During our recent trip to Missouri, we made a visit to Adam-Ondi-Ahman where ancient and modern scriptures say Adam, the first man, three years prior to his death gathered his righteous posterity in this valley to pronounce a blessing upon them. He also prophesied about the Messiah Jesus Christ and about the future of mankind.
In that sacred and silent place, I thought about our first parents Adam and Eve and their time in mortality. The Tree of Life, the cherubim and flaming sword placed there to guard it and keep man from partaking of the fruit and living forever in their sins. The need for a Savior to redeem us.
The valley is configured in a natural amphitheater that allows sound to travel across the area, allowing a large group to hear a speaker.
I thought about Eve and wondered what she endured to bear children and teach them righteousness and then to lose Cain and Abel. How she must have labored with Adam to provide shelter, food, clothing and the necessities of life. How she must have marveled at the children she bore and nursed and nurtured. What a wonderful woman she must have been to be entrusted with the establishment of the human race. And that through her, we are all related. Happy Mother’s Day Eve and all of her beautiful daughters.
As many of my readers are aware, my own Mother passed away last year, the day before Easter. Without Mom to fuss over, Mother’s Day is difficult. I wrote this poem years ago, thinking of my Mom, Grandmas, aunts, friends and others who have enriched my life. I’m sharing it again to remind all of us of the love, work and time that go into rearing children, supporting our husbands and building church and community.
To Mother, Grandmother, Aunt, Sister, friend and precious women
Who give life,
nurture and give joy.
Who bled and fed and hid Easter eggs,
and wrapped gifts and dyed Halloween costumes.
Who took me to the zoo
and Disneyland,
and grew pumpkins,
and taught me to play chess
and feed my babies.
Who taught me to write thank you notes
And have good manners
and remember birthdays
and ancestors (and love them). And gave me crayons
and dolls
and retainers
and fishnet nylons
and a radio to take to the beach.
Who took me to visit my grandparents
and on road trips
and swimming
and had a barbecue.
Who taught me to pray
and love
and find joy
and set a beautiful table.
And to watch out for little ones,
and spell correctly,
and feed stray kittens,
and read books.
And to try,
and fail,
and try again.
Who found our great grandfathers were kings
and great grandmothers were queens.
Who took pictures,
and listened as I learned to read,
and filled a piñata.
And eat Thanksgiving at the beach like Pilgrims,
and go on bike rides,
and read Luke on Christmas Eve,
and sing carols,
and find treats in my stocking.
To share with those in need,
and love art and beauty,
and wear bows in my hair
and shoes that fit,
and remember God and go to church.
Who sewed clothes,
and prayed for soldiers,
and firemen,
and missionaries, and me.
Who baked cakes
and arranged flowers,
and made 20,000 meals,
and made me brush my teeth.
And bought sugar sticks,
and made drawings,
and bread,
and Beef Stroganoff.
And soothed wounded hearts,
and took us to movies,
and to the woods,
and the sea.
And played
and prayed
and gave time
and love
and life.
Thank you.
