Mother's Day

This was forwarded to me by a friend, and I thought I'd pass it along.

It all began to make sense -- the blank stares, the lack of
> response, the way one of the kids would walk into the room while I'm on the
> phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, 'Can't you see I'm
> on the phone?'
>
>
> Obviously
> not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or
> even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all. I'm
> invisible. The invisible Mom.Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more!
> Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this??
>
>
> Some
> days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask,
> 'What time is it ?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, 'What number is the
> Disney Channel?' I'm a taxi for order, 'Right around 5:30, please.'
>
>
> Some
> days I'm a crystal ball; 'Where's my other sock? Where's my phone? What's for
> dinner?'
>
>
> I
> was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that
> studied history, music and literature -but now, they had disappeared into the
> peanut butter, never to be seen again She's going, she's going, she's gone!
>
>
> One
> night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend
> from England . She had just returned from a fabulous trip, and she was going on
> and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at
> the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel
> sorry for myself. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when she turned to me with a
> beautifully wrapped package, and said, 'I brought you this.' It was a book on
> the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it
> to me until I read her inscription:
>
> 'With admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees.'
> (What a beautiful gift she gave me)
>
> In the days ahead I would read - no, devoured - the book. And I
> would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which
> I could pattern my work:
>
>
>
> 1) No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their
> names
>
> 2) These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see
> finished.
>
> 3) They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.
>
> 4) The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God
> saw everything.
>
>
> A
> story of legend in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral
> while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the
> inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, 'Why are you spending so
> much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof, No
> one will ever see it. And the workman replied, 'Because God sees.'
>
>
> I
> closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if
> I heard God whispering to me, I see you. I see the sacrifices you make every
> day, even when no one around you does.
>
> No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no
> cupcake you've baked, no Cub Scout meeting, no last minute errand is too small
> for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you
> can't see right now what it will become.
>
>
>
> I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of
> the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on
> something that their name will never be on.
>
>
> When
> I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing
> home from college for Thanksgiving, 'My Mom gets up at 4 in the morning and
> bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for 3 hours and presses
> all the linens for the table.' That would mean I'd built a monument to myself.
> I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to
> say to his friend, he'd say, 'You're
> gonna love it there...'
>
>
> As
> mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it
> right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at
> what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the
> sacrifices of invisible mothers.
>
>
>
>
>
>