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PatchWork |
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PatchWork |
Last Updated 09/06/05
Email: joy@our-town.com
“Thou art thy mother’s glass
and she in thee calls back the lovely
Blanche Rebecca Avaritt Chandler gave us so much to remember because her life was a
kaleidoscope of activity. By following her we
became involved in life, thinking of every day as a learning experience. She taught us to adjust to anything.
“Whatever life brings, bring it
on”, would have been her motto if she had thought about it.
As with most mothers, she did a lot of living through her children, sharing every
success and disappointment, encouraging, complimenting, seldom scolding, never nagging. She did however have definite rules of behavior
and set patterns for us, which she expected us to follow.
I remember the first time she look me in the eye, her dark eyes a mirror of her
own, and said in a level voice, “Always remember who you are!” I knew exactly what she meant by that advice and I
would have been shamed into exile if I had ever forgotten.
She meant that I was a part of a whole family, which included aunts and uncles,
cousins and a grandmother. We were Christian,
law abiding citizens who worked hard and played by the rules. She wanted me to know that I would always be
expected to behave in a manner that would not bring criticism on the family. And you know what?
That one phrase has kept me from wandering off down dark trails more than once.
Mother influenced my live in hundreds of ways.
I might have been a Christian if she had not been but I am glad that I didn’t
have to chance it. My first memories of my
mother are those of the big white cane-bottom rocker, me in her lap and her voice reading. She read stories from Genesis and Exodus and all
the other books of the Bible. There was no
Bible storybook. “We don’t need
one.” She said. “We have God’s
word.”
If I didn’t understand some of the passages, she stopped and explained them
and then we discussed the children of Israel, the plagues of Job, Christ’s life on
Earth. The Bible was something that I
understood as well as any other book. There were other books, though not dozens like the
great-grandchildren have today. We had a few choice books of fairy tales and Mother Goose
Rhymes that were read so often, I knew if somebody read a word wrong.
In those days farmer’s wives helped in the fields or with the livestock when
needed just as wives do today. When Mother
went to the field to help chop cotton, I took great pride in having dinner on the table
when they got in from the field. She had
taught me to cook and there was pride in having fried chicken and hot biscuits (not out of
a can) ready to serve my tired parents, when I was nine years old. I give no credit to myself but all the credit to
the mother who taught me I could do anything I wanted to do.
I remember when the Parent-Teacher Association was organized at our school and
Mother said she would come. I looked for her
when school was out and there she was, wearing her old brown hat and a dress that was a
little out of style but her smile reaching me across the heads of my classmates brought
joy to my heart. She was elected president of
the new organization that day and we walked home together hand in hand.
There followed plays and programs, picnics, shows, parties and of course church
services. She was always there, never too
tired, never too busy never too sick to sit up half the night making a new dress for me or
baking a cake, or helping with homework.
Achievements always meant so much more because she enjoyed them and gloried in
them, multiplying my own pleasure. She was so
proud when I graduated college and pleased when I taught school and encouraging when I
started writing for publication. One of the
best memories I have is showing her a story I had sold to a magazine, a story about her
incidentally. She was in the hospital and so
sick but she read the story and her smile was one of the last she was ever able to give.
My mother’s life was not much different from the lives of young mother today
who work because of economic necessity or because they feel it best for their own
situations.
These mothers are busy, but never too busy for their children. They are the mothers who bake the cookies for the
concession stand, attend all the band concerts, all the games of little league. They are the soccer moms who carpool for the boy
scouts, and put together sandwiches for club picnics.
They are the mothers who meet after work to plan educational activities for their
children and yours. They are the mothers who
drive everybody’s kids to meetings, ball games, dance practice and the movies. These are the mothers who sew on buttons and take
up hems kiss skinned knees and give out hugs wholesale.
They skip the beauty shop, the hot
tub and a needed nap for their child’s special event.
They are always in the audience, the stands,
the sidelines, backstage. They laugh and cry
and share their children’s lives.
They know that being a mother is a marvelous gift and they don’t plan to
disappoint the giver.