The beauty of a woman is not in the clothes she wears, the figure that she carries, or the way she combs her hair.
The beauty of a woman must be seen from in her eyes, because that is the doorway to her heart, the place where love resides.
The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mole, but true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul.
It is the caring that she lovingly gives, the passion that she shows, and the beauty of a woman with passing years only grows!
Monday, May 12, 2008
The Images of Mother
4 YEARS OF AGE - My Mommy can do anything!
8 YEARS OF AGE - My Mom knows a lot! A whole lot!
12 YEARS OF AGE - My Mother doesn't really know quite everything.
14 YEARS OF AGE - Naturally, Mother doesn't know that, either.
16 YEARS OF AGE - Mother? She's hopelessly old-fashioned.
18 YEARS OF AGE - That old woman? She's way out of date!
25 YEARS OF AGE - Well, she might know a little bit about it.
35 YEARS OF AGE - Before we decide, let's get Mom's opinion.
45 YEARS OF AGE - Wonder what Mom would have thought about it?
65 YEARS OF AGE - Wish I could talk it over with Mom.
8 YEARS OF AGE - My Mom knows a lot! A whole lot!
12 YEARS OF AGE - My Mother doesn't really know quite everything.
14 YEARS OF AGE - Naturally, Mother doesn't know that, either.
16 YEARS OF AGE - Mother? She's hopelessly old-fashioned.
18 YEARS OF AGE - That old woman? She's way out of date!
25 YEARS OF AGE - Well, she might know a little bit about it.
35 YEARS OF AGE - Before we decide, let's get Mom's opinion.
45 YEARS OF AGE - Wonder what Mom would have thought about it?
65 YEARS OF AGE - Wish I could talk it over with Mom.
REAL MOTHERS
Real Mothers don't eat quiche; they don't have time to make it.
Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils are probably in the sandbox.
Real Mothers often have sticky floors, filthy ovens and happy kids.
Real Mothers know that dried play dough doesn't come out of shag carpets.
Real Mothers don't want to know what the vacuum just sucked up.
Real Mothers sometimes ask 'Why me?' and get their answer when a little voice says, 'Because I love you best.'
Real Mothers know that a child 's growth is not measured by height or years or grade...It is marked by the progression of Mama to Mom to Mother...
Real Mothers know that their kitchen utensils are probably in the sandbox.
Real Mothers often have sticky floors, filthy ovens and happy kids.
Real Mothers know that dried play dough doesn't come out of shag carpets.
Real Mothers don't want to know what the vacuum just sucked up.
Real Mothers sometimes ask 'Why me?' and get their answer when a little voice says, 'Because I love you best.'
Real Mothers know that a child 's growth is not measured by height or years or grade...It is marked by the progression of Mama to Mom to Mother...
Saturday, May 10, 2008
Ethiopia: It costs $5 for a tea, $17 to save a child's life
The contrast was stark: babies and toddlers dying of preventable diseases while guests at a hotel in Addis Ababa tasted the high life. Then the penny dropped and corporate social responsibility began to make a difference. Steve Bloomfield reports from the Ethiopian village of Woreb.
Before I was a Mom ...
Before I was a Mom
I never tripped over toys or forgot words to a lullaby.
I didn't worry whether or not my plants were poisonous.
I never thought about immunizations.
Before I was a Mom -
I had never been puked on.
Pooped on.
Chewed on.
Peed on.
I had complete control of my mind and my thoughts.
I slept all night.
Before I was a Mom
I never held down a screaming child so doctors could do tests.
Or give shots.
I never looked into teary eyes and cried.
I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.
I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.
Before I was a Mom
I never held a sleeping baby just because I didn't want to put him down.
I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I couldn't stop the hurt.
I never knew that something so small could affect my life so much.
I never knew that I could love someone so much.
I never knew I would love being a Mom.
Before I was a Mom -
I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body.
I didn't know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby.
I didn't know that bond between a mother and her child.
I didn't know that something so small could make me feel so important
and happy.
