She could apply to herself the following lines from a Christian writer who also was a mother of several children, and who knew the longings and heartaches of all mothers.
“Her work, done faithfully in God, will be immortal. The votaries of fashion will never see or understand the immortal beauty of that Christian mother’s work, and will sneer at her old-fashioned notions and her plain, unadorned dress, while the Majesty of heaven will write the name of that faithful mother in the book of immortal fame.”
“No other work equals hers in importance. She has not, like the artist, to paint a form of beauty upon canvas; nor, like the sculptor, to chisel it from marble. She has not, like the author, to embody a noble thought in words of power; nor, like the musician, to express a beautiful sentiment in melody. It is hers, with the help of God, to develop in a human soul, the likeness of the divine. “
No, she never had much time to enrich her own life, but I like to feel that as she kept her hands and eyes busy sewing, crocheting, reading, or just resting, she could with joy and happiness and peace in her heart look back forty or fifty years to the good old days when she was Ma to all seven of us. – CHRIS