"Son, why don’t you take your Father’s twelve gauge and go back on the mountain and see if you can scare up a groundhog or something. That will do you a lot more good than going to school today." Mom said, putting her arms around me and hugging me tightly.

As I was going out the door she yelled. "And take those two worthless hound dogs with you!" She was referring to my dog Old Rounder and Dad’s fox hound Old Queen.

I headed for Pond Mountain with those two hound dogs sniffing at my heels.

Mom could always tell when one of her children was upset. She was the only mother in the world I know of that would have told one of her children to go hunting instead of school! I did have a problem and if I had gone to school it would have gotten worse. As it turned out the problem seemed to get smaller the longer I stayed on the mountain. By the time I got home it was gone.

Mom was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. Not only did she have physical beauty but she also had that inner beauty and understanding that only the most caring of mothers seem to have. Mom was also as tough as nails and for all intents and purposes she invented this thing called tough love!

I learned about tough love the hard way. Mom was mixing cornbread batter in a large pan. She always mixed this with her hands and it just so happened that I picked this moment in time to advise her that I would not go to the spring house for water, that it was my brothers turn to carry water. I can still feel the sting on the side of my face where she slapped me and splattered that cornbread batter all over the kitchen. I never did talk back to Mom again, especially when she was mixing cornbread batter!

Mom had eight children, one a retarded invalid daughter that died at age four, yet she was able to give each one of us the individual attention and love we needed to feel safe and secure.

Mom tended a garden, canned meats and vegetables, made jellies, jams and preserves. She put up crocks of pickled beans, pickles cucumbers and sauerkraut. She kept two cows that she milked twice a day and churned her own butter.

Mom cleaned her house and cooked three square meals each day.

Every Sunday, come rain or come shine, Mom had her children in Sunday School!

If anyone ever deserved to be in Mother’s Hall of Fame it was my Mom!

MOM

I have this old recurring dream
And each night it’s the same.
I’m walking through the entranceway
To Mothers Hall of Fame!
The only thing that I can see
In this splendid exhibit hall
Is a painting titled simply MOM
Hanging high upon the wall!

The haunting beauty of her face
Reflects life’s ebb and flow
And I’m caught up to her bosom
In the magic of her glow!
I feel the touch of tenderness
The coolness of a tear!
Then she whispers in the silence,
"Things will be all right, my dear!"

I see an old frayed scripture book.
I hear a sweet soft lullaby.
I feel the touch of a goodnight kiss.
I can smell the apple pie.
Then I wake up with a feeling
That you are the one they chose
As the model in the portrait!
When did you find time to pose?

When did you find time to sit and pose
For the picture on the wall?
A portrait of perfection
That is recognized by all!
That changes in each viewer’s eyes
As they call out your name,
While pausing in the entranceway
To Mothers Hall of Fame!