
The Strong Horse Journal of Northern Virginia
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A Mother's Gifts
Part 5
Well. The focus here is a mother’s gift of love.
So, a question: If you were to provide a personal illustration of motherly sacrificial love—what would it be?
It had been snowing heavily all night. By morning, the accumulation, on top of the already thick crust, was considerable. Wisconsin winter had come early. There was going to be a very white Christmas this year.
The boys, eager to experience the fresh snow, were already finishing their breakfast.
Their mother had been up before dawn. There were sandwiches to be made, and a Thermos of hot coffee to prepare. Sometimes the boys accompanied their father on his Saturday ice fishing trips and predawn departures. Then there would be additional sandwiches needed, and hot cocoa as well.
And then, for the mother, there would be a quiet day of focused activity and household chores.
On this morning, however, the first of the chores would be getting the boys bundled up and out the door. Then attention could be given to the cleaning that needed to be done, and the laundry that was waiting.
Someday, years hence, the house would be quiet on these winter mornings, with weekends that were leisurely and carefree. Today, though, life consisted of long underwear in boys’ sizes, and flannel shirts and corduroy trousers, and sweaters, scarves, coats, caps, mittens, and snow boots.
Thus attired, the boys herded to the door. There was a cold blast of air as they marched into the frigid temperature.
For the moment, all was quiet in the house.
Soon the beds were made, then the dishes done and the laundry gathered. The mother was well along with the vacuuming, and was unloading laundry, when there was a commotion at the door.
The boys were back—mittens, coats, and scarves crusted with snow, faces ruddy from the raw wind.
There was another icy blast as the door opened.
“We’re freezing!” the boys exclaimed, as they stomped snow from their boots and trudged inside.
“We’re ready to come back in now!”