(A letter to my mom. I hope you other mothers out there will also be encouraged. You’re winners, too.)
I know you’ve said before—many, many times—that you sometimes feel like you’re a complete failure. I’m sorry. I know I’m probably one of the ones that made you feel like that the most.
Even though I’m not a mother, I know it must be tough at times—especially when I, as the oldest, am grumpy. I know the others copy my example, and I try to have a good attitude. I’m sorry for the days that aren’t so good. And for all the days I complain to you.
I’d like to encourage you, though—don’t give up! You are making a difference, even if you can’t see it right now. We’re learning. We’re growing.
Each day you show us more of what it means to be like Jesus—yes, even through your exasperated sighs. Even though you’re annoyed—and yes, even a little cross when we break one of your jars—we know that underneath you still love us. A lot.
That love can only come from Jesus, because I can’t see any other way you’d ever be able to put up with us.
We love you, Mom. Yes, we hardly ever say it, but we do love you—and couldn’t imagine our lives without you.
Even if the laundry is still in that huge stack in the corner, we have plenty of clean clothes to wear.
Even though you still have no idea what we’re eating tonight, you somehow always manage to find something delicious to fill us with.
Even though we don’t want to do our schoolwork (I’m sorry, I still hate spelling), in later years we’ll be thankful for all that hard work and sweat you poured into each of us.
Even though we don’t always take your advice (yes, I’m thinking of that time I decided to make that huge Purim meal and didn’t have enough time), we still value your input.
Thank you for being the encyclopedia and dictionary for the family. That discussion on the gestation period of donkeys and whales was fascinating.
Thank you, too, for being a good example of stewardship—even when those apples and blackberries look like a lot of work.
Also, thank you so much for encouraging me to read and enjoy stories from little up—I still have fond memories of reading books before nap time. And exploring Grandma’s Attic together.
Above all, thank you for being a good example—even on those days when you’re feeling less than perky. I hope some of that can rub off on us children one day.
You’ve done a lot to mold us children into the people we are today, and I’ll be forever thankful. Thank you for your creative spirit, your humor, and your down-to-earth practicality. I wish the world had more people like you.
Thank you, Mom. You aren’t a failure — at all. You’re a winner who should have a crown.
Thank you for everything.