Every year
when I would shop for a Mother’s Day card, I would cry right there in the store
and try to hide my tears. Now that it’s been 15 years since Mama departed for
Heaven, the void in my heart still lingers. I still get teary-eyed when I pass
by and glimpse Mother’s Day cards. The red bird, Cardinal, next to her picture was her favorite bird.
I was the
youngest in a family of eight and, of course, Mama and Daddy called me ‘Baby’.
Even my oldest brother Sam did too. There’s so many memories I have of my
mother but the legacy she left me to carry forward into my life was her strong faith
in God. Now don’t go thinking this was forced on me or controlling my decision
to follow Christ. It was not! She instructed us by Bible principles or we might
have all ended up delinquents because of an absent father. Always struggling to
make ends meet, she often quoted the scripture, “Why do you worry about
clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil
nor spin…” Matthew 6:28.
Although she
had very little education, the daughter of a farmer, she was savvy in many
ways. One of them was intuition and common sense. But she was also full of wisdom
and wit. I have no doubt that if she’d been able to finish school and go to
college, she would have excelled. Maybe written a book. She was usually
cheerful and hardly ever complained about her health.
But Mother’s
Day brings to mind something else—my mama’s hands.
Hands that
were never idle, always finding work to do.
Hands that
formed the best tastin’ biscuits, lemon pie, and fried chicken for Sunday
dinner that you ever tasted. Her red beans and rice, cornbread were
unsurpassed, made by those loving hands. Not to mention her teacakes that
everyone loved.
Hands with a
faint smell of garlic and onions when she would brush my hair.
Hands that
tied on a clean apron, whipped up a delicious meal at the drop of a hat when
family dropped by.
Hands that
took a hot meal to a sick neighbor at the mere mention of illness.
Hands that
ironed the perfect starched shirt-which by the way-hardly anyone ever does, but
I like to when time permits.
Hands with
long, pretty tapered nails that I filed and painted as she became too old to
see well.
Hands that
washed clothes with a ringer washer and hung them out on the clothes line to
dry.
Hands that carefully
counted every penny for household expenses.
Hands that
wore pretty white gloves at Easter.
Hands folded
in prayer, that I glimpsed unbeknownst to her.
I can only
hope that I’m leaving my children a legacy that they will be proud of. What
about you? Have you considered your own legacy? Whether you’re a mother or not,
your legacy matters. In honor of Mother’s Day, I’ll give away 3 copies of Twice
Promised when you leave me a comment on this blog post. Tell me why you’d like
to win the book for your mother or if your mom has passed on, for yourself or
friend. I’ll draw a winner a week from this Sunday.
HAPPY
MOTHER’S DAY!
MAGGIE
BRENDAN
