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Leadership. Character. Commitment. |
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May 08, 2003 |
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"In Honor of Mother's Day" |
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This Sunday is Mother's Day. For a few short hours, families will dust off a rarely used pedestal and attempt to pay homage to a woman who likely will
hop right back off that stand in order to straighten her husband's tie, apply a bandage to a skinned knee, pick up a mess, or do one of the countless other small tasks that keep a mother's hands in perpetual motion. This Sunday,
families may try to still those busy hands by serving mom a homemade breakfast in bed or taking her to a nice restaurant for brunch. They will shower her with cards, flowers, and presents in an attempt to say "thank you" for all the
hours she has labored over them. The cards smudged with small blurry finger-painted handprints will be especially savored, as will the bouquets of short-stemmed, wilting flowers plucked forcibly from weeds and beds in the
backyard by loving and determined children, and presented in lumpy homemade vases painted with the wild abandon of childhood joie de vivre. Each gift and each gesture, whether suggested to a youngster by a loving husband or father or
proffered by an awkward teenager who otherwise prefers his connection to the family be kept secret, will bring smiles, even tears, of gratitude. On Sunday, mothers will revel in each moment, delight over each expression of
caring, and give back tenfold, as they always do, the love offered from their most precious charge, their families. It does not matter whether she is a business executive, an hourly laborer, or an unpaid stay-at-home mom – the
best mothers invest the best of themselves in their families. They are high stakes brokers and we, their families, are the stocks on their exchange. They may spend many hours at work, but they still manage to make their
children feel loved, to make each house a home, and to create and sustain the traditions and customs that make each family unique. They enforce discipline on homework and at bedtime. They ice birthday cakes and pack
lunches. They cool fevered brows and beam at graduations. They set high standards and higher expectations. They glory in our successes and consol us in our defeats. Like ripples in a pond, their investment spreads across
the generations. The memories deep within each of us that connect us to our families are often closely linked to our mothers. From the food dishes that make each holiday special, to customs that range from the right way to fold
clothes to the way we choose to raise our own children, our mother lives on in us. It is up to us to live up to our mother's expectations, to be the kind of adults she always believed we could be. And if we simply try our best,
she will consider the return on her investment to be well met. I still remember, from growing up in a time when children memorized and recited poetry, particularly poetry that taught a lesson, the following poem by Margaret
Johnston Grafflin: Like Mother, Like Son Do you know that your soul is of my soul such a part, Remember the world will be quick with its blame, Be yours then the task, if task it shall be, An old adage avers that "As the twig is bent, so grows the tree." Countless studies have demonstrated the essential role that mothers play in family life, and
their role in shaping the personality of their children, for good or ill. I know from personal experience that a mother's influence reaches even beyond the grave. My own sweet mother died when I was just a year
old, leaving me to be raised by my aunt and uncle. But my mother's serene face shone, and still shines, from a photograph that I keep in my office. Ada Kirby Sale: I have always felt her gentle presence, her soft urging to
do my best to make her proud, to live the lesson of that poem. My mother died of influenza in 1918, during the great pandemic that took many millions of lives worldwide, her final struggle that of ensuring her baby's –
my – fate. As concerns of a SARS epidemic sweeping the globe make today's headlines, I fear that other children may also be similarly orphaned. If that is the sad case, I hope that these children may also be able to keep
their mother's memories and influence with them throughout their lives, as I have been fortunate to do. I hope, too, that other members of their families will be so willing to take them in and raise them as their mother's would have
wished, as my Aunt Vlurma and Uncle Titus did for me. They took me in, gave me a new name to share with them and to be proud of, and brought me to the land of my heart, if not my birth, West Virginia. West Virginia is the
birthplace of my wife, Erma Ora Byrd. As I have said before, and am happy to say again and again, she is a wonderful mother. The ripples of her influence have spread now to the third generation. We are the proud parents,
grandparents, and now great-grandparents of a brood of fine people, individuals that distinguish any group. Erma's investment in her family has paid off a hundred-fold. Good mothers are so special, so essential to our
families and our society, that I am especially gratified that the U.S. national celebration of mothers has its origins in the town of Grafton, West Virginia. The only surprise is that it is such as recent holiday, first established in
1907, when Miss Anna Jarvis of Philadelphia persuaded her mother's church in Grafton to celebrate Mother's Day on the second anniversary of her mother's death on the second Sunday in May. By the next year, Mother's Day was also being
celebrated in Philadelphia. By 1911, thanks to the efforts of Anna Jarvis and her supporters, Mother's Day was being celebrated in almost every state – there were only 46 of them in 1911. In 1914, President Woodrow Wilson
made the official announcement proclaiming Mother's Day a national holiday to be held on the second Sunday in May each year. It is a tribute to Ana Jarvis's mother that her daughter was so inspired, and so persevering. It
is an equal tribute to countless other wonderful mothers that Ana Jarvis' good idea spread so quickly. Today, Mother's Day is celebrated throughout the United States and in many other nations as well. Mother's day sprang
from a loving and loyal heart, not from the avarice of any executive of the greeting card industry, the floral delivery service, the chocolate candy manufacturers, or the restaurant business. And despite all the advertising
these days aimed at getting grateful families to spend money on ever-more extravagant gifts for Mother's Day, the warm and caring feelings that inspired the day remain central to the observance. I know that economists would like to
see more spending to boost the economy, but I am also sure that for most mothers, the best part of the day is the time spent with their families. The hugs and laughter of her children, the pride in them that she shares with her
husband – these are the gems in her crown and the gold in her vault. This Sunday, as each of us calls or visits our mother, or pauses to hold close her dear memory, we can savor the warmth and caring of her hugs and the
special accolade that was her smile of pride. I close with another old poem, by Elizabeth Akers Allen, that for me is forever linked with Mother's Day: Rock Me to Sleep. I offer it up to my mother, and to all
mothers. Rock Me to Sleep Backward, turn backward, O time, in your flight,
Backward, flow backward, oh, tide of the years! Tired of the hollow, the base, the untrue, Over my heart, in the days that are flown,
Come, let your brown hair, just lighted with gold, Mother, dear Mother, the years have been long |
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