This site is dedicated to my best friend - my mother. The unconditional love she has for
my sister and I, have made both of us feel we are the luckiest people in the world for having her as our mother.
It is believed that Motherís Day, 2nd Sunday in May was first recognized in 1907. Ana Jarvis, who was from Philadelphia, began a campaign to establish a national Mother's Day. Ms. Jarvis persuaded her mother's church in Grafton, West Virginia to celebrate Mother's Day on the second anniversary of her mother's death, the 2nd Sunday of May.
Six years later President Woodrow Wilson proclaimed the second Sunday in May for public observance of Motherís Day. It is now observed in countries all around the world, including England, France, Sweden, Denmark, India, China, and Mexico, where the celebration lasts 2 days. Carnations are the Motherís Day flowers: pink to be worn for a living mother and white if the mother has died. Children honor their mothers on this day with gifts, visits, and the wearing of carnations.
A Mother's Day Corsage
Red indicates your mother is alive
White indicates your mother passed away
Yellow indicates you're a Bereaved Mother.
* * * * *
A Mother's Day corsage
has a meaning of it's own.
Red is to honor a living Mom...
But White means she is gone.
A Mom with a Yellow Corsage,
says she is always in grief.
She lost the child she cherishes...
Her flowers make up a wreath.
But what about a Mom
who has no corsage to wear?
Does it mean her arms are empty?
Does it mean her life is bear?
If your Mother's Day corsage
is adorned with flowers of white,
Go find a Mom without a corsage...
And Make her Mother's Day Right.
Mothers must be angels on earth, always at hand to doctor scraped knees, boost dampened spirits, and guide us through the minor setbacks in life. They must be models of inspirations, patient counselors, and sterling examples. They must be everything to everybody.
As children age, they begin to realize the value of a mother's love and the enormous depth of her committment. No relationship we form can ever be as close or profound.
What Is A Mother?
A mother is someone to shelter and guide us, To love us, whatever we do, With a warm understanding and infinite patience And wonderful gentleness, too.
How often a mother means swift reassurance In soothing our small, childish fears, How tenderly mothers watch over their children And treasure them all through the years!
The heart of a mother is full of forgiveness For any mistake, big or small, And generous always in helping her family, Whose needs she has placed above all.
A mother can utter a word of compassion And make all our cares fall away, She can brighten a home with the sound of her laughter And make life delightful and gay.
A mother possesses incredible wisdom And wonderful insight and skill - In each human heart is that one special corner Which only a mother can fill!
By Katherine Nelson Davis
Sometimes in our lives we meet other mothers who are very special. Another mom in our lives is my better half's mom. She is so much like my own mother that
I can't help but love her! This page is also dedicated to Dolores.
A mother's arms are made of tenderness and children sleep soundly in them.
All that I am or hope to be I owe to my angel mother. I remember my mother's prayers and they have always followed me. They have clung to me all my life.
A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials, heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine, desert us when troubles thicken around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.
A mother had a slender, small body, but a large heart -- a heart so large that everybody's grief and everybody's joy found welcome in it, and hospitable accommodation.
The mother loves her child most divinely, not when she surrounds him with comfort and anticipates his wants, but when she resolutely holds him to the highest standards and is content with nothing less than his best.
--Hamilton Wright Mabie
A Mother's Day Thought
Today is Motherís Day
To honor you in a special way.
I thank you for all your love...
For all that you do and say.
I thank you for the warm hugs.
For cleaning my wounded knees.
I love you for always being there.
For being so easy to love & please.
I thank you for the many years
you worked to keep me fed.
I think about the unnecessary tears
that I caused you to shed.
I thank you for being a great chef.
Oh those pies you made for me.
I thank you for being the chauffeur
that took me places I wanted to be.
Oh those times you fixed my jeans
when I tore them on the playground.
It was so wonderful just to know...
Momma was always around.
Oh, Momma, look how time has passed us by.
I now have children of my own.
Itís just that today is YOUR day for me.
It doesn't change just because I'm grown!
This is for all the mothers who DIDN'T win Mother of the Year. All the runners-up and all the wannabes. The mothers too tired to enter or too busy to care.
This is for all the mothers who froze their buns off on metal bleachers at soccer games Friday night instead of watching from cars, so that when their kids asked, "Did you see my goal?" they could say, "Of course, wouldn't have missed it for the world," and mean it.
This is for all the mothers who have sat up all night with sick toddlers in their arms, wiping up barf laced with Oscar Mayer wieners and cherry Kool-Aid saying, "It's OK honey, Mommy's here."
This is for the mothers who gave birth to babies they'll never see. And the mothers who took those babies and
For all the mothers of the victims of the Colorado shooting, and the mothers of the murderers. For the mothers of the survivors, and the mothers who sat in front of their TVs in horror, hugging their child who just came home from school, safely.
For all the mothers who run carpools and make cookies and sew Halloween costumes. And all the mothers who DON'T.
What makes a good mother anyway? Is it patience? Compassion? Broad hips? The ability to nurse a baby, cook dinner, and sew a button on a shirt, all at the same time? Or is it heart? Is it the ache you feel when you watch your son or daughter disappear down the street, walking to school alone for the very first time? The jolt that takes you from sleep to dread, from bed to crib at 2 a.m. to put your hand on the back of a sleeping baby? The need to flee from wherever you are and hug your child when you hear news of a school shooting, a fire, a car accident, a baby
I think so.
So this is for all the mothers who sat down with their children and explained all about making babies. And for all the mothers who wanted to but just couldn't.
This is for all the mothers who mess up. Who yell at their kids in the grocery store and swat them in despair and stomp their feet like a tired 2 year old who wants ice cream before dinner.
This is for all the mothers who taught their daughters to tie their shoelaces before they started school. And for all the mothers who opted for Velcro instead.
For all the mothers who bite their lips-sometimes until they bleed-when their 14 year olds dye their hair green.
Who lock themselves in the bathroom when babies keep crying and won't stop.
This is for all the mothers who show up at work with spit-up in their hair and milk stains on their blouses and diapers in their purse.
This is for all the mothers who teach their sons to cook and their daughters to sink a jump shot.
This is for all mothers whose heads turn automatically when a little voice calls "Mom?" in a crowd, even though they know their own offspring are at home.
This is for mothers who put pinwheels and teddy bears on their children's graves.
This is for mothers whose children have gone astray, who can't find the words to reach them.
This is for all the mothers who sent their sons to school with stomach aches, assuring them they'd be just FINE once they got there, only to get calls from the school nurse and hour later asking them to please pick them up. Right away.
This is for young mothers stumbling through diaper changes and sleep deprivation. And mature mothers learning to let go.
For working mothers and stay-at-home mothers. Single mothers and married mothers. Mothers with money, mothers without.