Thank you for all of the times that we have shared,
For going to God and lifting my name up in prayer.

For all the birthdays you never forgot,
And all the sacrifices you made without a second thought.

For always being there in good times and bad,
And willingly sharing whatever you had.

Thank you doesn’t seem like enough to say,
And I know in my life time I can never repay.

All the things you have done for me,
But I hope in some small way you will see.

How grateful I am to God up above,
For sending me you my Mother to love.

Written & Submitted By:
© Eva Dimel

Music © Margi Harrell

“Do you like my dress?” she asked of a passing stranger.
“My mommy made it just for me.” She said with a tear in her eye.

“Well, I think it’s very pretty, so tell me little one, why are you crying?”

With a quiver in her voice the little girl answered.
“After Mommy made me this dress, she had to go away.”

“Well, now,” said the lady, “with a little girl like you waiting for her, I’m sure she’ll be right back.”

“No ma’am, you don’t understand,” said the child through her tears, “my Daddy said that she’s up in heaven now with Grandfather.”

Finally the woman realized what the child meant, and why she was crying. Kneeling down she gently cradled the child in her arms and together they cried for the mommy that was gone.

Then suddenly the little girl did something that the woman thought was a bit strange. She stopped crying, stepped back from the woman and began to sing.

She sang so softly that it was almost a whisper. It was the sweetest sound the woman had ever heard, almost like the song of a very small bird.

After the child stopped singing she explained to the lady, “My mommy used to sing that song to me before she went away, and she made me promise to sing it whenever I started crying and it would make me stop.”
“See,” she exclaimed, “it did, and now my eyes are dry!”

As the woman turned to go, the little girl grabbed her sleeve, “Lady, can you stay just a minute? I want to show you something.”

“Of course,” she answered, “what do you want me to see?”

Pointing to a spot on her dress, she said, “Right here is where my Mommy kissed my dress, and here,” pointing to another spot, “and here is another kiss, and here, and here,”
“Mommy said that she put all those kisses on my dress so that I would have her kisses for every boo-boo that made me cry.”

Then the lady realized that she wasn’t just looking at a dress, no, she was looking at a Mother… Who knew that she was going away and would not be there to kiss away the hurts that she knew her daughter would get.

So she took all the love she had for her beautiful little girl and put them into this dress, that her child now so proudly wore.
She no longer saw a little girl in a simple dress.
She saw a child wrapped…in her Mother’s love.

© Author Unknown

Happy Mother’s Day!

Music: ‘Pachelbel Canon’ © Bruce DeBoer

Mom’s smiles can brighten any moment,
Mom’s hugs put joy in all our days,
Mom’s love will stay with us forever
and touch our lives in precious ways…

The values you’ve taught,
the care you’ve given,
and the wonderful love you’ve shown,
have enriched my life
in more ways than I can count.

© Author Unknown

Music: ‘Sweet One’ © Bruce DeBoer

I Love You Mom!

A mother is a special person -
one whose love is always there,
one who sacrifices so very much -
just because she really cares.

A mother’s love is far extended -
ever present as we grow,
giving of herself unconditionally -
by what she does, and how it shows.

Always putting herself before others -
to meet her family’s every need,
never complaining of the burden,
of being the strength in each family.

Mom! this day that we celebrate -
in honor of your unselfish ways,
a tribute for all you’ve given -
we call it Mother’s Day!

And so a blessing is extended -
for, through God’s love you have been,
the greatest mom in all the world -
and most of all, a best friend.

May God bless you with His grace -
as you celebrate in a special way,
this day that is so special,
wishing you a happy Mother’s Day!

Written & Submitted By:
© Deacon Steve A. Politte

Music © Margi Harrell

Life has a way of finding time to look back on the past,
And reminisce about the days we thought would always last.
When you would hug and comfort me, and smile your special smile,
And always, when I needed help, you’d walk that extra mile.

Dear Mum, you loved and cared for me through all my childhood days,
Encouraged me when I was down, then lifted me with praise.
You always did believe in me, and always seemed so sure,
“As long as you just do your best, you can’t do any more”.

