Sunday, May 14, 2006
DOROTHY, MY MOTHER.....
My mother was born at home down at De Soto Bend of the Missouri River. She was the first of six children and was adored by her dad. She had her mother’s big brown eyes and would tag along behind him, barefoot, as he plowed the earth for their crops. He walked behind a single horse with a single plow.
She was born into a world of simplicity and lived in that world until she left us. Mom never had much in the way of worldly things…..her stark raising and early married life gave her much more than material things. She loved the land and was close to it as well as God’s creatures.
My brother and I were nurtured by a gentle mother. Our dad was hard-raised from an emigrant family and only knew hard work and hard times until later in life. As children we were balanced between the two, soft and hard, and it seemed to stick in both of us. Though we were not spoiled we were well taught and that served us both in years since.
If I were to describe my mother in one word, I would say…..gentle. She was a gentle spirit and safe harbor to come to when an unfriendly world closed in. Unassuming, she always stood back and let everyone else take their bows, content to let them have the limelight.
Her talents? No one could bake or cook as well, take a sick plant and place it in some dirt somewhere to nurture, or write a letter as well. Her brothers and sisters loved receiving her letters……long testimonies of her daily life in story form. Mom loved to read and mostly about pioneer days and Indian stories. She loved the call of the unknown and the bigness of the Wild West. Later, she traveled to many of the places she read about with our dad.
It was not uncommon to see her walking down the road with a loaf of fresh bread out of the oven or some flowers she’d picked to share. She always brought me her last rose of summer in a tiny little vase. That was my mother. It would never occur to her to keep it……only to give it to me. That’s what mothers do…….they give everything away that’s worthwhile…….
In honor of my little mother,
Essentially Esther
She was born into a world of simplicity and lived in that world until she left us. Mom never had much in the way of worldly things…..her stark raising and early married life gave her much more than material things. She loved the land and was close to it as well as God’s creatures.
My brother and I were nurtured by a gentle mother. Our dad was hard-raised from an emigrant family and only knew hard work and hard times until later in life. As children we were balanced between the two, soft and hard, and it seemed to stick in both of us. Though we were not spoiled we were well taught and that served us both in years since.
If I were to describe my mother in one word, I would say…..gentle. She was a gentle spirit and safe harbor to come to when an unfriendly world closed in. Unassuming, she always stood back and let everyone else take their bows, content to let them have the limelight.
Her talents? No one could bake or cook as well, take a sick plant and place it in some dirt somewhere to nurture, or write a letter as well. Her brothers and sisters loved receiving her letters……long testimonies of her daily life in story form. Mom loved to read and mostly about pioneer days and Indian stories. She loved the call of the unknown and the bigness of the Wild West. Later, she traveled to many of the places she read about with our dad.
It was not uncommon to see her walking down the road with a loaf of fresh bread out of the oven or some flowers she’d picked to share. She always brought me her last rose of summer in a tiny little vase. That was my mother. It would never occur to her to keep it……only to give it to me. That’s what mothers do…….they give everything away that’s worthwhile…….
In honor of my little mother,
Essentially Esther
