Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Somebody's Mother

Since my own mother went to heaven in 2002, I am often struck by the thought of her when I see an elderly woman and think, "That could be my mother." Back when my mother was with us, I would often pray, "Lord, please watch out for her and when I am not around, may someone else's son help her when she needs help." Thankfully, my mother was never left alone to fend for herself and I am grateful for the help of our father, siblings, and others who made her journey through life easier through her final years. I always try to be attentive and aware of opportunities to return the favor, and this old poem reminds me:

Somebody's Mother

The woman was old and ragged and gray
And bent with the chill of the Winter's day.
The street was wet with a recent snow
And the woman's feet were aged and slow.
She stood at the crossing and waited long,
Alone, uncared for, amid the throng
Of human beings who passed her by
Nor heeded the glance of her anxious eye.
Down the street with laughter and shout,
Glad in the freedom of 'school let out,'
Came the boys like a flock of sheep,
Hailing the snow piled white and deep.
Past the woman so old and gray
Hastened the children on their way.
Nor offered a helping hand to her—
So meek, so timid, afraid to stir
Lest the carriage wheels or the horses' feet
Should crowd her down in the slippery street.
At last came one of the merry troop,
The gayest lad of all the group;
He paused beside her and whispered low,
"I'll help you cross, if you wish to go."
Her aged hand on his strong young arm
She placed, and so, without hurt or harm,
He guided the trembling feet along,
Proud that his own were firm and strong.
Then back again to his friends he went,
His young heart happy and well content.
"She's somebody's mother, boys, you know,
For all she's aged and poor and slow,
And I hope some fellow will lend a hand
To help my mother, you understand,
If ever she's poor and old and grey,
And her own dear boy is far away."
"Somebody's mother" bowed low her head
In her home that night, and the prayer she said
Was, "God be kind to the noble boy,
Who is somebody's son, and pride and joy!"

"Somebody's Mother" by Mary Dow Brine. Public domain.