1 Corinthians 13:4-7: Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not
proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always
perseveres.
Today I will digress from my regularly scheduled blog to
present a beautiful essay on motherhood that was given to me today, by a good friend,
after daily Mass. His grandfather, Hector DeFazio wrote this at the age of 85,
in 1963. Call her Mary, call her all mothers.
Woman’s Name is Mother
Woman, thy holiest name is Mother. Mother not by the number
of children you bear, but by the deepest instinct of your nature, by the
passion of your soul.
Mother is the name of woman, whether she bears and mothers
her own children, or the waifs of a city or the refugees of desolation.
Call her intuition for she has the sense of
future events.
Call her courage, for she is braver than the
bravest of the brave – the lonely path she takes into the primal darkness,
where no man has ever gone but whence every man has come, is a more fearsome
adventure than questing the continents and the charting of the seas.
Call her comfort, for even God could find no
richer figure. Also, he whom his mother comforteth so will I comfort you.
Call her sacrifice, for she gives her all:
body, mind and spirit, and gives all gladly, and weeping only though, having given
all, she has nothing left to give.
Call her patience, for in her, this grace
has its perfect work.
Call her forgiveness. Aye! Call her forgiveness
and into forgiveness blend the colors, the fadeless colors of unchangeableness.
She is the same way yesterday, today and forever. Heaven and
earth may pass away for you, Sir, but your mother will never move.
She will be waiting,
waiting for you when, hungry and naked, you come whimpering back.
All others may condemn you
for your weakness and curse you for your sin, but she will piece together your
broken life, and with her naked hands, lift your heart again to God, and claim
for you His healing.
And faith, call her faith at the last and to the last, faith when all
else fails, all others flee.
Intuition, courage, comfort, sacrifice, patience, forgiveness
and faith, these are the seven perfect parts of mother
love, mother love which next to the love of Christ is most sublime. (Hector
DeFazio)
The Prayer, Thanksgiving
for Mary, Our Mother
O Jesus, Divine Master, I
thank and bless Your most merciful Heart for having given us Mary most
holy as our Mother, Teacher and Queen. From the cross You placed us all in her
hands. You gave her a great heart, much wisdom and immense power. May all
mankind know her, pray to her! May all permit themselves to be led by her to
You, the Savior of mankind! I placed myself in her hands, as You placed
Yourself. With this Mother I want to live now, in the hour of my death, and for
all eternity. Amen. http://www.catholic.org/prayers/prayer.php?p=2827
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