A young mother I knew

I was going through old pictures the other day and found this one of my mom and I from when I was almost a year old. The inscription on the back notes that it was my first Easter, and that my mom had made the matching dresses we are wearing:o)

My first thought was: "Wow! Too bad I never learned how to sew (very well). Maybe I should learn...it would be nice to sew sweet little dresses for my girls (Lord willing) someday." I'm majorly impressed by women who can sew. I'm even more impressed by young mothers who manage to add something as thoroughly difficult (in my opinion) as sewing to their busy schedules.

My second thought was: "Either Mom was using some serious hairspray in this picture, or else it's just the shadows making her hair look so full and fluffy." Believe me...under normal circumstances, it would be pretty much impossible for her hair to look like that...I've inherited that hair, and I know!

Then, my thoughts began to drift, and I began to wonder what my mom's experience of motherhood was like in those early years. From reminiscences I've been party to, I've deduced that I wasn't always the perfect little baby, and things weren't always as easy as they appear in this picture!

As a new mother with a six-week old baby, my mom was uprooted from the Midwestern state she'd lived in since birth and transplanted to the "foreign country" of Texas. No friends or family nearby. No older woman to come alongside and give advice and support. Apparently, I did know how to be fussy, and I was also rather independent (ie, not Ms. Snuggles!). So I'm sure I didn't "give back" in the ways that warm a young mother's heart--cuddling contentedly in her arms, and begging to receive her attention and comfort.

In the years that followed, two more little girls joined our family, and new struggles arose. I'm sure I don't know or understand half of what my mom has gone through as a wife and mother and woman over the years. But I do know that no matter what trials she encountered, my mom has been faithful to her calling as a woman who loves her family and gives herself up for us. She was always there, and she was always giving, whether I appreciated it or not.

The woman in this picture, youthful and vibrant, could have taken on the world and nobody would have called her selfish. In fact, she might have garnered much praise for "accomplishing something important and wonderful," instead of passing her days away on a fussy babies. But she chose to share her days of youth and energy with ME. She chose to give me everything when I couldn't give back. To this day, she still gives me much more than I can ever repay.

Should I have babies of my own, I don't know if I will ever have the skill to sew precious little outfits for them. But I pray that I will have even half of the patience, love and creativity that my Mom put forth in her vocation as wife, mother, teacher and homemaker. I hope I won't give up when the going gets rough. I hope I will somehow attain the willingness to live for others day in and day out, in the hopes that I can pour true meaning and love into someone's life the way my mother did into mine. What a daunting example to strive after!

(Mom, if you read this, I hope I've sufficiently embarrassed you:o)