When God created Mothers

The legend says that the day God created mothers, a messenger asked why He was being so careful with them.

Why was she so special?

The good and patient Father of all said that this woman would be the

mother, and that she deserved special care.

She had to have a kiss that cured everything, from small cuts to broken hearts.

She needed to have skilful and quick hands that were fast

preparing small snacks, while dealing with pots and pans so that

lunch would not get burnt.

She had to have a basic knowledge of nursery and had to be an expert in soul medicine.

So that she could apply dressings on bodies and put balsam in ulcers or broken and hurt souls.

Hands that knew how to caress, but firm enough to transmit security to her son still taking hesitant steps.

Hands that knew how

to transform

an insignificant piece of fabric into

special clothes for

that school party.

Because she would be a mother she should have many eyes. A pair to look through closed doors, for those moments when she asked herself what the kids were doing

in that locked bedroom.

Another pair to see what she shouldn't see but needed to know, and naturally, a pair to look at a

child in danger with tenderness and tell him or her: I understand you. Do not be afraid, I love you,  even

without saying a single word.

The model of a mother should also be able to convince a nine-year-old child to take a shower, a five-year-old child to brush his or her teeth and go to bed, when it is time to do it.

A delicate model surely, but a resilient one, to stand the strong winds of adversity and look after

her children, to overcome her own illness to protect her

beloved ones and to feed a family with the bread of love.

A woman with the capacity of making agreements with all different ages.

A woman with the capacity of throwing special tears of pain and sorrow and even then insisting that her son or daughter should leave in search of what must

constitute his or her happiness or mean his or her major progress.

A woman with special tears for the days of happiness and others for the sad days - times of disappointment and

solitude.

A woman with tender lips that knew how to sing lullabies and always had the right words

for the son that regretted the stupid things he had done.

Lips that knew how to talk about God, about the Universe and about love.

That could recite poems praising the beauty of the landscape and the enchantments of life.

A woman.A mother.

FORMATATION: Mima (Wilma) Badan

mimabadan@yahoo.com.br

MUSIC: Smile

With: Emile Pandolfi

IMAGES: Internet

www.mimabadan.blogspot.com

www.slideshare.net/mimabadan