My Mom has always (firmly) said:
"No body loves you like your mother."
I now say this as well. It is a correct statement, whether you're on the receiving end or the giving end of it.
Can I hear an "amen" out there?
(Happy Mother's Day, Mom!)
I could elaborate on my own mother and my own brood with a bunch of flowery sentiments, but I'll just let it at that.
One thing right now that makes me smile...it might make you smile today too: I've not been gathering our chicken eggs in hopes that a hen might decide to set. Well, I peeked in the coop the other day, and one of my white, fluffy-and-slightly-ridiculous, silkie hens was hunkered down over the eggs, with wings spread in motherly, steadfast determination.
"I won't bother you," I whispered.
And something from Frances Hodgson Burnett's book, The Secret Garden, that I found to be especially tender:
In the robin's nest there were Eggs and the robin's mate sat upon them keeping them warm with her feathery little breast and careful wings. At first she was quite nervous and the robin himself was indignantly watchful.
Even Dickon did not go near...but waited until...he seemed to have conveyed to the soul of the little pair that in the garden there was nothing which was not quite like themselves- nothing which did not understand the wonderfulness of what was happening to them- the immense, tender, terrible, heart-breaking beauty and solemnity of Eggs.
If there had been one person in that garden who had not known...that if an Egg were taken away or hurt the whole world would whirl round and crash through space and come to an end- if there had been even one who did not feel it and act accordingly there could have been no happiness even in that golden springtime air.
But they all knew it and felt it and the robin and his mate knew they knew it.
Happy Mother's Day, All!