I Think My Life Began

I think my life began with waking up

and loving my mother's face.

~ George Eliot

Nature's Loving Proxy

Nature's loving proxy, the watchful mother.

~ Edward George Earle Bulwer- Lytton

No Language Can Express

No language can express the power and beauty

and heroism and majesty of a mother's love.

~ Edwin H. Chapin

Into the Woman's Keeping

Into the woman's keeping is committed the destiny of

the generations to come after us.

~ Theodore Roosevelt

A Good Laugh

A good laugh

is sunshine 

in a house.

~ William Makepeace Thackeray

Fifty-four Years of Love and Tenderness

Fifty-four years of love and tenderness and crossness and devo-
tion and unswerving loyalty. Without [Mother] I could have
achieved a quarter of what I have achieved, not only in terms
of success and career, but in terms of personal happiness...
She has never stood between me and my life, never tried to
hold me too tightly, always let me go free...

~ Noel Coward

I Shall Never Forget My Mother

I shall never forget my mother, for it was she who planted and
nurtured the first seeds of good within me. She opened my
heart to the lasting impressions of nature; she awakened my
understanding and extended my horizon, and her precepts
exerted an everlasting influence upon the course of my life.

~ Immanuel Kant

My Mother

My mother was the making of me. She was so true and so sure
of me, I felt that I had someone to live for -- someone I must
not disappoint. The memory of my mother will always be a
blessing to me.

~ Thomas Edison

Legacy

My mother left me lovely things:
The orisons of birds,
The hushes soliloquies of leaves,
The silent peace of herds.

She willed me gossamers of song
And taught me when to pray;
She had the courage -- tranquil, sure --
That I could use today.

But, oh, the gift I cherish most
In all her legacy --
The depth of love she had, to give
His mother's name to me.

~ Mary Carlier

My Mother's Love

There is no other love so tender,
There is no hand so gentle and kind,
There is no heart so understanding,
As that dear, sweet mother of mine.

No matter that life rushes onward,
That things seem ever to change;
No matter the time or the distance,
My mother's love is the same.

Whenever the way seem lonely,
When burdens are heavy to bear,
My heart finds solace and comfort
Remembering my mother's care.

Her own special care still surrounds me,
Though she now lives in heaven above;
Each day my heart finds a blessing
Through my mother's great gift of love.

~ Virginia Wave McPheeters

An Optimist's Promise

A raindrop fell upon my lip.
I licked it off to see if it
Would taste like honey,
As my mother said it would.

A snowflake lit upon my sleeve.
I watched it closely to perceive
It glisten like an angel's wing,
As my mother said it would.

A ray of sunshine sparked my tears.
I wondered then if it appeared
To shimmer smiles through to me,
As my mother said it would.

Now, raindrops on my tongue are sweet,
The snowflakes' message, clear,
And sunshine laughs out loud with me,
As my mother's always near.

~ Betty Dubecki Hochstrasser

These Things are Good

To give a little homeless child a home,
A piece of silver in a beggar's hand,
A load of wood to the old, helpless poor,
The sound of rain upon a thirsty land;

To comfort people who are sore oppressed,
And love your neighbor with a kindly grace;
To speak to stranger when they come to church,
And show the world a cheerful smiling face;

These things are good: the smell of cedar trees,
Lupines as blue as heaven in a field,
The drift of smoke, the flame of yellow broom,
A scarred old tree whose broken bark has healed,

White snow to hide the shivering fields from sight,
Blue shadows in the folds of a ravine,
A little gift-edged card with Christmas trees,
A frozen pond where silver willows lean.

For all good things abide: the fir trees growing,
A love of home and fires in a grate,
A lighted doorway and a table set,
And mother watching for us at the gate.

~ Edna Jaques

The Woman Who Creates

The woman who creates and sustains a home, and

under whose hands children grow up to be strong and

pure men and women, is a creator second only to God.

