LEGACY'S LAMP

[A MOTHERS DAY TRIBUTE] 

Secret and hidden, there was a time when only God knew about me.
Crafted and fashioned, destined for His plans.

Before long my presence was felt not only in your being but also in your heart.
Secret and hidden there were your hopes and dreams for my life.

Anxiously and prayerfully you prepared.
Excitedly and nervously you welcomed.
Selflessly and completely you loved.

Hand sewn dresses and picnic baskets, braids, lullabies, costumes and bedtime stories.
I noticed the shades of your nail polish and memorised the freckles and lines on your face.

At a time when your opinion was my rock you led me in humility, simplicity and grace.

Through the good, through the bad, your love and your devotion remained consistent.

Spiritual and emotional strength for every season.
Even in personal lack you were always an answer to the broken in your world.

I noticed your responses and memorised life lessons taught in your word and your deed.

Secret and hidden, there was a time when only God knew what I was up to.
Crafted and designed were my plans and deceits in an effort to find myself.

I remember the glow from beneath your door as I snuck back into the house.
The tang of guilt as I went about my ways.
Knowing that someone who'd given everything was still, in early hours, giving everything.

At a time when your opinion weighed so little the gravity of your prayers weighed so much.

Secret and hidden were your petitions to God.
Your lamp went not out at night, and it led me home again.

When I felt those first movements of my unborn child, I thought of you.
Holding my infant in the midnight hours, I thought of you.

At the end of my rope, I thought of you, I called on you.
And yet again, still, as always, you responded and poured yourself out
for me and this life that now was entrusted to me.

And as I sit here writing, at the end of a bed where my little princess wrestles to find slumber,

I wonder what will she think of me one day?
What will she remember?
What will she draw her strength from?

When I stroke their hair, kiss their warm cheeks and whisper destiny into their sleepy ears,

Will they somehow catch the unending and desperately hopeful love of a mother towards her child?