MOTHER...

I would love to relive just one day with each of my children at this age... oh, but I do get to, in a way - 8-month old grandbabyboy!

1987

1989

1992

A couple of months late, but I recently found this and have to share:
"Poems To Read Every Mother's Day" From Carla ( I think she was 11/12 at the time)
Added at the bottom:
"Please excuse the late notice!"

Then follows some poems and writings about mothers and on the last page a poem by Carla:

What is the first thought that comes to ones mind
When they hear the word Mother
I think of a person who is patient
So patient that they put all their time into raising you
Making sure that you will some day be able to fly out into the world
And leave the nest
But then as you are ready to fly away
They are not ready
They hold on

I think of the person who wipes that ice cream smudge off your shirt
Making sure that you will some day be able to wipe it off yourself
With some tide-to-go of course
But then as you are older and then make that silly mess on your shirt again
You then try and wipe it off
Then with a quick reaction,
Mother comes along an dabs some tide-to-go on the mess
With satisfaction Mother smiles and then straightens up your shirt
But of course you roll your eyes and unstraighten your shirt

I think of the person who cooks you a meal every day
Then as you get older they teach you how to cook a meal for your family someday
But then as you are cooking for your family
Mother comes along into the kitchen
And adds some salt to the soup...

But most of all
I think of the person to put the band-aid on the wound
Always there to give you a hug
Always there to talk to
And when you are older
She is always there as a friend BUT also as a Mother

And that is what I think of when I hear the word Mother.

I just had to quote this...

From DJP's http://bibchr.blogspot.com/

"When our Lord and Master, Jesus Christ, said "Repent", He called for the entire life of believers to be one of repentance" (Martin Luther, thesis #1 of 95)

"Repentance means turning from as much as you know of your sin to give as much as you know of yourself to as much as you know of your God, and as our knowledge grows at these three points so our practice of repentance has to be enlarged" (Keep in Step with the Spirit [Revell: 1984], 104)

Spesiaal Vir Ons Familie Tuis:

Here and There...

Moedersdag/Mother's Day

Geseende Moedersdag vandag en elke dag aan my Mam, Skoonma, Ouma, en al die ander Ma's oral.
A blessed Mother's Day today and every other day to my Mom, Mother-in-Law, Ouma and all Moms.


Ek hou hierdie gediggie al jare, kan nie onthou waar ek dit gekry het nie, maar dis steeds vir my mooi:

Meimaand is Ma-Maand (Maretha Maartens)

Dis Meimaand, Mammie, en oral
hoor ek woorde
wat meteens so mooi met m begin:
moeder, middelpunt, mededoe,
messelaar van my menswees.
Dis winter en die wind bly fluister:
waardeer, waardeer,
waardeer haar meer.

Geskenkpapier is geredelik
bekombaar, Ma
maar wat ek wil gee,
kan eintlik net met 'n knop in die
keel
en in die gesproke of geskrewe
woord verpak word:
al die dankies wat Ma nie
ontvang het nie
omdat ek hulle nooit
uitgespreek het nie;
al die vergewe my's waarvan
die prys
vir my destyds heeltemal
buitensporig was;
al die aanraak wat ek vermy
het,
al die liefde wat ek nie uitgeleef
het nie,
al die berou waarvan Ma nie
weet nie,
al die getuigskrifte wat ek self
vir Ma wou skryf

want in my le die neerslag van
Ma se adel en sorg;
onder my voortsnellende voete
voel ek steeds die fondament
wat Ma lank gelede met
vakmanskap gele het.

Dis Meimaand, Mammie, en ek
kniel voor God
om vandag met al die liefde van
'n dankbare dogter se hart
die keur van Sy seen oor u af te
bid.

A LOVELY SURPRISE!

No, it's not me blogging that is the surprise...

Yesterday as I was getting the wall-to-wall-carpeted rooms (I am NOT a fan of wall-to-wall carpets, but that's another post) in our home ready for the professional carpet cleaners, a Fed-Ex truck drove up and delivered a nice big package with my name on it.

I was a little worried, wondering if I had ordered something and totally forgot about it, or did some company just decide to send me a package hoping I will keep and pay for it?

My name was spelled wrong and the return address an unfamiliar place in Ontario, so I decided to finish preparing the rooms and leave the opening for later; but of course the package kept calling my name, sitting there so big and "juicy" and I opened it.

After struggling a bit with the taping and cardboard and plastic wrap, a big frame with nothing but a white piece of styrofoam taped to the front was revealed.

I recognized my sister's handwriting on the styrofoam, saying she did not send the glass but will email me the dimensions. Upon tearing away the of styrofoam there was a small plastic bag with yellowed paper clippings, a card addressed to my husband and me, and a small beaded handbag taped to the front. (Another day's post.)

