"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 their thoughts toward a particular 
person and dwell there for a period of time.

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, I smiled 
through tears as I laid the flowers beside her grave
and said, ďHappy Motherís Day, Mom.Ē 

Pamela Blaine
© May, 2003


Oak Tree at Linville Cemetery