Mothers' arms

When I was taking the sheets off the clothes line this afternoon I thought of the many times my mother tucked me into a bed with clean fresh sheets. I wonder how many hundreds of times she ran the diapers through the wringer washer and hung them on the line.

Often when I'm in the kitchen stirring up something sweet, like tonight when I made a cake from scratch for my Mom's birthday, I think of how it all started with "helping" Mom in the kitchen. Even when I was quite small, we'd pull up a chair to the counter for me to stand on so I could reach the counter. The best part of helping was licking the mixer beaters and the bowl.

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When I go past my little display of Girl Scout ephemera in the hall way I think of her involvement as a troop leader for me and my classmates and as a Cub Scout den mother for my brother. She was a part of all the merit badges we earned. I thought of how she wrote a letter to me at scout camp even though I was gone just a week.

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And all the snuggles and hugs, the comforting words, of immeasurable worth. Thanks Mom, for all you poured into my life. I know you loved being a mother and it has made such a difference in my life.

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Happy Birthday to you!

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"Mothers' arms are made of tenderness and sweet sleep blesses the child who lies therein."