I remember my mother with eyes so red.
Standing at the table during the Depression mixing a batch of bread.
I can still see her tears running down her cheek,
With a lump in her throat, so she could hardly speak.
I asked "What was the matter Mommy?"
Not understanding being so young,
She answered "I don't know where our next meal will come from."
She had six children, born two years apart.
She was afraid they would go hungry and it was breaking her heart.
She had lost her mother when she was five and knew the hunger pain,
She swpre with her children it would be different but
times looked just the same.
In spring it was wild greens or wild animal stew,
When there is no work or money any food will do.
She worked to feed her children, thought it was no big deal.
She worked miracles with what she had, to provide another meal.
She thought she had the Lord's blessing and never acted rude,
When anyone came hungry she would always chare the food.
She was a quiet woman with a gentle soul and never acted bold.
She said "Cast your bread upon the water it will come back ten fold".
She said "No child was born but there was food somewhere to feed it.
Do not waste food. There are others that need it."
When I go to Heaven I will start looking to see if my mother
may somewhere be.
Cooking for all the people who came late and offering them
food at the golden gate.
I Remember My Mother
