Mother's Day Post
Wow- two posts in two days? Don't fall off your chair, folks.
I will inundated later with school work to complete/grade (work does not stop for the Hallmark holiday), but I have a few quiet moments for now.
Mother's Day story, which I actually meant to post last week when it happened, but again with the time getting away from me/rough week defense...
Last Friday, I did a fund raiser activity at our school's Spring Concert. We sold single flowers for parents to give to their kids who were performing. (And we sold ALL of them, and made a small yet tidy sum.) My Elder Flower wanted to help Mommy sell flowers, so I took her with me that night (needless to say, she sold about two before getting bored, and thank god for students to amuse her.) We got McDonald's to eat, in the time crunch of dropping off Younger with Hubby and picking up soft pretzels (for another group fund raising, because the Pretzel Factory is right by my house) and the 15 dozen individually wrapped and ribboned carnations in buckets of water.
The McDonald's is right near my school, which is not in the best area of the city (though far from the worst, believe me.) As we pulled away, an older man called out to me from the doorway, and I stopped- all doors locked, my window only partially opened, and my foot ready to hit the gas pedal (I'm a little paranoid with the kids in the car; it's different-- and much less fearful-- when its just me.) He wanted money or food, said he hadn't eaten in two days. He was cleaned up, looked a little threadbare. My mother, bless her, as difficult as she could be at other times, always helped people out like that.
I know I could be being taken advantage of, but I go on the principle (somehow against my cynical nature) that no one would want to stand there and scam quarters liked that unless they really had to. And on the principle of pay it forward. God forbid that should ever be me or someone I loved in that situation, I would want someone to help them. My mother used to stress that you never know how someone ended up in a situation like that, and that it may not have been their fault. Especially if they were mentally ill (she lived through the emptying of the asylums and had been in one- briefly- herself.) Usually, she would go buy them food instead of giving them money, but I didn't want to take Elder out of the car to do so, so I fished for some money. I only had some change, but I gave it to him.
Elder, after we pulled away, wanted to know why I gave him him money.
I explained, amid some gathering tears, that my mommy had taught me to always help out if I could, and that the man had said he needed help to eat. So I helped. And she asked why. I explained that, while we aren't rich, we could afford to help him out without putting ourselves out, so we should. You should always help other people if you can. She accepted my explanation, and didn't seem to notice my tears.
Some days it is harder to accept than others that my Mom never got to meet my girls, and that they will never get to know her. That one was a harder day, but at least I can tell them about her. Right?
I miss my Mom.
I will inundated later with school work to complete/grade (work does not stop for the Hallmark holiday), but I have a few quiet moments for now.
Mother's Day story, which I actually meant to post last week when it happened, but again with the time getting away from me/rough week defense...
Last Friday, I did a fund raiser activity at our school's Spring Concert. We sold single flowers for parents to give to their kids who were performing. (And we sold ALL of them, and made a small yet tidy sum.) My Elder Flower wanted to help Mommy sell flowers, so I took her with me that night (needless to say, she sold about two before getting bored, and thank god for students to amuse her.) We got McDonald's to eat, in the time crunch of dropping off Younger with Hubby and picking up soft pretzels (for another group fund raising, because the Pretzel Factory is right by my house) and the 15 dozen individually wrapped and ribboned carnations in buckets of water.
The McDonald's is right near my school, which is not in the best area of the city (though far from the worst, believe me.) As we pulled away, an older man called out to me from the doorway, and I stopped- all doors locked, my window only partially opened, and my foot ready to hit the gas pedal (I'm a little paranoid with the kids in the car; it's different-- and much less fearful-- when its just me.) He wanted money or food, said he hadn't eaten in two days. He was cleaned up, looked a little threadbare. My mother, bless her, as difficult as she could be at other times, always helped people out like that.
I know I could be being taken advantage of, but I go on the principle (somehow against my cynical nature) that no one would want to stand there and scam quarters liked that unless they really had to. And on the principle of pay it forward. God forbid that should ever be me or someone I loved in that situation, I would want someone to help them. My mother used to stress that you never know how someone ended up in a situation like that, and that it may not have been their fault. Especially if they were mentally ill (she lived through the emptying of the asylums and had been in one- briefly- herself.) Usually, she would go buy them food instead of giving them money, but I didn't want to take Elder out of the car to do so, so I fished for some money. I only had some change, but I gave it to him.
Elder, after we pulled away, wanted to know why I gave him him money.
I explained, amid some gathering tears, that my mommy had taught me to always help out if I could, and that the man had said he needed help to eat. So I helped. And she asked why. I explained that, while we aren't rich, we could afford to help him out without putting ourselves out, so we should. You should always help other people if you can. She accepted my explanation, and didn't seem to notice my tears.
Some days it is harder to accept than others that my Mom never got to meet my girls, and that they will never get to know her. That one was a harder day, but at least I can tell them about her. Right?
I miss my Mom.