A Mother's Day Reflection

Mother's Day - Mother, I Love You

"But Mary kept in mind all these words, pondering them in her heart." St. Luke, 2:19.

It was a busy moment of a busy day. The street-car was crowded in that noon hour rush of the holiday season, when a young, pleasant-faced woman boarded the car with her two small sons. The smaller sat with his mother, while the older, a lad about four, took a seat across the aisle from them.

His eyes flashed out the window, then toward his mother, then toward his little brother. After he had sized up everything and everybody, the four-year old leaned across the aisle and whispered faintly: "Mother."

But mother did not hear, for all the noise and distraction of the trolley. The lad leaned still farther toward her, and in one of those childish whis­pers that start the echoes, he exclaimed: "Mother."

She heard, turned to him, and smiled. The boy brightened, and with all the breath in his little body he told her in a sort of stage whisper: "Mother, I love you!"

The mother returned a loving look. Passengers glanced at one another and smiled, turning tender faces toward the mother and her son. The street car became a place of joy, simply because a small son had told his mother that he loved her. The heart of everyone felt a tender tug.

We do something similar on Mother's Day. As we whirl along on the busy, crowded, distracted, unfeeling, thoughtless street-car of life, we take time out to tell our mothers that we love them. Sad it is that we must be reminded and prompted to do this. Yet, better far than forgetting them altogether is our custom of picking out one Sunday, the second Sunday of May to show our love and respect for the most important members of so­ciety.

Like that small boy, we want to say: "Mother. I love you."

In different ways we will say it. Some of us with a letter, a card, a phone call: others with some simple gift - flowers, candy, a pair of gloves.

Some of us may have mothers who live at no earthly address; they dwell in a mansion along some street of heaven. Even these we will not forget­ - no, we will send them, too, a winged prayer, a Communion, a Mass.

Many a son and daughter will be far from mother on her day. Large numbers of us will not be able to send her much, if anything, in the way of candy or flowers, but we can and must send her a greeting, we can and must send her some spiritual gift. My suggestion is that everyone of you who ever had a mother - and that includes all of us - attend Holy Mass and re­ceive Holy Communion for her on Mother's Day. And then, or better still, the week before, write and tell her that you are offering Mass and Commun­ion for her on her day.

How happy that will make her. She will be happy because you thought of her, and in such a beautiful way. Her happiness will be greater for the knowledge that you are attending Holy Mass and receiving our Lord. Aren't those the things that will gladden her mother heart more than anything? Isn't it the greatest happiness of a Catholic mother - to know that her boy and her girl are faithful to the religion which she helped to plant in their hearts? Will it not make her supremely satisfied to be thus assured that you are doing the right thing? What better proof can a mother have that her boy and her girl are trying to be the girl and boy she wants them to be, than the information that they have received Holy Communion and have offered Holy Mass - for her intention?

There is someone else to whom we want to say: "Mother, I love you."

To the Mother of all mothers we want to say during these May days: ""Heavenly Mother, I love you."

The earthly woman who gave you birth was the very first to tell you about that other woman who gave birth to the Son of God. At the knees of her who brought you into the world, you learned about her who brought Jesus into the world. Least jealous of the love and devotion we show to Mary, is the earthly mother who told you about her, who taught you to love her, who showed you how to imitate her, who trained your lisping lips to hail in angelic words the Mother of us all.

To that Mother her Son leaned over across the aisle of hate and separa­tion and agony, and from the cross said in effect: Mother, I love you."

There and then Jesus gave her to us, and gave us to her: "Son, behold thy Mother - Mother, behold thy son."

And, oh, how the world needs a Mother today! Did you ever notice how skilfully a mother calms the quarrels of her children? Did you ever ob­serve how deftly and firmly a mother will settle the arguments between her sons and daughters? How she defends the weak? How she curbs the strong? Did you ever notice how she makes peace between quarreling chil­dren?

A world Mother is what the world needs today and all the time. The children of the nations are quarreling. Every generation or so that quar­reling is unto blood and death, breaking out in a cruel world war. Only a Mother common to them all can quiet the angry arguments, can decide the deadly disputes, can bring peace to blood-thirsty brothers.

With all the ardor in our make-up we will tell our Blessed Mother dur­ing this season of May that we love her and want all men and women to love her. Then we will ask our Blessed Mother to help us love our earthly mothers more, and to make all mothers worthy of the high calling for which God has chosen them.

We wish to say to every mother in this parish: "Mother, I love you." And for the parish we wish to say to Mary: "Mother, I love you." Amen.
__________________
Adapted from Occasional Talks
by Fr. Arthur Tonne, OFM (©1949)