Too Busy To Play Until It's Too Late

My precious boy with the golden hair 

Came up one day beside my chair

And fell upon his bended knee

And said, "Oh, Mommy, please play with me!"

I said, "Not now, go on and play;

I've got so much to do today."

He smiled through tears in eyes so blue

When I said, "We'll play when I get through."

But the chores lasted all through the day

And I never did find time to play.

When supper was over and dishes done,

I was much too tired for my little son.

I tucked him in and kissed his cheek

And watched my angel fall asleep.

As I tossed and turned upon my bed,

Those words kept ringing in my head,

"Not now, son, go on and play,

I've got so much to do today."

I fell asleep and in a minute's span,

My little boy is a full-grown man.

No toys are there to clutter the floor;

No dirty fingerprints on the door;

No snacks to fix; no tears to dry;

The rooms just echo my lonely sigh.

And now I've got the time to play;

But my precious boy is gone away.

I awoke myself with a pitiful scream

And realized it was just a dream

For across the room in his little bed,

Lay my curly-haired boy, the sleepy-head.

My work will wait 'til another day

For now I must find some time to play. 

- Dianna (Ars. Joe) Neal

Honoring My Mother

About the time he was in junior high, Dr. Benjamin Carson, now director of pediatric neurosurgery at Johns Hopkins Children’s Center, Baltimore, Maryland, and author of several books, realized that his mother couldn’t read. For years, Ben and his brother had read books and scratched out reports for their mother, assuming their mom was checking every word. But she didn’t have a clue what they were writing.

Ben’s illiterate mom didn’t twist her hands over her lack of learning and give up hope of raising intelligent boys, however. Instead, she gave her boys what she had — interest, accountability, and the courage to demand extra work. And it paid off.

Years later, someone asked Ben why his mother still lived with him, even after he was married and had a family of his own. “You don’t understand,” Ben answered. “If it weren’t for that woman, I wouldn’t be living here. She earned this.”

 — Kevin Leman, What a Difference a Daddy Makes (Nelson, 2000)

That's Why She Has So Much Gray Hairs

A little girl sat on the bed pestering her mum with questions while mum was in a hurry to get changed and go out. Watching her mother looking in the mirror and plucking out the grey hairs on her head she asked, "Mummy, why do you have some grey hairs?"

Her mother replied, "Because you're such a naughty girl and cause me so much worry."

"Blimey!" said the little girl looking at all mummy's grey hairs. "You must have been a little devil towards Grandma!"

- Gordon Curley, sermoncentral.com

Fat And Pretty

The little boy loved his mother and loved to sit on her lap.  One day the boy was sitting on his mother's lap while she was reading a book to him.  After she finished the book, he cuddled up close to her and said, "I love you, Mommy!"

His mother was grateful for his love but mistakenly questioned the worth of its object.  She asked, "How can you love a mother who is so fat and ugly?"

The son quickly protested, "Oh, Mommy, you are not!  You're fat and pretty!"

- Parables, Etc. (March 1996)

A Mother's Selfless Rescue

Police don't know where Deborah Kemp found the strength.  But Kemp knows.  Six-year-old daughter Ashleye was in the backseat, and Kemp wasn't going to let the man steal her car after she pumped gas.  The thirty-four-year-old mother was dragged on her knees for several blocks as she clung to the door and steering wheel of the moving car.

"I wasn't trying to be a hero," she said.  "I was concerned about my baby... there was part of me in that car."  Kemp eventually pulled the suspect from the car and beat him with an anti theft club device while he apologized and begged her to stop.

The driverless car went out of control and smashed into a restaurant, breaking a gas line.  That's when the child woke up.  Kemp suffered only ripped pants and bloody knees.  The child was not injured.  The suspect can't walk: One leg is broken, the other fractured.  He also suffered head injuries.

- from an Atlanta newspaper, December 1994, submitted by Rose Hodgin to Parables, Etc. (July 1995)

An Invitation of Unconditional Acceptance

Longing to leave her poor Brazilian neighborhood, Christina wanted to see the world.  Discontent with home having only a pallet on the floor, a washbasin, and a wood-burning stove, she dreamed of a better life in the city.  One morning she slipped away, breaking her mother's heart.

Knowing what life on the streets would be like for her young, attractive daughter, Maria hurriedly packed to go find her.  On her way to the bus stop she entered a drugstore to get one last thing.  Pictures.  She sat in the photograph booth, closed the curtain, and spent all she could on pictures of herself.  With her purse full of black-and-white photos, she boarded the next bus to Rio de Janeiro.

Maria knew Christina had no way of earning money.  She also knew that her daughter was too stubborn to give up.  When pride meets hunger, a human will do things that were before unthinkable. Knowing this, Maria began her search.  Bars, hotels, nightclubs, any place with the reputation for street walkers or prostitutes.  She went to them all.  And at each place she left her picture--taped on a bathroom mirror, tacked to a hotel bulletin board, fastened to a corner phone booth,  and on the back of each photo she wrote a note.  It wasn't too long before both the money and the pictures ran out, and Maria had to go home.

The weary mother wept as the bus began its long journey back to her small village.  It was a few weeks later that young Christina descended the hotel stairs.  Her young face was tired.  Her brown eyes no longer danced with youth but spoke of pain and fear.  Her laughter was broken.  Her dream had become a nightmare.  A thousand times over she had longed to trade these countless beds for her secure pallet.  Yet the little village was, in too many ways, too far away.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, her eyes noticed a familiar face.  She looked again, and there on the lobby mirror was a small picture of her mother.  Christina's eyes burned and her throat tightened as she walked across the room and removed the small photo.  Written on the back was this compelling invitation.  "Whatever you have done, whatever you have become, it doesn't matter.  Please come home."

She did.

- Max Lucado, No Wonder They Call Him Savior (Multnomah Press, 1986)

Not So Difficult Choice

A soldier undergoing training in Fort Benning, Georgia was one day put in a difficult situation.  He received a package from home containing cookies, one of those things that the trainees were not allowed to have in the campsite.  

After a roll call, the drill sergeant found out this soldier’s offense.  Therefore, the sergeant gave him a choice of throwing the cookies out or eating them while he did one-arm pushups.  To everyone’s surprise, he chose the latter.  As everyone watched in amazement, the soldier looked up and said through a mouthful of cookies, “This is a breeze compared to what my mother would do if she heard that I threw her cookies out.”

- Steve May, The Story File (Hendrickson, 2000)