Behold,
Children are a heritage from the Lord,
The fruit of the womb is a reward.
Like arrows in the hand of a warrior,
So are the children of one's youth,
Happy is the man who has his quiver full of them.
More than once I have had strangers comment on my hands being full with my 4 children. One time I responded "I'd rather have my hands full than empty". This gave the man a pause as he looked at me, and he responded "Your right!"
I ran into an old high school friend around my home town and when she find out that I have 4 children she said "Why would you want four, I can't stand my two!" This was said right in front of those two little souls and it broke my heart. How horrible it must be for a child to hear that their mother wouldn't want to have more children because of them! And yet I have heard this from other mothers as well when they find out that we have more than one or two children.
Babies are an amazing blessing on our family and it will be a sad day when we don't have a little one toddling around. Our son Viking Boy was probably not put down for his first month of life. All the children competed on who's turn it was to hold him after Momma got done nursing or changing him. That year he was the toy of choice, especially for his older brother. All big brother wanted to do was play with and talk to his little friend.there was no jealousy or resentment, unless it was jealousy of getting to many turns holding the baby.
As a mother I treasure these times because they go by just too fast. I feel sorry and angry at other young mothers who push aside these amazing gifts as if they have no responsibility to care for them. What other thing could be more important than teaching and loving a new life?
The Hand that Rocks the Cradle
Blessings on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace,
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;
Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Infancy's the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mother's first to guide the streamlets,
From them souls unresting grow—
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Woman, how divine your mission
Here upon our natal sod!
Keep, oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!
All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky—
Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.
William Ross Wallace (1819-1881)
While fathers will appreciate this as well, only a mother will know the true emotion of this:
(author unknown to me)
After 21 years of marriage, I discovered a new way of keeping alive the spark of love. A little while ago I started to out with another woman. It was really my wife's idea. "I know that you love her," she said one day, taking me by surprise. "But I love YOU," I protested. "I know, but you also love her." The other woman that my wife wanted me to visit was my mother, who has been a widow for 19 years. The demands of my work and my three children had made it possible to visit her only occasionally. That night I called to invite her to out for dinner and a movie. "What's wrong? Are you okay?" she asked. My mother is the type of woman who suspects that a late night call or a surprise invitation is a sign of bad news. "I thought that it would be nice to spend some time with you," I responded. "Just the two of us?" She thought about it for a moment, then said, "I would like that very much." That Friday after work, as I drove over to pick her up I was a bit nervous. When I arrived at her house, I noticed that she, too, seemed to be nervous about our "date." She waited in the door with her coat on. She had curled her hair and was wearing the dress that she had worn to celebrate her last wedding anniversary. She smiled from a face that was a radiant as an angel's. "I told my friends that I was going to go out with my son, and they were impressed," she said, as she got into the car. "They can't wait to hear about our meeting." We went to a restaurant that, although not elegant, was very nice and cozy. My mother took my arm as if she were the First Lady. After we sat down, I had to read the menu. Her eyes could only read large print. Half way through the entrees, I lifted my eyes and saw Mom sitting there staring at me. A nostalgic smile was on her lips. "It was I who used to have to read the menu when you were small," she said. "Then it's time that you relax and let me return the favor," I responded. During the dinner we had an agreeable conversation - nothing extraordinary - but catching up on recent events of each other's life.
We talked so much that we missed the movie. As we arrived at her house later, she said, "I'll go out with you again, but only if you let me invite you." I agreed. "How was your dinner date?" asked my wife when I got home. "Very nice. Much more so than I could have imagined," I answered. A few days later my mother died of a massive heart attack. It happened so suddenly that I didn't have a chance to do anything for her.
Sometime later I received an envelope with a copy of a restaurant receipt from the same place my mother and I had dined. An attached note read: "Son, I paid this bill in advance. I was almost sure that I couldn't be there but, nevertheless, I paid for two plates - one for you and the other for your wife. You will never know what that night meant for me. I love you."
At that moment I understood the importance of saying, in time:
"I LOVE YOU" and to give our loved ones the time that they deserve. Nothing in life is more important than your family. Give them the time they deserve, because these things cannot be put off till "some other time."
Somebody said it take about six weeks to get back to normal after you've had a baby....somebody doesn't know that once you're a mother, "normal" is history.
Somebody said you learn how to be a mother by instinct....somebody never took a three-year-old shopping.
Somebody said being a mother is boring....somebody never rode in a car driven by a teenager with a driver's permit.
Somebody said if you're a "good" mother, your child will "turn out good." Somebody thinks a child comes with directions and a guarantee.
Somebody said "good "mothers never raise their voices. Somebody never came out the back door just in time to see her child hit a golf ball through the neighbor's kitchen window.
Somebody said you don't need an education to be a mother. Somebody never helped a fourth grader with his math.
Somebody said you can't love the fifth child as much as you love the first. Somebody doesn't have five children. [or eleven :-) ]
Somebody said a mother can find all the answers to her child-rearing questions in the books....somebody never had a child stuff beans up his nose or in his ears.
Somebody said the hardest part of being a mother is labor and delivery. Somebody never watched her "baby" get on the bus for the first day of kindergarten, or on a plane headed for military "boot camp."
Somebody said a mother can do her job with her eyes closed and one hand tied behind her back....somebody never organized seven giggling Brownies to sell cookies.
Somebody said a mother can stop worrying after her child gets married....somebody doesn't know that marriage adds a new son or daughter-in-law to a mother's heartstrings.
Somebody said a mother's job is done when her last child leaves home...somebody never had grandchildren.
Somebody said your mother knows you love her, so you don't need to tell her... that somebody isn't a mother.
