MY HERO: MY MOTHER
All that can be written has perhaps been written about mothers. But I did not write it, and it was not written about MY mother. My mother was left a widow at age 33 with three small girls. Welfare did not do much in those days, and she had no special training or work skills. Her health was not good, but her spirit was strong. Her faith in God was unfailing. For years she worked as a seamstress, doing laundry and picking cotton. She taught her three girls to work with her. We never missed a meal, we always had clean clothes and we always knew we were loved. Money was scarce, our clothes were homemade and our house was small. But our mother loved us. Thanks Mom – for… All the times you rubbed my legs when they ached.
You held me and cared for me when I had ear aches,
measles, mumps, chicken pox, whooping cough…
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