Shrieking & yelling you make entry into this chaotic world like a demon escaping from the scathing fires of hell, yet the first thing you see with your tiny baby eyes is the loving and caring face of the one who bore you, your mother who is radiant with love & angelic in all sense of the word. Her face is lit up like a neon light as she embraces her new born, smiling at having given life to such a jewel or so it seems. Embracing you tightly but with gentleness, she smiles knowing that a great path awaits you in life, filled with all manner of mischievousness, mistakes, the good and the bad, shaking her head as she envisions you growing up.
Yet she swears to herself that she will be with you each & every step of the way, guiding you from the background like a shadow watching you make your very first step. As you grow and move from a boy to a man & some to gentlemen or from a girl to a lady, she is the hand that guides you, the shoulder to lean on and the arms to comfort you in your downfall. Yet when we are old enough, we awaken with a rebellious attitude wanting no part of her, disregarding every advice she gives deeming her as been old fashioned and not of the modern times. Thinking that we know what is best but the truth is “mama knows best”.
When will we learn to appreciate the queen in our lives who raises us to be princes & princesses in this vast land that yearns to be conquered by the string willed. We need to wake up from our slumber and wash away the sleep from our eyes & regain sight of the goal set out before us. For in our mothers we find the best of prayer warriors. When you were young and naive you had the nerve to sneak out of the house like a thief at the devil’s hour and sneak back in at the crack of dawn. Yet in all your transgressions, she put you in her prayers and prayed for your safety, hoping that no ill fate befalls you. If you have a mum, there is nowhere you are likely to go where a prayer has not already been.
She is the comforter, the protector, the teacher, the alarm clock, the nanny, the mother, the home maker, the chef, the nurse, the maid, the cheerleader, she is all this yet we fail to appreciate her for all she does without pay. A selfless being, who was and is there for you when you howled at night like a lonely wolf wanting to be breast fed and have your diapers changed. We really ought to find our manners and be most grateful for the far that we have been brought and take a moment to just be thankful for having such a wonderful woman watching over us.
In our mothers we find strength and in us they are able to witness the untold joys a child brings to a proud parent who has stood the test of time like the great wall of china. When your mother asks, “Do you want a piece of advice?” It is a mere formality. It does not matter if you answer yes or no. You are going to get it anyway. Our mothers give us so many gifts. They give us the precious gift of life, of course, but they also leave treasured lessons that can guide us along our journeys even when they are no longer with us. No language can express the power, beauty, heroism and majesty of a mother’s love. The heart of a mother is a deep abyss at the bottom of which you will always find forgiveness.
When you are a mother, you are never alone in your thoughts. A mother always has to think twice, once for herself and once for her child. Call your mother, tell her you love her. Remember you are the only person who knows what her heart sounds like from the inside. A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us and endeavor by her kind percepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness and peace return to our hearts.
A mother’s happiness is like a beacon, lighting up the future but reflected also on the past in the guise of fond memories. A mother has two smiles that an angel might envy and that which lights on the first born assuring it of a mother’s love.
No comments:
Post a Comment