~ Helen Maria Fiske Hunt Jackson

Psalms by Lamplight

Above the bread, the china cup,
Believing, patient eyes look up.
They lift themselves unto the hills
Beyond the plant-filled window sills;
They catch, they hold the light like grace;
Light overflows the heart, the face,
And in a burst of glory, shines
On fingers tracing cherished lines:
"I shall not want." No doubt nor grief
Darkens this radiant belief.
The ceiling shelters like a wing
Where Mother and a kettle sing.

~ Geraldine Ross

Day Dreams

I measured myself by the wall in the garden;
The hollyhocks blossomed far over my head.
"Oh, when I can touch with the tips of my fingers
The highest green bud, with its lining of red,

"I shall not be a child anymore, but a woman.
Dear hollyhock blossoms, how glad I shall be!
I wish they would hurry--the years that are coming--
And bring the bright days that I dream of to me!

"Oh, when I am grown, I shall know all my lessons;
There's so much to learn when one's only just ten!
I shall be very rich, very handsome, and stately,
And good, too, of course--t'will be easier then!

"There'll be many to love me, and nothing to vex me,
No knots in my sewing, no crusts to my bread.
My days will go by like the days in a story,
The sweetest and gladdest that ever was read.

"And then I shall come out some day to the garden
(For this little corner must always be mine);
I shall wear a white gown, all embroidered with silver,
That trials in the grass with a rustle and shine.

"And, meeting some child here at play in the sunshine,
With gracious hands laid on her head, I shall say,
'I measured myself by these hollyhock blossoms
Where I was no taller than you, dear, one day!'

"She will smile in my face as I stoop low to kiss her,
And--Hark! they are calling me in to my tea!
O blossoms, I wish that the slow years would hurry!
When, when will they bring all I dream of to me?"

~ Margaret Johnson

Nap

Such a busy day for me ---
watching squirrels
race round a tree,
waving at
the big red truck,
splashing with
my rubber duck,
prancing
wearing Daddy's hat,
dancing with
the kitty cat,
helping Auntie
stir and cook,
coloring
my bunny book,
building bridges,
roads, and farms.

Time to rest in
Mommy's arms,
take a cozy nap,
and then --- off I'll go
to play again.

~ Eileen Spinelli

The Rocking Chair

Of the many treasures I hold dear,

None will ever compare

With those precious memories

Of Mother's rocking chair.

Standing by so faithfully,

Its duty was never shirked,

Providing comfort for Mother,

While on and on she worked.

When daytime work was done,

In her rocker she would sit,

Humming familiar tunes

While her hands would deftly knit.

Her chair creaked just slightly,

In harmony with the ticking clock.

Mother would slowly rock away

While darning another sock.

Although Mother is not here today

To render her love and care,

The love will always radiate

With thoughts of her rocking chair.

~ Samuel L. Bontrager

Love Circle

I wish that for an hour

Again I could be

Five. Or perhaps four,

Or maybe even three.

I'd crawl up in your lap,

Safe and snug and warm,

And take a little nap

In your loving arms.

But now that I'm grown up,

And now that I'm a mom,

I'll do what time allows

With this dear child of my own.

I'll take him in my lap,

Safe and snug and warm,

And he'll take a little nap

In my loving arms.

Love is like a circle:

We go around the bend;

We grow a little older;

But the love, it never ends.

~ Karona Drummond

Mother's Kitchen

I remember those times quite well,

Though it often seems like a dream,

Riding my tricycle in Mother's kitchen

While she daily cooked and cleaned.

She placed food in the wood-burning oven

To cook the proper length of time.

She'd then use her handmade straw broom

To sweep trash along a straight line.

I knew that, while peddling along,

I had better stay out of the way

And never let my red tricycle

Go in areas called "astray."

I traveled a certain path,

So very squeaky and wooden,

While smells of gingerbread danced,

As well as pineapple pudding,

Mother made many recipes in her kitchen,

Yet never wrote them down.

I think she also had one for smiling,

For I rarely saw her frown.

I want the same happiness in my home,

And I will certainly try to do my best.

With memories of Mother's kitchen to help me,

I know I will pass the test.

