Mothers Day. It's the one day set aside to honor the women who brought us into this world. Always the second Sunday in May, this year it's the 11th. What better month, what better day, what better time of the year than spring to celebrate, praise and honor our mothers.

Spring, when renewed life embraces all, is most appropriate. It's when yellow daffodils and multi-colored crocuses burst forth, awakening us from the doldrums of cold, bleak winters; when sleepy buds open their pale green eyes to the warm sun of spring; when young wildlife discover new worlds as they scamper about in the shadow their mother's protection. Divine Providence, in His perpetual wisdom, could not have chosen a better season. Consequently, it's only fitting that we do whatever possible, not only to impress upon our mothers our deep appreciation, but to honor them as well.

If you were raised by a mother, you're fortunate. However, look around. You may discover children who were not. I'm sure all those raised by just a father were subjected to the best he may have been able to provide. But let's face it. A father, no matter how good a "mother" he may have tried to be, is not a mother. And I'm not speaking biologically. I talking about the wisdom, love, protection and, most importantly, the guidance a child needs that can only be provided maternally. Perhaps that's why they were made stronger than men, why they were given the blessed position of being the child bearer and not surprisingly, why they live longer. Without a doubt, research has always maintained that woman are certainly not the weaker sex.

My mother gave birth to five girls and six boys. Yes, it was a large family, but we lived on a large farm in southeastern Pennsylvania's "Dutch" country. Mom passed on to all of us her skills in cooking, canning, baking and gardening needed to survive the 1940s, '50s and '60s. By the time the '70s arrived, we were all on our own with my youngest brother advancing his education at Penn State. At reunions we like to joke about how none of Mom's kids turned out bad; to which someone always adds, pointing to me or some other sibling, "But the jury's still out on you."

If heard by Mom, she might jokingly reply, "And if I hear of anyone of you whippersnappers embarrassing me, I'll take matters into my own hands." This always produced a bigger laugh from us than the original joking; even more so as she advanced in years.

Mom loves to sing. I can picture her years ago, sitting in a rocking chair in the cool of the evening on the back porch of the 100 year old farm house, usually with one or two little ones on her lap, singing to her heart's content. She loves hymns and other songs she learned as a young girl. Because we've heard them so many times and knew the lyrics as well as she did, she'd encourage a sing-along. They were our first lessons in harmonizing.

Mom's favorites hymns are, "The Old Rugged Cross," "Church In The Valley By The Wildwood" and "In The Garden." Secular songs include "Mare Eat Oats and Does Eat Oats," or, as it's sometimes written in Mondegreen, "Mairzy Doats and Dozy Doats," "The Great American Bum," a depression era song, and her very favorite, complete with sound effects, "The New River Train."

Recuperating from her second bout with pneumonia this past winter, she'll be 92 this August. At times she's still as feisty and frisky as she once was; that is, whenever she needs to be. That's usually the case whenever I drive down to visit her. I've always enjoyed joking and kidding with her, just to see if I can still instigate one of her classic reactions. Aware of my shenanigans, she puts up with them only so long, before informing me to either shape up or ship out.

If a second mortgage on the house wasn't needed to fill up the gas tanks, I'd drive back for a visit this weekend. Then again, after all she's done for us, a second mortgage is well worth it. It's been a while since I spent Mother's Day with her. I only hope and pray it won't be the last.

This one's for all mothers, and especially for you, Mom. Happy Mother's Day with love, and May God Bless!
 

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