My first thought was that, of course, the South African Post Office somehow got the picture or whatever was in the frame lost or stolen and then it was repackaged in Canada and that's why there was no familiar return address.

After a bit of fuming and wondering how I'm going to tell my sister that whatever she had sent as a lovely surprise for me was lost, I discovered a beautiful watercolour painting of Nguni cattle, by V.J. McGill between two hardboard coverings, which looked like just one thick piece of hardboard.

The painting fits perfectly above the sitting room fireplace (which, by the way, we have not used once since moving in 15 months ago...skande) and I still can't stop admiring it! (It was painted in 1999, before Nguni cattle and hides became all the rage, at least in South Africa.)

So you think a cow is a cow is a cow? South Africa's indigenous Nguni cattle, long the mainstay of traditional Zulu culture, are possibly the most beautiful cattle in the world, with their variously patterned and multicoloured hides everywhere in demand. (I am borrowing these sentences from somewhere on the web, but I can't find the place again, in order to give credit where credit is due; anyway, it describes Nguni cattle much shorter and sweeter than I would be able to.)



The mystery of the misspelling of my name and the unknown return address was revealed after a call to Sister Skitter; her father-in-law passed away the week after Easter and one of her B-i-L's who lives in Toronto, went to South Africa for the funeral; he kindly brought the painting back to Canada and then had it Fed-Exed to me.

Thanks Sus Skitter and B-i-L!(Thank Andy for me, please.)

From Sillie Lizzie's Rock:

I'm not American, but I love reading Sillie Lizzie's blog, no fuzzy feel-goodness there, just straight out telling it like it is. She's from Cuba originally, go read her interesting blog, about politics and faith. Here is her post for today:

Sillie Lizzie's Rock: A Parable of Socialism, the Nation Killer#links#links

A Parable of Socialism, the Nation Killer
No one who has spent more than 20 minutes on this blog can fail to notice that I am the enemy of socialism, communism, liberalism, collectivism, progressivism, totalitarian or anarchist, or whatever shape shifting disguises the fascist left assumes. No matter whether they masquerade as secular or religious or even Christian, its all the same vile ideology at the essential core - bankrupt, worthless and denigrating of the essential human dignity of every individual. And that's without getting into why it as an affront against the Creator who is Holy above all. If that is you, dear reader, repent, change your mind and receive mercy. Otherwise, hell can't be too hot for those who destroy nations, societies, families, and the souls of individual people."What?!" says you. "How are we guilty of all that?". Well, here is a parable of socialism, a very simple economic one that a five year old child can grasp, which is about all that today's university indoctrinated young-skulls-full-of-mush can handle. A tiny spoonful only, okay?

An economics professor at Texas Tech said he had never failed a single student before but had, once, failed an entire class. The class had insisted that socialism worked because it's a great equalizer ... No one would be poor and no one would be rich.
The professor then said, "OK, we will have an experiment in this class on socialism. All grades would be averaged." Everyone would receive the same grade, so no one would fail and no one would receive an A.
After the first test, the grades were averaged and everyone got a B. The students who studied hard were upset and the students who studied little were happy.
But, as the second test rolled around, the students who studied little had studied even less and the ones who studied hard decided they wanted a free ride too; so they studied little. The second test average was a D ... No one was happy.
When the third test rolled around, the average was an F. The scores never increased as bickering, blame , and name calling all resulted in hard feelings; no one would study for anyone else.
All failed to their great surprise and the professor told them that socialism would ultimately fail because the harder you work to succeed the greater the reward, but when a government takes all the reward away; no one will try or succeed.

Okay, Smarty Pants College Student. Don't think it could happen here? Let's put it to the test on you. Cash your pay check, or the check that Mom and Dad mailed you for support. Go down to the projects in your city and give it to the first welfare recipient you see. No? Well, then why did you agree to let the government take it FROM ME to give it to them, unless you are willing to take it out of your own pocket? And you, Aunt Welfare Check. Take your food stamps and go down to the mobile home camp where the lottery players live and give it to them. No? Then why are you willing to let the government take it FROM ME to give to you for food stamps, unless you are willing to take it out of your own pocket? And you, Lottery Queen. Did you hit the Fantasy Five this week? Take a lump sum distribution and come to my house and GIVE ME MY DAMN MONEY BACK. No? Well, guess what. I'm not working anymore. I'm not producing anything that your Liberal Masters can tax, spend and give to you. So, LET'S ALL GO HUNGRY, OKAY?
Labels: Communism, Marxism, Socialism