Journey of a Mother
The young Mother set her foot on the path of life. “Is this the long way?” she asked. And her guide said, “Yes and the ways are hard. And you will be old before you reach the end of it. But the end will 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, and gathered flowers for them along the way, and bathed them in the clear streams, and the sun shone on them.
Then the night came, and the storm. The path was dark. And the children shook with fear and cold, the Mother drew them close and covered them with her mantle, the children said, “Mother, we are not afraid, for you are nears and no them.
Then the night came, and the storm. The path was dark. And the children shook with fear and cold, the Mother drew then close and covered them with her mantle, the children said, “Mother, we are not afraid, for you are nears and no harm can come.’
Then the morning came, there was a hill ahead. The children climbed and grew weary, the Mother was weary, too. But at all times she said to the children, “A little patience and we are there.” So the children climbed, when they reached the top they said, “Mother, we would not have done it without you.” The mother, when she lay down at night looked up at the stars and said, “This is a better day than the last, for my children have learned fortitude in the face of hardness. Yesterday I gave them courage. Today I have given them strength.”
The next day came strange clouds which darkened the earth-clouds of war, hate and evil, and the children groped and stumbled, the Mother said, “Look up. Lift your eyes to the light.” The children looked and saw above the clouds an everlasting glory, it guided them beyond the darkness. That night the Mother said, “This is the best day of all, for I have shown my children God.”
The days went on, and the weeks and the months and the years, the Mother grew old…she was little and bent. But her children were tall and strong, walked with courage. When the way was rough, they lifted her, for she was as light as a feather, and at last they came to a hill, and beyond they could see a shining road and golden gates flung wide.
The 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 alone, and their children after them.” The children said, “You will always walk with us, Mother, even when you have gone through the gates.”
They stood and watched her as she went on alone, and the gates closed after her. They said, “We cannot see her, but she is with us still. A Mother like ours is more than a memory. She is living presence.”
Your Mother is always with you. She’s the smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks, and she’s the cool hand on your brow when you’re not well. Your Mother lives inside your laughter and your tear drops. 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 and your first heartbreak, and nothing on earth can separate you.