A SPIRITUAL SUNDAYS TRIBUTE TO MOTHER'S DAY

"The Mother in her office holds the key of the soul;
and she it is who stamps the coin of character."
-anon

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My mother, who boasted of no degree,
Was tutored in philosophy:

Five buttered beans within a pod
Were generosity from God;

A broom could sweep the shadows out;
Churning put many a fear to rout;

A young pear tree in bridal veil
Was beauty's triumph over the gale;

And every star that blinked on high
Was proof that, body and breath put by,

No darkness was so vast, so deep,
But that the Shepherd would find His sheep.
-John Robert Quinn

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Christ is the Head of this house,
The unseen guest at every meal,
The silent Listener to every conversation.
-Motto

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This last poem I dedicate to my maternal
Grandmother, Anna, who passed away in 1989
as this is what she did every Thanksgiving
when my father carved the turkey.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~Everyday Madonna~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
When Father carved our Christmas bird
And asked us each what we preferred,
As sure as summer follows spring
Came Mother's, "Please, I'll take the wing."

We children never wondered why
She did not sometimes take a thigh,
Or choose a drumstick or a breast,
We thought she liked a wing the best.

She said it with such easy voice,
It seemed so certainly her choice...
I was a man before I knew
Why mothers do the things they do.
-Richard Armour