My Mother....

When pain and sickness made me cry,
Who gaz'd upon my heavy eye,
And wept, for fear that I should die?
My Mother.

Who ran to help me when I fell,
And would some pretty story tell,
Or kiss the place to make it well?
My Mother.

And can I ever cease to be
Affectionate and kind to thee,
Who wast so very kind to me,
My Mother.

Ah! no, the thought I cannot bear;
And if God please my life to spare,
I hope I shall reward thy care,
My Mother.

When thou art feeble, old, and gray,
My healthy arm shall be thy stay,
And I will soothe thy pains away,
My Mother.

And when I see thee hang thy head,
'Twill be my turn to watch thy bed,
And tears of sweet affection shed,
My Mother.

For God, who lives above the skies,
Would look with vengeance in His eyes,
If I should ever dare despise,
My Mother.

One of the best poems I have ever read. The lines of this poem keep floating to the top of my train of thoughts quite often these days.

We make so many demands as babies, as toddlers, as teenagers and as adults. She is always a taken-for-granted source of help. She meets all our demands, gives all that we want and keeps ready all that we may want. She puts our needs before hers. Her whole life aligns itself with our needs, our demands and our lives. She fights our battles for us or when she can't do that, she will be our pillar of strength enabling us to fight as well as win our battles.

Finally, when the time comes for us hold her hand when she fights her last battle, just hold her hand, not fight her battle for her, why do people fail her? Why do people think about leaving her in a hospital to be cared for while they go on a jolly trip? I am forced to think what would have happened to the kid had he/she been left in a hospital (or on roads for that matter) so that the mother could go on a jolly trip. Believe me, she would have deserved a break like that. But then she never does that, she would consider such a thought a sacrilege!

What race do we belong to? Where are we heading?