~ Jimmie Oliver Fleming

To My Mother

If e'er for human bliss or woe

I feel the sympathetic glow;

If e'er my heart has learn'd to know

The gen'rous wish or pray'r;

Who sow'd the germ, with tender hand?

Who mark'd its infant leaves expand?

My mother's fostering care.

And if one flower of charms refined

May grace the garden of my mind,

'Twas she who nursed it there:

She loved to cherish and adorn

Each blossom of the soil;

To banish every weed and thorn

That oft opposed her toil!

And, oh, if e'er I sighed to claim

The palm, the living palm of fame,

The glowing wreath of praise;

If e'er I've wish'd the glitt'ring stores

That fortune on her fav'rite pours;

'Twas but that wealth and fame, if mine,

Round thee with streaming rays might shine

And gild thy sun-bright days!

~ Felicia Hemans

My Mother

I walk around the rocky shore;

Her strength is in the ocean's roar.

I glance into the shaded pool;

Her mind is there, so calm and cool.

I hear sweet rippling of the sea;

Naught but her laughter 'tis to me.

I gaze into the starry skies,

And there I see her wondrous eyes.

I look into my inmost mind,

And here her inspiration find.

In all I am and hear and see,

My precious mother is with me.

~ Josephine Rice Creelman

Children

Children, look in those eyes, listen to that

dear voice, notice the feeling of even a single

touch that is bestowed upon you by that gentle

hand! Make much of it while yet you have

that most previous of all gifts, a loving

mother. Read the unfathomable love of those

eyes; the kind anxiety of that tone and look,

however slight your pain.  In afterlife, you

may have friends, fond, dear friends, but

never will you have again the inexpressible

love and gentleness lavished upon you,

which none but a mother bestows.

~ Thomas Macaulay

There is in All This

There is in all this cold and hollow world

no fount of deep, strong, deathless love,

save that within a mother's heart.

~ Felicia Hemans

Strength of Character

Strength of character may be

acquired at work, but beauty of

character is learned at home.

There the affections are trained.

There the gentle life reaches us,

the true heaven life.

~ Henry Drummond

Mother

I have praised many loved ones in my song.

And yet I stand

Before her shrine, to whom all things belong,

With empty hand.

Perhaps the ripening future holds a time

For things unsaid;

Not now; men do not celebrate in rhyme

Their daily bread.

~ Theresa Helburn

A Homemaker's Prayer

Lord, let this house be more than walls,
Windowpanes, wide chimneys, and well-rugged floor;
Let there be signs of welcome at the door,
In smiles that greet each visitor who calls;
Let love be as the warmth within its walls
To comfort any person, grieved or poor,
Who enters, friend or stranger, at the door;
Let house be home, wherein Your dear light falls.
From Your blest Spirit, give this place, O Lord,
That peace which worldly treasure cannot buy:
Faith and contentment as shields against the storm,
Bright riches of the soul time cannot harm,
And grace which toil and trouble will not try,
Firm-founded on Thy bedrock of accord.

~ Louise Weibert Sutton

Invitation

Oh, come to my little green garden,
Where daisies bloom bright by the door,
Where pansies peek shyly from baskets,
And day lilies bloom by the score,

Where roses as fragrant as jasmine
Perfume both the day and the night,
Where goldfinches gather at feeders,
Then leave in a twittering flight.

In my garden your troubles, though many
And dark as the shadows at dawn,
Will vanish quickly as dewdrops
Disperse in the light of the sun.

~ Evalyn Torrant

Mother and Home

Mother! Home! - that blest refrain

Sounds through every hastening year:

All things go, but these remain.

Held in memory's jeweled chain,

Names most precious, names thrice dear:

Mother! Home! - that blest refrain.

How it sings away my pain!

How it stills my waking fear!

All things go, but these remain.

Griefs may grow and sorrows wane,

E'er that melody I hear:

Mother! Home! - that blest refrain.

Tenderness in every strain,

Thoughts to worship and revere:

All things go, but these remain.

Every night you smile again,

Every day you bring me cheer:

Mother! Home! - that blest refrain:

All things go, but these remain.

~ John Jarvis Holden