Sunday, May 12, 2013

SOMEBODY'S MOTHER

As we travel on roads at speeds once thought impossible and connect with cities in hours which once took months, the world seemingly has become smaller. With all the space narrowing blessings which come from the miraculous gifts we all share, we also realize that we have become a much more transient society where families often find themselves scattered over continents and around the globe. We are grateful for the gifts of communication which have blessed us with the ability of instant and continuous contact across the miles which separate us. Once we could only send our thoughts by electrical dots and dashes, then our voices were transmitted over wires, we have now become wireless and in ways Dick Tracy only dreamed about we Skype with one another through cyber space.

With all of these wonderful blessings which diminish our separations and give us some comfort on those special days identified on calendars throughout our homes, they will never replace the contact comfortableness which comes with the hugs of personal greetings. Even with all the wonders which help us stay connected, until we catch up with the dreamers of Star Trek and can instantaneously be transmitted from here to there, the distances of our transient society will leave many with unfulfilled feelings on special days.

Mary Dow Brine expressed what I am attempting to say in a poem entitled ‘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 the 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 crowd 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 her trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong.

Then back again to his friends 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."

Through the words the Savior spoke to John from the cross, we are reminded of an important principle, “Now there stood by the cross of Jesus his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary, the wife of Cleophas, and Mary Magdalene. When Jesus therefore saw his mother and the disciple standing by, whom He loved, He saith unto his mother, women behold thy son. Then he saith unto His disciple, behold thy mother. And from that hour that disciple took her unto his own home.” (John 19:25-27)

Unlike John our commitment to Somebody’s Mother will not be so demanding. It may only be a hand placed gently on a mother’s shoulder or a momentary loving embrace, but Somebody’s Mother, separated from loved ones on this special day, will have her life enriched because of somebody’s son or daughter who added her welfare to their busy schedule. Was not the Savior trying to teach us about the universal responsibility we have to love one another, which transcends immediate blood lines and connects us all into Heavenly Father’s eternal family.

These acts of kindness will be measured in nano seconds on the eternal scale, but Somebody’s Mother, separated from her own, will have her life made brighter because someone momentarily practiced the eternal principle of universal love.

8 comments:

  1. La Madre de Alguien, en el cercano "día" de las madres... y muy de acuerdo con nuestra conferencia sud de genealogia.

    Edgar Rafael

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  2. marabilloso el poema y grande la enseñansa ,gracias hermano por tan buenos mensajes .

    Marta Cristina Mujica

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  3. gracias querido hermano .para los seres amados.

    Alejandrina Torres Ruiz

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  4. An opinion follows, not a judgment:

    If John but responded to an admonition of The Savior with obedience, his service was a burden, his reward meager, and even if he faithfully carried it out without a hint of complaint, it ended with Mary's death.
    If on the other hand his response was joy to be granted this blessing, "my God (intentional expl), why didn't I dare to ask Him for this gift." (But it would have been presumptuous under the circumstances, don't you think?) I like to think that John received this as a gift to his heart. That his reward began immediately, lasted throughout his lifetime and though done without thought of further gain, his reward was eternal.


    Though one change ones habits, ones comrades, ones beliefs; for those things to really achieve God's purpose, make a difference, they must be to the end of achieving a change in one's heart,

    Because a man can be none other than a man is in his heart.

    Upon reading your epistle,
    It seems that way to me,

    Paul Maddox

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  5. Bill and Kathy
    You continue to be a weekly inspiration. Thank you for this beautiful message.
    I know you will enjoy a wonderful Mother's Day.

    Love,

    Sallie Russell

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  6. Loved it. Happy Mothers Day to your wife.

    Dolores LeSueur

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  7. Thank you for this beautiful Mother's Day Message!

    My reflections on my own mother, who died in 1974 are one of music, singing, always home when I opened the door to yell "mom". Her roll although very rough at times, was truly one of a beloved mother!

    Karen M. Perkins

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