by Noella Noelophile®
(Royalty-free image by Mohamed Nuzrath from Pixabay.)
This Mother’s Day weekend, an image of my childhood bedroom is coming to mind.
By the window is a bookcase, filled with Little Golden Books. (Remember those?)
Near the bed sits the record player, with then-popular 78-rpm records.
Across the room is my desk, a smooth, medium wood with two drawers.
And on the windowsill are pots and pots of my mother’s African violets.
All of the above sum up the gifts my mother gave–by being who she was.
(Royalty-free image by Noname13 from Pixabay.)
We didn’t have a lot of money. But Mom knew the value of beauty–in the written word, music and flowers.
She had a reverence for education, and a determination that I would get to go to college.
Once, I remember asking her, “Are we poor?” while looking out the window of our apartment in a large housing project in New York.
Her answer spoke volumes.
(Royalty-fre image by Kati from Pixabay.
“We’re rich. We have enough to eat, we’re healthy and we have each other.”
Living in a twenty-first century world where all too often, compassion, honesty and intelligence appear to take a back seat to financial gain, I appreciate her gifts much more today.
Happy Mother’s Day, Mom. I miss you. May every child receive the gifts of literacy, compassion, and an opportunity for a future, which you gave with love.