A mother’s day experience
Today is Mother’s Day. Yesterday was a big shopping day; long lines, busy stores, and lots of fathers with small children in tow. It warmed my heart to see this interaction between child and father for the love of Mother with simple gifts. It hit at the root of adulthood; reminding me, It’s not the size of the gift, but the heart of the giver that moves Mother, the greatest gift we can give is our sentiment and it wrecked any such expensive gift I could choose for my own mother. I happened to overhear some of the conversations and couldn’t help but listen in and my own heart was moved, “What do you think she would like Pap?” a little girl fingering a small trinket on the shelf said while looking intensely for a gift. A father with three children acted as a mediator, “he should be able to pick out what he wants for mom with his own money”, the attentive and patient father coaxed the eldest, , mom burns plenty of candles, I’m sure she would like that.” Then there was the father holding tightly to a potted plant while each of his children held their own small flowering plant. Then there was the mother who whispered to the cashier, “can I leave my wagon here for a few moments, I just noticed my children are here shopping for me”, she giggled with delight. It’s such a sacred day where peoples become like children again; gifts are every child’s love language. A child wants to make mother happy; but they do so in such simple ways. I still have many of the cards and homemade gifts my children gave me when they were still decorated with the air of innocence; so precious was every misspelled word and elongated heart to express love in the only way a child knows how. Children believe the day to hold a little magic, and they invest in tiny tokens like amulets to summons Mom’s pleasure, and it works. I wondered as I wandered stores aimlessly searching for the perfect gift to purchase, as an adult I can purchase out of my abundance, it pangs me to know I have lost some of that childlike charm and devotion to the simple joys of giving. Perhaps i can get it back if even in my response; “she’s gonna love this.” One child whispered as he clutched onto a small bottle of peppermint body spray in one hand and a chocolate bar in the other; and she did.
my faith place 