To do constantly,
To do kindly,
To do lovingly,
Many little things
Is not a little thing.
It perfectly states her life's mission statement. Of course, I don't think she ever actually wrote a mission statement. But that could have been it, if she had done so. Her life was an example of this motto.
There is never a time that I can recall my mom failing to do good for someone in need. If she visited someone, she took food. Sometimes, it was something she'd baked or cooked. Sometimes, it was something she'd grown in her garden. Many times, it was something produced by the chickens she kept, or the cows we milked.
My father had two families: the one he was born to, and the one he grew up with after his parents' early deaths. My mother incorporated both of them actively into our lives. I didn't really understand the dual relatives thing until I was grown. Daddy and his brother and sister didn't live in the same home from the time my dad was only eight years old. But they had tried to maintain a sense of family. When they were all grown, they had the option to keep their family ties or not. It would require an effort. We visited their homes regularly and they were invited to ours, even though we didn't live near them. We traded cousins for visits, we helped them whenever possible and included them always in holidays and celebrations. We did live just a few miles from the family who raised my dad, and attended church together each week. We ate meals with them on holidays often, we dropped by for casual visits and big celebrations. We helped one another with farm work. They were family, too. I know from being married that, in many cases, it is the wife who nurtures these relationships. I know my mother reached out to keep family ties active for both of our dad's families.
She reached out to non-relatives, as well. We stopped off to pick up a very old lady many Sundays so she'd get to church. Mind you, that resulted in five of us children sitting in the back seat, so she'd have room in the front. No problem. My mother served Sunday dinner regularly to an elderly bachelor whom my dad would pick up after church (he rarely attended). Mr. C always cracked us up by pointing out, when asked if he'd like to wash up before the meal, that he'd been wearing gloves, so no thanks. He gobbled up all the delicious mashed potatoes, roast chicken, lemon meringue pie and homemade bread that was served to him. As did everyone who sat with us for those amazing Sunday dinners.
It was her example to be always going about doing good that each of most remembers, I think. We were actually quite poor---in the sense of having actual cash. I didn't realize this until I was an adult. It seemed that I lived in a world of abundance. I always had clean clothes. My hair was washed and curled regularly. I ate well-balanced, delicious meals every day. I had a warm and clean bed. I frequently teach children who desperately need any of those things. Our mother's life work was teaming with our dad in providing these very things to their children. She'd grown up in a world secure with the knowledge that loving adults would care for her needs. He hadn't. But we children lived in a veritable cocoon of security. Of course, it was made possible through their never-ending efforts, and we children recognized that and contributed our work however possible. I don't remember ever being resentful that we had to do chores. I just remember feeling happy whenever I got skilled enough to take over one of their jobs, so that they didn't have so much to do.
Anyway, I just like to reminisce on her birthday and recall the fine example of a being a person who followed Christ's teachings to do good to others in kindness and abundance. She was definitely a person of good cheer and good works. Happy Birthday Mother!
There is never a time that I can recall my mom failing to do good for someone in need. If she visited someone, she took food. Sometimes, it was something she'd baked or cooked. Sometimes, it was something she'd grown in her garden. Many times, it was something produced by the chickens she kept, or the cows we milked.
My father had two families: the one he was born to, and the one he grew up with after his parents' early deaths. My mother incorporated both of them actively into our lives. I didn't really understand the dual relatives thing until I was grown. Daddy and his brother and sister didn't live in the same home from the time my dad was only eight years old. But they had tried to maintain a sense of family. When they were all grown, they had the option to keep their family ties or not. It would require an effort. We visited their homes regularly and they were invited to ours, even though we didn't live near them. We traded cousins for visits, we helped them whenever possible and included them always in holidays and celebrations. We did live just a few miles from the family who raised my dad, and attended church together each week. We ate meals with them on holidays often, we dropped by for casual visits and big celebrations. We helped one another with farm work. They were family, too. I know from being married that, in many cases, it is the wife who nurtures these relationships. I know my mother reached out to keep family ties active for both of our dad's families.
She reached out to non-relatives, as well. We stopped off to pick up a very old lady many Sundays so she'd get to church. Mind you, that resulted in five of us children sitting in the back seat, so she'd have room in the front. No problem. My mother served Sunday dinner regularly to an elderly bachelor whom my dad would pick up after church (he rarely attended). Mr. C always cracked us up by pointing out, when asked if he'd like to wash up before the meal, that he'd been wearing gloves, so no thanks. He gobbled up all the delicious mashed potatoes, roast chicken, lemon meringue pie and homemade bread that was served to him. As did everyone who sat with us for those amazing Sunday dinners.
It was her example to be always going about doing good that each of most remembers, I think. We were actually quite poor---in the sense of having actual cash. I didn't realize this until I was an adult. It seemed that I lived in a world of abundance. I always had clean clothes. My hair was washed and curled regularly. I ate well-balanced, delicious meals every day. I had a warm and clean bed. I frequently teach children who desperately need any of those things. Our mother's life work was teaming with our dad in providing these very things to their children. She'd grown up in a world secure with the knowledge that loving adults would care for her needs. He hadn't. But we children lived in a veritable cocoon of security. Of course, it was made possible through their never-ending efforts, and we children recognized that and contributed our work however possible. I don't remember ever being resentful that we had to do chores. I just remember feeling happy whenever I got skilled enough to take over one of their jobs, so that they didn't have so much to do.
Anyway, I just like to reminisce on her birthday and recall the fine example of a being a person who followed Christ's teachings to do good to others in kindness and abundance. She was definitely a person of good cheer and good works. Happy Birthday Mother!
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