Thoughtful Moments

Bay of Plenty Beacon, Volume 72, Issue 7, 12 May 1944, Page 2

Thoughtful Moments

(Supplied by the Whakatn

MOTHER'S DAY

"All good women, whether mothers or not, are motherly, and it is by their that they Avin our hearts." A SOLDIER'S MOTHER She sits in the pew in front, small and rather frail, a neat, homely body. Rarely is she absent from service, often braving the blackout AA'hen younger folk make it an excuse for staying indoors. I sat behind her last Sunday. It AA 7 as itouching to note again (as I invariably do) that she. sat bolt upright, never settling herself into the corner. Years ago, her husband sat at the end of the peAV, but he has been gone a long time iioav. When, he passed on, a fair-haired laddie Avas promoted to Father's place in Church; and now that Arthur is on active service, his mother leaves his seat .... After serA'ice we Avalked a little AA r ay together. "I had a letter from my boy on Friday," she said, a neAV dignity taking possession of her. "He is still out East. He told me that, in spirit he sits by me in Church every Sunday morning, and he says 'that the influence of this place, its prayers and its praises and its fellowship, and most of all, its. worship, are Avith him now, sources of strength for these, hard days." She smiled, radiantly. "We are far apart, my boy and I," she Avhispered, "but in spirit avc are vcty close . . . and isn't it comforting to knoAV Ave_ both kneel at the feet of the same Lord?" OLD MOTHER MEYSON They all loved her, of course. A rough lot, they were, those soldiers quartered near the A r illage t till they Avere billeted next door to old Mother Meyson, late in the autumn .... But Mother Meyson thought the world of thorn. She called tliem her boys. They had laughed at her, a!t first, rather rudely, perhaps, for she had made a daily, pilgrimage to the field Avhere their tents liad been pitched all that summer, and she had aIAA r ays handed a large custard, or a couple of apple pies over the gate. Early in their stay the soldiers came to respect, her. From the first she had hinted rather shyly, that, although her cottage Avas not big her kitchen Avas at their disposal, and if anyone ever fancied a cup of tea, he had only to look in r and ten to one the big black kettle on the fire AA'ould be singing, and a cup of tea (and maybe a round of toast) could be had in tAA T o ticks. Bit by bit Moalier Meyson's boys began to look her up fairly often ... As time went on Mother Mey-

nfc Ministers' Association)

OUR SUNDAY MESSAGE

son's cottage became a kind of second home. Indeed, if Jo~k or Stanley or Peter or "Little John" (who stood six feet two) Avere missing, it was fairly certain they were round at Mother Meyson's and you could be sure they Avere lolling on her couch or sitting at her table; unless, of course, they were washing up,, or chopping sticks for her, or bringing in the coal or even cleaning windows ... With 'the coming of autumn, the soldiers began to find Mother Meyson's kitchen still more inviting ; and even when they Avere moved into billdts, there Avas no place like that room, with its. big fire,, slojf't 'amplight, and Mother Meyson sitting primly but graciously in her chair, her Avhite hair drawn tighitly back, her little cap resting lightly upon it, her shaAvl about her thin shoulders, and—like as not—an open Bible on her knee. You may not believe it, but the fellows were at home there, bringing in boxes to sit on, bullying the old lady into 'staying put,' Avhile they made her a cup of & tea, finding her spectacles for her, and generally looking after her. Now and then they would talk., of the old times, of future hopes, or listen to her stories of days, long gone by; and of'ten they Avould look into her serene face, and listen patiently, as she read a verse or tAvo from the. Book she loved, the Book she believed in with such magnificent simplicity . . . When bedtime came, she would look at them all as if they were her children, smile, and say "Good night,, boys. Be good." (Both these sketches are. condensed from "Friendly Folk" by H. L. Gee.) A MOTHER'S PRAYER, Endless duties to gtft through, Cooking, darning, shopping, too : What a scope my jobs afford Yet. I'm often tired and bored. When my dear ones' loving praise Cheers the. common round of days As wi'th sunshine —clouds are gone! I rejoice, and carry on. Help me, Lord, to give my best; Keep our heme a place of rest. In my tasks an offering see— Done for Love, as unto Thee. —Elsie R. Anderson. A MOTHER'S LOVE The wondrous soul of Mother Love Is God's great blessing from above, Poured out upon the lives of men, Too deep to compass Avith the pen. We pray that God may bless her life, Sustain her midst this earth's great strife, And on this day Ave. (thus implore. Grant her Thy gifts trom Heaven's store. —A. C. Newbury.