I want to extract a little tribute to mothers from a column written by Erma Bombeck as condensed by the Reader’s Digest.
When the good Lord was creating mothers, he was into his sixth day of overtime when an angel appeared.
The Lord said, “Have you read the specs on this? She was to be completely washable, but not plastic . . .have 180 moveable parts – all replaceable . . . have a lap that deisappears when she stands up . . . a kiss that can cure anything froma broken leg to a disappointed love affiar . . . and six pairs of hands.”
The angel shook her head slowly and said, “Six pairs of hands? No way.”
“It’s not the hands that are causing me problems,” the Lord said. “It’s the three pairs of eyes that mothers have to have. One pair that sees through closed doors when she asks, ‘What are you kids doing in there?’ when she already knows. Another in the back of her head that sees what she shouldn’t but what she has to know. And, of course, the ones in front that can look at a child when he goofs up and say ‘I understand and I love you’ without so much as uttering a word.
“I have one who heals herself when she is sick, can feed a family of six on a pound of hamburger, and can get a nine-year-old to stand unde a shower.”
The angel circled the model of a mother very slowly. “It’s too soft,” she sighed.
“But tough!” said the Lord. You cannot imagine what this mother can do or endure.”
“Can it think?”
“Not only think, but it can reason and compromise,” the Lord said.
Finally the angel bent across the cheek. “There’s a leak,” she said.
“It’s not a leak,” said the Lord. “It’s a tear.“
”What’s it for?”
“It’s for joy, sadness, disappointment, pain, loneliness, and pride.”
“You are a genius,” the angel said.
“The Lord looked somber. “I didn’t put it there.”
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My father died when I was a sophomore at the university. My other, five feet tall and weighing less than 100 pounds, had been my first teacher. While I was attending the university, she was my confidante. She listened to my reactions to each teacher, induced me to tell her what each class amounted to and was my confidante and adviser. Thank the Lord for the self-sacrificing, wise, and loving mother to whom I owe everlasting gratitude.
Sources: Original in the possession of Miriam Zabriskie.
Electronic submission by Ruth Barker, 2010.