This is copied from a blog of mine on MySpace. With Spring in the air, I have been thinking about this memory in particular, and wanted to share it on this blog also.
Every Mother's Day I am reminded of the year that the children were about eight and five and we were living in Virginia Beach, about eight hundred miles away from any close family that would have taken the kids to get their Mom a Mother's Day present. A few days before Mother's Day I had let them go play with another girl in the apartment complex. Evidently they had all snuck off from the little girl's mother, because an elderly lady of about sixty-five escorted them all home. They had raided her only prized rosebush and plucked all the roses from it, every last one. She said that she was outraged to find all her roses gone until the kids told her that they didn't have anyone to take them to get Mommy a gift, so they had decided to get me a pretty bouquet of flowers to let me know how much they loved me on my day. They were determined to find some way to let me know that I was important to them. She didn't have the heart to scold them for it after that, and was happy to contribute to the best Mother's Day gift ever. Stolen roses in the hands of a child are far more priceless than diamonds or gold!
1 comment:
That is so beautiful - definitely the best Mothers Day ever!
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