How quickly have the years flown past, now I am older too,
And when I look back through the years I’m thinking about you.
How kind and patient always through the days, the months, the years,
And how, with such a loving heart, you calmed my doubts and fears.

We also shared such happy times, much laughter I recall,
Whatever time we had to share, you gave to it your all.
I’m thankful that your love for me gave me that “special” start,
So when I say, “I love you Mum”, you know it’s from my heart.

Written & Submitted By:
© Jacqueline Ramm

Music © Margi Harrell

We are sitting at lunch when my daughter
casually mentions that she and her
husband are thinking of “starting a family.”
“We’re taking a survey,” she says, half-joking.
“Do you think I should have a baby?”
“It will change your life,” I say, carefully
keeping my tone neutral.
“I know,” she says, “no more sleeping in on
weekends, no more spontaneous vacations….”

But that is not what I meant at all. I look
at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her.
I want her to know what she will never learn in
childbirth classes. I want to tell her that the
physical wounds of child bearing will heal,
but that becoming a mother will leave her with an
emotional wound so raw that she will forever
be vulnerable.

I consider warning her that she will never
again read a newspaper without asking
“What if that had been MY child?” That
every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her.
That when she sees pictures of starving
children, she will wonder if anything could
be worse than watching your child die.

I look at her carefully manicured nails and
stylish suit and think that no matter how
sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will
reduce her to the primitive level of a bear
protecting her cub.

That an urgent call of “Mom!” will cause her
to drop a souffle or her best crystal without
a moment’s hesitation.

I feel I should warn her that no matter how
many years she has invested in her career,
she will be professionally derailed by motherhood.
She might arrange for childcare, but one day
she will be going into an important business
meeting and she will think of her baby’s sweet
smell. She will have to use every ounce of her
discipline to keep from running home,
just to make sure her baby is all right.

I want my daughter to know that everyday
decisions will no longer be routine.
That a five year old boy’s desire to go to
the men’s room rather than the women’s at
McDonald’s will become a major dilemma.
That right there, in the midst of clattering trays
and screaming children, issues of independence and
gender identity will be weighed against the
prospect that a child molester may be lurking in
that restroom.

However decisive she may be at the office,
she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother.
Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to
assure her that eventually she will shed the
pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the
same about herself. That her life, now so important,
will be of less value to her once she has a child.
That she would give it up in a moment to save her
offspring, but will also begin to hope for more
years– not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch
her child accomplish theirs.

I want her to know that a cesarean scar or
shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.
My daughter’s relationship with her husband will
change, but not in the way she thinks. I wish she could
understand how much more you can love a man who is
careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to
play with his child. I think she should know
that she will fall in love with him again for
reasons she would now find very unromantic.

I wish my daughter could sense the bond she
will feel with women throughout history who
have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving.

I hope she will understand why I can think
rationally about most issues, but become
temporarily insane when I discuss the threat of
nuclear war to my children’s future.

I want to describe to my daughter the
exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike.
I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby
who is touching the soft fur of a dog or a cat for
the first time.

I want her to taste the joy that is so real, it
actually hurts.

My daughter’s quizzical look makes me realize
that tears have formed in my eyes.
“You’ll never regret it,” I finally say.

Then I reach across the table, squeeze my
daughter’s hand and offer a silent prayer for her,
and for me, and for all of the mere mortal women
who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings.

This blessed gift from God . . . that of being a Mother.

© Author Unknown

Music © Author Unknown

My most beautiful love in every way
No flower grown, or written word can convey
How much I love you and how
Forever in my heart you will stay

Your love for me unconditional
Your ways forgiving and kind
And for a mother I”m so grateful
God made you mine

From timeless lullabies and nursery rhythms
On every quest and journey
Your heart and prayers
Have faithfully followed me

In all the stages of my life
You have been a certainty
Holding on when necessary
Realizing when to set me free

You have tended to my every
Motherly need
Of my morals,values,and beliefs
You have planted and nurtured every seed

The test of motherhood you have
Passed with flying colors
My most beautiful love in every way
I proudly call you mother on this day and any other

Written & Submitted By:
© Doris E. Pearce

Music: ‘Your Smile’ © Yuko Ohigashi