Tag Archives: mother

The Magnolias

(this story is from an email I received)
I was getting ready for my daughter Patsy’s June wedding which was taking place in a church about forty miles away. I felt loaded with responsibilities as I watched my budget dwindle. So many details, so many bills, and so little time.
My son Jack said he would walk his younger sister down the aisle, taking the place of his dad who had died a few years before. He teased Patsy, saying he’d wanted to give her away since she was about three years old!
To save money, I gathered blossoms from several friends who had large magnolia trees. Their luscious, creamy-white blooms and slick green leaves would make beautiful arrangements against the rich dark wood inside the church.
The big day arrived – the busiest day of my life – and while her bridesmaids helped Patsy to dress, her fiance Tim walked with me to the sanctuary to do a final check.
When we opened the door and felt a rush of hot air, I almost fainted; and then I saw them – all the beautiful white flowers were black. Funeral black. An electrical storm during the night had knocked out the airconditioning system, and on that hot summer day, the flowers had wilted and died.
I panicked, knowing I didn’t have time to drive back to our hometown, gather more flowers, and return in time for the wedding and I certainly didn’t have extra money to buy a new set from the florist in town.
Tim turned to me. ‘Edna, can you get more flowers? I’ll throw away these dead ones and put fresh flowers in these arrangements.’
I mumbled, ‘Sure,’ as he be-bopped down the hall to put on his cuff links.
Alone in the large sanctuary, I looked up at the dark wooden beams in the arched ceiling.
‘Lord,’ I prayed, ‘please help me. I don’t know anyone in this town. Help me find someone willing to give me flowers – in a hurry!’ 
I scurried out praying for the blessing of white magnolias.
As I left the church, I saw magnolia trees in the distance. I approached a house…No dog in sight.. Knocked on the door and an older man answered. So far so good. No shotgun.

When I stated my plea the man beamed, ‘I’d be happy to!’

He climbed a stepladder and cut large boughs and handed them down to me. Minutes later, as I lifted the last armload into my car trunk, I said, ‘Sir, you’ve made the mother of a bride happy today.’
No, Ma’am,’ he said. ‘You don’t understand what’s happening here.’
‘What?’ I asked. 
‘You see, my wife of sixty-seven years died on Monday. On Tuesday, I received friends at the funeral home, and on Wednesday… He paused. I saw tears welling up in his eyes.

‘On Wednesday I buried her.’ He looked away. ‘On Thursday most of my out-of-town relatives went back home, and on Friday – yesterday – my children left.’ 

I nodded. ‘This morning,’ he continued, ‘I was sitting in my den crying out loud. I miss her so much. For the last sixteen years, as her health got worse, she needed me. But now nobody needs me. 

‘This morning I cried, ‘Who needs an eighty-six-year-old worn-out man? Nobody!’ I began to cry louder. ‘Nobody needs me!’ 

About that time, you knocked, and said, ‘Sir, I need you.’  
I stood with my mouth open. He asked, ‘Are you an angel? I assured him I was no angel.  

He smiled. ‘Do you know what I was thinking when I handed you those magnolias?’  
‘I decided I’m needed. My flowers are needed. Why, I might have a flower ministry!  I could give them to everyone! Some caskets at the funeral home have no flowers. People need flowers at times like that and I have lots of them. They’re all over the backyard! I can give them to hospitals, churches – all sorts of places. 

‘You know what I’m going to do? I’m going to serve the Lord until the day He calls me home!’

I drove back to the church, filled with wonder. On Patsy’s wedding day, if anyone had asked me to encourage someone who was hurting, I would have said, ‘Forget it! It’s my only daughter’s wedding, for goodness’ sake! There is no way I can minister to anyone today.’ 
But God found a way. Through dead flowers. 
‘Life is not the way it’s supposed to be. It’s the way it is. The way you cope with it is what makes the difference.’
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Posted by on March 25, 2012 in Uncategorized


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Happy Mother’s Day!


Real Mothers don’t eat quiche;
They don’t have time to make it.

Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils
Are probably in the sandbox.

Real Mothers often have sticky floors,
Filthy ovens and happy kids.

Real Mothers know that dried play dough
Doesn’t come out of carpets.

Real Mothers don’t want to know what
The vacuum just sucked up.

