Friday, August 08, 2008

A Loving Example

I write heartfelt and inspirational stories about family relationships, stories that share wisdom and teach important moral and life lessons, stories from which children and parents might derive hope, guidance and a smile after reading them.

I collect written stories and conduct recorded telephone interviews to gather the information necessary to put together a story for my book projects. Stories are not published as submitted or told but rather are used as anecdotes told by me, the narrator, to help illustrate a message about teaching or cherished moments.

Please visit and click the red corner on the home page just beneath the “Projects” tab to learn more about what projects I may be working on.

The deadline to offer a mother-daughter story has passed. Please continue to visit this blog for updates on the book as it begins the last leg of its journey toward publication (Spring, 2009).

Now on to today’s post~

Whitney stood before the mirror getting ready for the biggest day of her life thus far, her wedding day. Her hair was done just as she had instructed, her dress was perfect, the flowers were gorgeous, yet something didn’t seem quite right. Her mind began to race; what had she forgotten, what could go wrong?

There was a light touch on her arm. “You look absolutely beautiful,” a soothing voice said. “He’s going to be so impressed, so very proud of you.” Whitney turned and looked into her mother’s beautiful reassuring green eyes. Her jitters faded away; everything was going to be all right now.

Her mother’s voice had always comforted and reassured, prompting Whitney to believe in the goodness of everyone, the best intention behind every action and the simple blessing of each new day. It was always her mother who could make anything seem better, who managed to find the bright side of things when everyone else saw only shadows. It was Claire, her mother, who Whitney had always wanted most to be like when she grew up.

Whether it was fresh bread in the oven or a pot roast whistling in a pressure cooker on the stove, the delicious smells of home cooking greeted Whitney each day when she burst through the front door returning home from school. And just as she did every afternoon when her daughter retuned home from school, Claire put aside what she was doing to sit at the kitchen table. There she and Whitney talked about the events of the young girl’s day. No detail was too small or meaningless; everything that bothered or interested Whitney was of upmost importance to Claire. And no matter what dilemma agonized Whitney, her mom managed to help her see things differently, to see things in a way that left the young girl feeling of confident, capable and worthy.

There were times when Claire had to work out of the home but she never once denied a phone call from Whitney, or any of her other children for that matter, or said that she was too busy to hear of what was on their minds. She was always there, a refuge from the big and scary world, a supporter and cheerleader for each of her children. Wanting more than anything else to be a good mom, Claire worked nights, reporting for duty after her husband had come home and her children had fallen asleep. Tired as she was, breakfast was always ready when her children arose in the morning, and she waited until they slipped out the door to catch the school bus before she let her eyelids close for some much needed rest.

The bride turned her gaze back to the mirror, not to look at herself again, but to admire the woman standing next to her, the woman who had taught her by example how to be the mother she knew she too would one day become.

Well, I guess that’s enough for today. Thanks so much for visiting my blog. Now go out and hug somebody!

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