you. May God bless and keep you!

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Please Note: Unless otherwise named,
offerings on this page are by writer
or writers unknown to me.

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