Happy Mother's Day!

Q: Why did the cookie cry? A: Because his mother was a wafer so long!

Found in Cape Cod Life, July 2012, Words of Remembrance by Brain Shortsleeve

Best Loved Poems of the American People
My Mother's Prayer

As I wandered round the homestead,

  Many a dear, familiar spot

Brought within my recollection

  Scenes I'd semingly forgot.

There the orchard meadow yonder,

  Here the deep, old-fashioned well,

With its old moss-covered bucket,

  Sent a thrill no tongue can tell.

Though the house was held by strangers,

  All remained the same within,

Just as when a child I rambled

  Up and down and out and in.

To the garret dark, ascending,

  Once a source of childish dread,

Peering through the misty cobwebs,

  Lo, I saw my trundle bed.

Quick, I drew it from the rubbish,

  Covered o'er with dust so long,

When, behold, I heard, in fancy,

  Strains of one familiar song,

Often sung by dear mother

  To me in that trundle bed;

"Hush, my dear, lie still and slumber,

  Holy angels guard thy bed."

As I listened to the music,

  Stealing on in gentle strain,

I am carried back to childhood,

  I am now a child again.

'Tis the hour of my retiring,

  At the dusky eventide,

Near my trundle bed I'm kneeling,

  As of yore, by Mother's side.

Hands are on my head so loving,

  As they were in childhood's days;

I with weary tones am trying

  To repeat the words she says.

'Tis a prayer in language simple

  As a mother's lips can frame,

"Father, Thou who are in Heaven,

  Hallowed ever be Thy name."

Prayer is over, to my pillow,

  With a good-night kiss, I creep,

Scarcely waking while I whisper,

  "Now I lay me down to sleep."

Then my mother over me bending,

  Prays in earnest words but mild,

"Hear my prayer, O Heavenly Father,

  Bless, O bless, my precious child."

Yet I am but only dreaming,

  Ne'er I'll be a child again,

Many years has that dear mother

  In that quiet churchyard lain.

But the memory of her counsels

  O'er my path a light has spread,

Daily calling me to heaven,

  Even from my trundle bed.

~ T.C. O'Kane

Mothers' prayers never cease, despite age, distance, separation of realms of existence. Isn't that a reassuring thing to know on this Mother's Day.

Love you Mom. No cookie bouquet today - but will call you soon.

xo Auntie Nettie