Having trouble focusing this morning. That’s what happens when I exercise before scriptures. I thought of the poem mom use to quote by memory to us when we were little. A little search says “Which Loved Best?” by Joy Allison. I couldn’t keep from trying to replicate it.
“I love you, Mother,” one daughter says,
With gifts and praise on holidays.
Her words are warm, her arms embrace,
Yet distant grows her faith-filled space
Where once her childhood roots were sown;
She walks a path now all her own.
Another daughter seldom speaks
The tender phrases softness seeks.
“I love you” come with some distress;
Her actions simply speak them best.
Yet in her home faith still abides,
With prayer and scripture at her side.
She mothers well. She honors truth.
Her quiet life becomes her proof.
Another lives so far away,
Beyond the reach of everyday.
Yet pictures, calls, and moments shared
Reveal the love still living there.
Through hand-held screens and miles apart,
She opens her home and shares her heart.
All grown children, different ways,
Different lives and different days.
And mothers learn, as years go by,
Love speaks in more than lullabies.
For some speak warmth in easy streams,
Some sacrifice and serve unseen,
And some hold tight through time and space
With faithful effort, screen to face.
Which loved best? Who truly knows?
Love blooms in ways a mother grows
To recognize with grateful treasure;
All five have brought their mother pleasure.
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