Real Mothers sometimes ask ‘Why me?’
And get their answer when a little
Voice says, ‘Because I love you best.’

Real Mothers know that a child’s growth
Is not measured by height or years or grade…
It is marked by the progression of Mummy to Mum to

The Images of Mother

4 years of age – My Mummy can do anything!

8 years of age – My Mum knows a lot! A whole lot!

12 years of age – My Mother doesn’t know everything!

14 years of age – My Mother? She wouldn’t have a clue.

16 years of age – Mother? She’s so five minutes ago.

18 years of age – That old woman? She’s way out of date!

25 years of age – Well, she might know a little bit about it!

35 years of age – Before we decide, let’s get Mum’s opinion.

45 years of age – Wonder what Mum would have thought about it?

65 years of age – Wish I could talk it over with Mum.

The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears,
the figure she carries,
or the way she combs her hair.

The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes,
Because that is the doorway to her heart,
The place where love resides.

The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole,
But true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul.
It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows,
and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows!

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Posted by on May 9, 2010 in Uncategorized


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Somebody’s Mother


Somebody’s Mother
The woman was old, and ragged, and gray,
And bent with the chill of the winter’s day;

The street was wet with a recent snow,
And the woman’s feet were aged and slow.

She stood at the crossing, and waited long,
Alone, uncared for, amid the throng

Of human beings who passed her by,
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eye.

Down the street, with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of “school let out,”

Came the boys, like a flock of sheep,
Hailing the snow, piled white and deep.

Past the woman so old and gray
Hastened the children on their way;

Nor offered a helping hand to her,
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir,

Lest the carriage wheels or the horses feet
Should knock her down in the slippery street.

At last came one of the merry troop–
The gayest laddie of all the group;

He paused beside her and whispered low:
“I’ll help you across if you wish to go.”

Her aged hand on his strong young arm
She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,

He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong.

Then back to his friends again he went,
His young heart happy and well content.

“She’s somebody’s mother, boys, you know,
For all she’s aged, and poor and slow;

“And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother, you understand,

“If ever she’s poor, and old, and gray,
When her own dear boy is far away.”

And “somebody’s mother” bowed low her head
In her home that night, and the prayer she said

Was, “God be kind to the noble boy,
Who is somebody’s son, and pride, and joy.”

Unknown – Taken from “The Ontario Readers Second Book”

I remember my Grandmother reading this poem to me. She had an old black binder with poems she had written out over the years, a few were her own but mostly they were ones that she had read or memorized and wanted to keep for future use. In 1979 the Minister of Education for Ontario authorized a reprinting of the Ontario Readers Second Book. My Grandma was excited to get this new copy of the old book so she could go back and reread all of the stories and poems. When she was in the one-room school house the original wasn’t even published yet! She must have had a similar reader. Anyway, inside the flap of the “new” copy it says: “This book is an exact facsimile of the second book which was authorized for use in Ontario schools from 1923 to 1937.” Below that statement it says: “Price 9 Cents” The price printed on this book does not represent the total cost, as an additional sum is paid to the publisher by the Department of Education.”
Something that I find particularly interesting is that in this “reader” there are Bible stories. Something that would be unheard of in a school book today! Maybe the country that we live in would be in better shape if we had kept the influence of the Bible in schools?! Now, parents have to spend big bucks to send their children to private, Christian schools in order to have a Biblical influence in the classroom.  It is becoming more and more difficult to express Chrisitanity anywhere, not just in schools. That is a whole other topic! 
This story of the old woman and young boy is touching and reminds me of the story of the Good Samaritan.
The man was robbed and beaten and left for dead on the side of the road. A priest walked by and went to the other side of the road. A Levite came along and he too walked to the other side of the road. A Samaritan came by and took compassion on the man when he saw him. He bound up his wounds, put him on his own donkey and brought him to an inn and took care of him. When went to leave, he gave the owner money to make sure that he was taken care of and promised to cover the expenses. The question is asked, “Which now of these three, thinkest thou, was neighbour unto him that fell among the thieves?” Luke 10: 30-36
The young man took note of the old woman and her situation and took time out of his fun to help her. I have to wonder how many young people today would do the same?
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Posted by on November 3, 2008 in Inspiration, Uncategorized


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