Being Called Mother

There is nothing that can ever compare;
To the words that echo in the air.
The words that come from a tiny voice;
The word "Mother, or Mama" it's their choice.

You carry them and nurture them;
The first nine months of their life;
Then one day they enter this world;
Sometimes with pain and strife.

Soon the pain is left behind;
And pleasant memories fill your mind.
You counted the fingers and the toes;
And watch this body as it grows.

Before you know it, it's all grown up;
And ventures out on it's own.
One of the most painful memories you had;
Is watching this child leave home.

You're left with all the memories;
Of Christmas' gone by.
And other holidays you shared;
That put that gleam in your eye.

But a smile comes forth upon your face;
It's been there all along.
You know that it was all your work;
That made this child strong.

You see, there is a special bond;
Between a child and it's Mother.
The Father is a special one, too;
But it's nothing like the other.

Maybe it's cause we carried them;
And we were always there.
They knew that they could count on us;
For extra "special" care.

You know that there will always be;
A special place within your heart.
And no matter where the two of you are;
You'll never be far apart.

God has given you a special gift;
He smiled on you from above.
I thank you God for smiling on me;
And giving me a child to love!

© Betty Hawkins 2003
(All Rights Reserved)