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Originally posted by Celia Vogel
The young mother set her foot on the path of life.
"Is this the long way?" she asked.
And the guide said: "Yes, and the way is hard. And
you will be old before you reach the end of it. But
the end will be better than the beginning."
But the young mother was happy, and she would not
believe that anything could be better than these
years. So she played with her children, and gathered
flowers for them along the way, and bathed them in the
clear streams; and the sun shone on them, and the
young Mother cried, "Nothing will ever be lovelier
than this."
Then the night came, and the storm, and the path was
dark, and the children shook with fear and cold, and
the mother drew them close and covered them with her
mantle, and the children said, "Mother, we are not
afraid, for you are near, and no harm can come."
And the morning came, and there was a hill ahead, and
the children climbed and grew weary, and the mother
was weary. But at all times she said to the
children," A little patience and we are there." So the
children climbed, and when they reached the top they
said, "Mother, we would not have done it without you."
And the mother, when she lay down at night looked up
at the stars and said, "This is a better day than the
last, for my children have learned fortitude in the
face of hardness. Yesterday I gave them courage.
Today, I have given them strength."
And the next day came strange clouds which darkened
the earth, clouds of war and hate and evil, and the
children groped and stumbled, and the mother said:
"Look up. Lift your eyes to the light." And the
children looked and saw above the clouds an
everlasting glory, and it guided them beyond the
darkness. And that night the Mother said, "This is
the best day of all, for I have shown my children
God."
And the days went on, and the weeks and the months and
the years, and the mother grew old and she was little
and bent. But her children were tall and strong, and
walked with courage. And when the way was rough,
they lifted her, for she was as light as a feather;
and at last they came to a hill, and beyond they could see a shining
road and golden gates flung wide.
And mother said: "I have reached the end of my
journey. And now I know the end is better than the
beginning, for my children can walk alone, and their
children after them."
And the children said, "You will always walk with us,
Mother, even when you have gone through the gates."
And they stood and watched her as she went on alone,
and the gates closed after her. And they said: "We
cannot see her, but she is with us still. A Mother
like ours is more than a
memory. She is a living presence."
Your Mother is always with you. She's the whisper of
the leaves as you walk down the street; she's the
smell of bleach in your freshly laundered socks; she's
the cool hand on your brow when you're not well. Your
Mother lives inside your laughter. And she's
crystallized in every teardrop.
She's the place you came from, your first home; and
she's the map you follow with every step you take.
She's your first love and your first heartbreak, and
nothing on earth can separate you... Not time, not
space...not even death
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