Tuesday, February 19, 2013

"The invisible Mother"

A friend of mine shared this with me a while ago.  I was feeling particularly exhausted and done for that day, and was in tears by the time I finished the last line.  I thought I would share it with you today as it blessed me. 

My sweet babies!
 

The Invisible Mother...
 
"It all began to make sense, the blank stares,
the lack of response,
the way one of the kids
will walk into the room while I'm on the phone 
and ask to be taken to the store.
 Inside I'm thinking, 
'Can't you see I'm on the phone?'
 
Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, 
or cooking, or sweeping the floor, 
or even standing on my head in the corner,
because no one can see me at all. 
I'm invisible. The invisible Mom.
Some days I am only a pair of hands, 
nothing more! ' Can you fix this?
Can you tie this? Can you open this??
 
Some days I'm not a pair of hands;
I'm not even a human being. 
I'm a clock to ask, 'What time is it?' 
I'm a satellite guide to answer,
'What number is the Disney Channel?'
I'm a car to order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'
 
Some days I'm a crystal ball; 
Where's my other sock?, 
Where's my phone?, 
What's for dinner?'
 
I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that 
studied history, music and literature --but now, they had disappeared into the 
peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!?
 
One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend 
from England . She had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going 
on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at 
the others all put together so well.
It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty 
pathetic, when she turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I 
brought you this.' It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe .
I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her
inscription:
'With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
 
In the days ahead I would read--- no, devour- - the book. And I would discover 
what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern 
my work: 1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of 
their names. 2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would 
never see finished. 3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit. 4) The 
passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw 
everything.
 
A story of legend in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral 
while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside 
of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so much time 
carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No one will ever 
see it ' And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
 
I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as 
if I heard God whispering to me, 'I see you. I see the sacrifices you make every 
day, even when no one around you does.'.
 
'No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake you've 
baked, no Cub Scout meeting, no last- minute errand is too small for me to 
notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see 
right now what it will become.'
 
I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the 
people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on 
something that their name will never be on.
 
The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be 
built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to 
that degree.
 
When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's 
bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning 
and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand- bastes a turkey for 3 hours and 
presses all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a monument to 
myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything 
more to say to his friend, he'd say, 'You're gonna love it there...'
 
As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing 
it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only 
at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the 
sacrifices of invisible mothers."
 
 -Author Unknown
 
 

xoxo
 
Evey
Owner/Creator, Evey's Creations

Tel: 201-281-6696 
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3 comments:

  1. Wow. Never thought of motherhood in quite this way. But how true it is.

    Thanks for sharing it. I think we all need this reminder some days.

    ReplyDelete
  2. That was beautiful, thanks for sharing with us.

    ReplyDelete
  3. That's beautiful Evey. It made me cry. Really makes you take a look at what you are doing with new eyes, right. Hope you are having a beautiful day.

    ReplyDelete

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