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!