"Happy Motherís Day, Mom!"
It was the day before Motherís Day
and people were out in the stores
looking for cards and gifts that
their mothers might enjoy.
Through the years I had gotten
Mom different things for Motherís Day.
It didnít ever seem to matter what
I got her, she always seemed to love it. Sometimes it was simply
a card but she would read every word.
That old saying, ďItís the thought
that counts,Ē is really what mattered
to Mom. Her eyes would suddenly
light up at the very idea that I had
thought of her. When you
consider that, it really is special to know
that someone is thinking about
you. After all, there are thousands of
thoughts that a person could be
thinking at any given time, so itís quite
an honor that someone would turn
thoughts toward a particular
person and dwell there for a period
Mom always loved it when I gave
her flowers. It was probably because
she lived through The Great Depression
and other difficult times.
I think that flowers represented
life, color, and beauty to her.
When I was a child, people didnít
buy a lot of flowers, instead they
shared roots and ďstartsĒ with
one another and
yards would blossom all summer.
However, it is Godís handiwork in
nature that greets us each spring
with the deep purple violets that
surprise us in the yard and even
the dandelions have their beauty
as well as a lot of
other flowers that grow wild.
Thatís why I picked a bouquet from
Godís garden and
got into the car to deliver them
myself. It was only a few miles
over there and I decided that Mom
should have flowers
for Motherís Day. I
drove up the driveway beneath those beautiful
giant oak trees. It was such
a beautiful day for delivering flowers.
As I walked up the gentle slope,
through tears as I laid the flowers
beside her grave
and said, ďHappy Motherís Day,
© May, 2003
Oak Tree at Linville Cemetery