LC’s Commentary

Listen To The Voice of Reason

Mother’s Day

Mothers’ Day is one of the most sacred days of the year. The word mother has a special ring to it. Every time I hear it, I have visions of newborns, nurturing, sacrifices, sleepless nights, wringing hands, tired eyes, and almost unbearable responsibilities.  Mothers are blessed with something that fathers never experience. They are the ones who must carry the children in their wombs until birth. A virtually indestructible bond is developed between children and their mothers.  Mothers will protect their children with their lives. 

It really pains me to see and hear dear mothers being disrespected in our music and other discourse. One would be hard pressed to stoop lower than the people that disrespect the very people who brought them into the world.  Many will say they say and do things, just to make money and do not mean anything negative about it.  To me, it suggests they will sell their souls for the almighty dollar. Today’s mothers are carrying a heavy burden. Many are trying to be both mother and father. The last things they need are children who have lost respect for them. They certainly do not need to bombarded with vulgar and demeaning music at every turn.  Children! Mothers are the last bastion between the black family and totally meltdown.  Why in the world are you much such an effort to demean and disrespect the very people who still have a certain amount of confidence in you and think that you will eventually straighten your life out? Hear what I say. Lose her and those of her gender and you will lose everything.  No amount of money will replace them.  Think about it. Who do you run to when you get in trouble? Who is usually there to go to bat for you, even when you are very wrong? Who will stay in your corner when the odds are against you? Is it wise to put all of this in jeopardy? I say not.

This little poem says it all

Mommy

I stay at home with little ones who need me.
Blessed and grateful for the opportunity,
Thought I do not always remember to be.
At first, it seemed that I just nursed and gazed.
Now I am teaching, preaching, playing and dazed.
When they sleep, or when they smile.
I really hope growing up takes a while
When they are wailing or just will not mind,
Something it seems I am trapped and unkind.
How can such happiness find room for frustration?
The same old raising of children in a new generation.
I have visions of delusions of cuddles and lullabies.
Presenting nature to toddler’s wide little eyes.
Sunset walks with inquisitive little minds.
Profound conversations, sharing our lives.
Disagreements and discipline seems so out of place.
But that is my job, I pray I do it with grace.
Sharon Flath 

Sent 5/14/2006 2:01 PM
____________________

Copyright 2006
This commentary written by L.C. Thornton, for The Peoples Voice Black Weekly News
For reprint permission contact:
L.C. Thornton at mrzeke0@aol.com

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May 14, 2006 - Posted by | Uncategorized

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