On motherhood and being a mother

Perhaps good mothers are 'made', not 'born'

When we slow down our daily travels and just have an occasion to sit and think, what do we think about? Today I am thinking about what it means to be a mother.

Not every woman can bear children, but that does not prevent them being able and very capable of being a 'mother'. The act of bearing children does not automatically qualify a person for being a 'mother.

Perhaps good mothers are 'made', not 'born' and that may come from a person being able to put another person's needs  in front of their own  needs.

I am thinking of my own mother and her unselfish devotion to her family. She was a woman of faith, and raised seven children well. Mama was a country woman, growing up in a large family, then having a large family of her own.

I look back at the memories of the times growing up and the visions these thoughts bring to my mind, and I can still see my mama, with her hair long and wound around her head as neatly as possible, with her apron on, and cooking lunch for her brood of children. I was seventh out of seven children and I am sure my siblings remember much more than I do of those early days of living on our 500-acre farm. 

But I remember mama standing at the doorway, calling her crew in to lunch. I guess we may have had a ‘dinner’ bell, seems that I remember one. But daddy worked on the farm and all the kids did too as we all got older. I guess I was the last one out, being the youngest of the group, but I do remember setting out tomato plants, hoeing the weeds from the corn and beans, and going to the hen house to gather the eggs. 

Mama’s hands, to me, were always there for helping me along. I don’t recall ever a harsh touch, nor even a raised voice. Mama read her Bible every day, and taught Sunday School lessons to her children. 

We think upon the qualities of a mother, and when I envision a mother, it is always my own mama who comes to my mind.  Ready and willing to do for her own family, plus for the neighbors’ children and their parents. Teaching us right from wrong. Pitching in at the community center and at church to help anyone where a need arose. Baked pies and cakes to take to those who needed it or who had suffered a loss. Helping we children with homework. Rubbing daddy’s feet at night when her own probably could have used a rubdown, too.

Giving one of the children the last piece of pie instead of saving a bite for herself.  Motherhood should be unselfish. Maybe my own mama was not an angel, but you would never convince me of that.

Motherly Love