After the death of my 96 year old grandfather, our family came across a letter titled, "Tribute to a Daughter." It appears to have been written by his wife Mae 50 years ago. No one has heard Mae's voice since her death in 1996. Yet, in this letter to her daughter, she speaks with wisdom and love we benefit from today. If indeed Mae penned these precious words, our family is reminded of her tenderness and devotion to her Lord. If she simply duplicated the work of another, I am certainly glad she took the time to do so. It reads...
You have given me courage not inherent to my nature. I frighten easily. But thru
the years when I was alone with you and was the only protection between you and
potential danger, something happened to me. I became more than I was.
You have taught me which things were real and which were show. This is one of
the insights God grants to children and old people. As a little girl you were never much interested in fashion or haste or prejudice or affluence or price or social climbing or pretense. You were interested only in being free, being friendly, being unhurried, having plenty of time to scratch the puppy's underside when she flopped over or to watch the turtle cross the road or to see where the bee disappeared down the flower. When you folded your hands to say grace, your act of gratitude and obedience filled my own heart with overwhelming thankfulness to my Heavenly Father in allowing you to be my daughter.
With you I have felt the pride of possession-not mine of you but yours of me. You have claimed me. And now that you have children of your own, you know what that means.
As you grew up and introduced me to your friends, maternal pride welled-up within,
"And this is my mother" with a little something in your voice that says you find me acceptable. My heart sent a quick prayer, "Dear Father may she always be acceptable to you."
You have brought me closer to God than I could have approached on my own. When I was young and single, how sure I was of my armor and my right arm. But after you
came, I was much more vulnerable. I could not take every step with you or caution you against each danger or take your illness upon myself. I needed a faith in which to believe. I cried out and God was there.
He has quietly taken my hand. If there were deserts, there were also oasis, if there were mountains, there were also resting places. I praise God for all that I have tasted of life, the storm, the heat, the engulfing wave---but I am glad I didn't have to do it alone.
You have taught me to look on time as a friend, not as one who steals in the night to catch me unaware and do me harm. When I see the gray that fills around my temples, the tiny wrinkles that are the left-over footprints of care, the glasses that bring the eye of the needle into focus, I do not panic and wonder where the time has gone, I KNOW where the time has gone. I saw it in the cradle, in the child holding my hand, hearing your laughter in joy and your crying in pain. I saw it in the conflicts of your adolescence, in the stars in your eyes on your wedding day--and now TIME seems to stand still as I see you as a mother, tying little shoes, wiping little tears, fixing wounded knees and kissing scratchy fingers; teaching how to pray and sharing God's Word. Thank you my daughter. TIME allows me to do them in my heart for you; my child, my daughter, God bless you.
You have given me courage not inherent to my nature. I frighten easily. But thru
the years when I was alone with you and was the only protection between you and
potential danger, something happened to me. I became more than I was.
You have taught me which things were real and which were show. This is one of
the insights God grants to children and old people. As a little girl you were never much interested in fashion or haste or prejudice or affluence or price or social climbing or pretense. You were interested only in being free, being friendly, being unhurried, having plenty of time to scratch the puppy's underside when she flopped over or to watch the turtle cross the road or to see where the bee disappeared down the flower. When you folded your hands to say grace, your act of gratitude and obedience filled my own heart with overwhelming thankfulness to my Heavenly Father in allowing you to be my daughter.
With you I have felt the pride of possession-not mine of you but yours of me. You have claimed me. And now that you have children of your own, you know what that means.
As you grew up and introduced me to your friends, maternal pride welled-up within,
"And this is my mother" with a little something in your voice that says you find me acceptable. My heart sent a quick prayer, "Dear Father may she always be acceptable to you."
You have brought me closer to God than I could have approached on my own. When I was young and single, how sure I was of my armor and my right arm. But after you
came, I was much more vulnerable. I could not take every step with you or caution you against each danger or take your illness upon myself. I needed a faith in which to believe. I cried out and God was there.
He has quietly taken my hand. If there were deserts, there were also oasis, if there were mountains, there were also resting places. I praise God for all that I have tasted of life, the storm, the heat, the engulfing wave---but I am glad I didn't have to do it alone.
You have taught me to look on time as a friend, not as one who steals in the night to catch me unaware and do me harm. When I see the gray that fills around my temples, the tiny wrinkles that are the left-over footprints of care, the glasses that bring the eye of the needle into focus, I do not panic and wonder where the time has gone, I KNOW where the time has gone. I saw it in the cradle, in the child holding my hand, hearing your laughter in joy and your crying in pain. I saw it in the conflicts of your adolescence, in the stars in your eyes on your wedding day--and now TIME seems to stand still as I see you as a mother, tying little shoes, wiping little tears, fixing wounded knees and kissing scratchy fingers; teaching how to pray and sharing God's Word. Thank you my daughter. TIME allows me to do them in my heart for you; my child, my daughter, God bless you.
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