Before I was a Mom -
I had never gotten up in the middle of the night every 10 minutes to make sure all was okay.
I had never known the warmth, the joy, the love, the heartache, the wonderment or the satisfaction of being a Mom.
I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much, before I was a Mom.
I never tripped over toys or forgot words to a lullaby.
I didn't worry whether or not my plants were poisonous.
I never thought about immunizations.
Before I was a Mom -
I had never been puked on.
Pooped on.
Chewed on.
Peed on.
I had complete control of my mind and my thoughts.
I slept all night.
Before I was a Mom
I never held down a screaming child so doctors could do tests.
Or give shots.
I never looked into teary eyes and cried.
I never got gloriously happy over a simple grin.
I never sat up late hours at night watching a baby sleep.
Before I was a Mom
I never held a sleeping baby just because I didn't want to put him down.
I never felt my heart break into a million pieces when I couldn't stop the hurt.
I never knew that something so small could affect my life so much.
I never knew that I could love someone so much.
I never knew I would love being a Mom.
Before I was a Mom -
I didn't know the feeling of having my heart outside my body.
I didn't know how special it could feel to feed a hungry baby.
I didn't know that bond between a mother and her child.
I didn't know that something so small could make me feel so important
and happy.
Before I was a Mom -
I had never gotten up in the middle of the night every 10 minutes to make sure all was okay.
I had never known the warmth, the joy, the love, the heartache, the wonderment or the satisfaction of being a Mom.
I didn't know I was capable of feeling so much, before I was a Mom.
~ Anon.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
Family Is Defined by Bonds Deeper Than Birth
From: www.thisibelieve.org
Contributor: Stephanie
Location: Louisville, KY
Country: United States of America
Looking at my daughter, the clerk behind the counter asks, "What is she?" This is not the first time I have heard this question, and the stored up, smart aleck answers swirl through my mind. Instead, understanding that I am my daughter's role model for handling life issues, I stifle the negativity and respond, "She's beautiful, and smart, and well behaved, too."
The clerk says "oh" and glances at me, wondering if I just didn't understand the question. I smile because I understood the question right away, but I am only just now beginning to understand the real answers.
I met my daughter, Rudy, while working as an audiologist at the Kentucky Commission for Children with Special Health Care Needs. She was a small, quiet, deaf, non-communicative two-and-a-half year old. My heart recognized her immediately. I am the whitest of white women and my daughter is some indefinable combination of all that is beautiful from at least three races. Curly dark hair, petite features, freckles, a golden tan skin tone, and one blue eye and one brown. If her race had only one name it would be perfection.
Beneath the skin, we are the proverbial soul mates. We love to read, often taking pleasure in subtle humor. Tenaciously determined, and competitive, we play every game seriously. Please, don't get in the middle of a game of checkers, or hangman, or volleyball, or....., well you get the idea. I recognize my young self each time I hear Rudy say "but that's not fair" and search for a more equitable solution. I simply see myself in her. That's why I was startled the first time a stranger inquired about my daughter's race, and our relationship. I had forgotten that we did not look alike. The next time I was asked, I politely explained that we are mother and daughter and that Rudy's race is unknown. The 20th time someone asked about my daughter's race and our relationship I explained why the questions were inappropriate, the 40th time someone asked, I pretended not hear.
Now, after much time to reflect about the purpose of these questions, I have realized my greatest life lesson:Family is defined by bonds much deeper than birth, or skin color, or genetics. Those of us lucky enough experience 'found' love know that family is defined only by the heart. And this knowledge is a special gift. When your heart is open and ready to accept new relationships, you only see similarities.
Sometimes your heart leads you to form a new relationship, find some new "kin." Other times the kinship is distant and opening your heart leads not to a lasting relationship, but to a deeper understanding of the people around you. Once you understand someone, you no longer need to make judgments based on superficial information. I am learning each day to accept new and different ideas and views, and trying to remember Mother Teresa's admonition, "If you judge people, you have no time to love them."
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