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SUNDAY WAS MOTHER’S DAY. It was a good day for me. Think I was instrumental in making it a little ^brighter for several mothers. Went to church and when the preacher asked the mothers to stand and be recognized, four men tried to claim that honor. Ha, ha. Was I embarrassed. My wife and I took a leisurely trip into the metropolitan area to spend the afternoon with her mother and sister, then to her daughter’s home, then to a church where we were fed and entertained by local talent. The church gave the dinner in honor of motherhood. We came home late, tired, but happy for the beauty V the day and an added bonus, a fluffy kitten I’ve named Peke. The^e have been mothers, many of them famous, down through the ages. One of them was a little 13 year old girl named Mary. I am told that in her language she called the little boy Yeshua, that he grew in statue, in favor with God and men. But, we are thinking of mothers at this time. Some maintain that Mary retained her womanly ‘purity’ all her life, that she never had wifely relations with her husband; that he respected her wishes, that she was finally absorbed (I believe the term is) into heaven without dying. Perhaps that is what the poet had in mind when he penned these lines—
“O spotless woman in a world of shame,
With splendid and silent scorn,
Go back to God as pure as y6u came—
The kingliest warrior born.
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