My Mother On Mother’s Day

Mother’s Day offers each one of us an opportunity to offer happy Mother’s Day wishes to our mothers or to any one person who has played the role of a mother in our lives. Growing up in Ghana, I had the privilege of living in my mother’s house until I was about twelve years old, when I moved with my younger brother to live with our dad. My dad passed on a little over two years after our move to live with him. And so, it is fair to say that my formative years were more influenced by my mother than by any one particular person.

She is a feisty woman, a strong and hardworking woman. She had some education, but I am not exactly sure to what level. However, she tends to read a lot. I have always been fascinated by her desire to read. Heaven knows if she really understood all that she read, but she told stories about what she read and often captured our attention with her stories. One such story was about Booker T. Washington. I have no idea where she got the book. But after reading the book, she told stories about Booker T. Washington, and always inspired me and my brother to act and work hard like him.

(Continue Reading…) I am very fond of my mother, and I will do anything to make her happy. I sometimes think she goes a little overboard, but what mother doesn’t? I can fill a book with stories about her tenacity and grit. She didn’t have much, but never seemed to blame anyone for any lack; she simply worked as hard as she could on whatever she was working on until she moved on to something else.

I never heard her tell me or any of my siblings that she loved us. But her love was not lost on any one of us. She prayed a lot too —every morning at 5 a.m. she would wake us up to pray. I had a little sister who lived with her father in a different city. My mum would pour her heart out in prayer for this sister, hoping that she would be reconciled with her someday. This little sister (who is now married and lives in London,) was at another sister’s wedding in Ghana this past March. She took a picture with our mother —it is such a beautiful picture. It brought me to tears to see the two of them together.

My mother’s story is one in which motherhood was expressed in different ways. To those she could feed with food, she did. To those she could only reach out to in prayer, she did. To those for whom she could only set an example, she did. To those she could support, she did. From my point of view, the task of motherhood is all encompassing for her, and for the simple reason that she did the best she could, like any mother. I offer grateful thanks for her and for all mothers. I hope you feel the same way about your mother, and if you do, please bring her car over to Saint Paul’s and have it washed or donate to Saint Paul’s Car Wash to support our Youth Pilgrimage to North Dakota.