I’ve always been blessed to have a mother. There wasn’t a time when I can’t remember her being ever-present, ready (but not always willing) to cater to my every wish for cocoa and just one more story….please? Nevertheless, as will be, mothers and daughters quarrel. Despite the fact that we’re often complimented with the praise of looking alike, my mother and I don’t exactly have the same temperaments – though miraculously God gave us strong wills and A type personalities to clash regardless.
What a joy.
It is at times like these that I often have to be reminded, most often through the literary medium, of the numerous children who have never been lucky enough to enjoy a mother’s grace, love, and compassion. Sarah Plain and Tall is one of those books that reminds me of how much a mother can mean to children and how beautiful that slim hope is of having a complete family, fulfilled by the pivotal role of a mother.
Anna’s papa is wonderful and even if her home is rather dry and isolated, it’s hers. She and Caleb love their home, but even still it has something…missing. When their father decides to write away for a mail-order bride, Anna and Caleb get excited. Their best friends have a stepmother and she’s one of the sweetest people they know. So when a Sarah writes back to their father, Anna becomes hopeful that soon her father may start singing again and that the house will feel complete again. When Sarah arrives, she’s just as described, “plain and tall.” She’s exactly how Anna imagined, even with her talk of the rolling sea and the New England world she’s used to. The only problem? Papa may not be able to make Sarah fall in love with him and if Sarah goes back, Anna may lose the only chance she has of having the one thing she wants most in the world: a mother.
Anna’s desire to have a mother always reminds me what life should be like, not just for me with my type A personality and stubborn chin that points straight up when I’m angry, but for all of us. The mother we were born with isn’t perfect, but neither are we. And if I’ve got to choose to live a life with or without a mother, I’d rather take it with.
And hey, at the end of the day, watching my mom dance around the kitchen to Stevie Wonder may be embarrassing, but I’m pretty sure she cringes when she tells people that I’m a Ravenclaw nerd who adores Han Solo and wants to be BFFs with all the Avengers.
This Mother’s Day, celebrate the mothers you know. Even if it’s just the ones in books, they are important figures who make the world what it is. As some man with a long beard in a dress – sorry, tunic – said once upon a time, “It is the hand that rocks the cradle, that rules the world.”
Or something like that.