The fragrance of a mother's hands.

"Once in crossing a meadow I came to a spot that was filled with fragrance. Yet I could see no flowers, and I wondered whence the fragrance came. At last I found, low down, close to the ground, hidden by the tall grass, innumerable little flowers. It was from these that the fragrance came.

I enter some homes. There is a rich perfume of love that pervades all the place. It may be a home of wealth and luxury, or it may be plain and bare. No matter; it is not the house, nor the furniture, nor the adornment that make this air of sweetness.
I look closely.
It is a gentle woman, mother or daughter, quiet, hiding self away, from whose life the fragrance flows. There is a wonderous charm in a gentle spirit. The gentle spirit in a home may not be beautiful, may not be well educated, may not be musical or an artist or "clever" in any way; but wherever she moves, she leaves a benediction...she is the angel of comfort...Her hands are wonderously gentle...
"The lives that make the world so sweet
Are shy, and hide like the humble flowers.
We pass them by with our careless feet,
Nor dream 'tis their fragrance fills the bower,
And cheers and comforts us, hour by hour."
J.R.Miller
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This world is full of sweet souls whose humble lives are passed over by unsuspecting strangers.
We pass them every day, never knowing what lays beneath the surface or what is hidden in their hearts. "Treasures in earthen vessels". Surely many of these vessels are the faithful wives and mothers, we see but do not really 'see', around us all the time. Going on their way, busily shopping for the family food or paying bills; visiting friends or choosing birthday cards, on they go, never seeking recognition and rarely standing out from the crowd.
They don't think they are special or talented and they certainly don't expect to be awarded a trophy for serving their families. To be loved in return is reward enough! And if even that is somewhat lacking, they still do the numberless chores that fall to them, because it is 'the right thing to do'. And because they love. It is their love that fills the world with a heavenly scent and comes up before God as a pleasing aroma. He sees them. He watches as they make the beds and cook the meals and wash the clothes. And He searches their hearts and when He finds the pure motives deep within, He adds a pearl to their waiting crown.
The world may never know the names of these small regal flowers, whose essence pervades the night gardens of God and bring Him such joy. Their loved ones are used to seeing them move about the home like shadows on a garden wall, and while their eyes are fixed on passing fancies they often miss the true beauty of the godly wife or mother before them. She is there, doing what she does day after day and though tired from her duties; she has a peace knowing that her humble work at home is what she needs to be doing, to make the haven she wants for her family. She works humbly with her hands and the perfume of her love lingers on everything she touches and incenses her duties with holiness.
Her hands are wonderously gentle. These lovely words strike me today. I'm thinking of my mother, who has worn her weary hands down by her loving attention to her family over many years. I think of all the times she has stayed by our bedside when we were sick children. Of the countless meals and treats she happily created in our small kitchen. Of the clothes, school uniforms, church outfits, pyjamas all made by my caring mother working into the night, if need be, to provide something new for us. The untold garments knitted and crocheted for her children, grandchildren, greatgrandchildren and now, her great-greatgrand-daughter! Her skill at being able to sew knitted garments together nicely, was so well-known that neighbours would bring their pieces to her for her special finishing touch. They offered to pay but rarely did she take it and never was it really equal to her labour. She did it for love. She does everything for love. Never one to say no to a plea for help, she has lived a life of charitable service to one and all.
I don't recall her ever painting her nails and the only rings she has consistently worn, are those she received from my father on her engagement and wedding days. But, she took care of her hands and kept them neatly filed and creamed. She still does today. For many years now her hands have been quite painful and some fingers are bent by arthritis; they don't work the way they used to when she was younger. Some tasks are difficult for her - such as cutting up food or picking up tiny pills when she drops them. And the winter chills her hands to freezing point and she loses the feeling in them. This has caused her much sadness because she still wants to use them for some good!
Recently, she discovered that Save the Children Fund were needing knitters to make squares to be sown into blankets for the poor. She read a small advertisement in a newspaper that said "knit one -save one". It spoke of the desperate fight for survival that so many babies face in the poorer countries of this world. And how they needed good, warm blankets to help them make it through their early years. So she set herself to the task and pushed through the difficulties with her old fingers and has been industriously knitting up the warm squares. Like a patchwork garden, her colourful collection is growing nicely, and she has plans to continue growing them for quite a while yet!
A few nights ago, as she lit her candle for her evening prayers, she asked the Lord to let her live a little longer, ''don't let me die now, Lord, I've got to make more blankets for the babies and the children!" He always finds it hard to refuse her. She has her basket sorted out with five balls of yarn lined up and waiting; soon they will be transformed by her love. But they will need to be patient. Her gentle hands will not be working them this week. No she must rest them and wait to see the result of the operation she had today.
My mother has had carpel tunnel in both wrists and hands which has restricted and frustrated her for many years. If the surgery was successful this morning, she now has only one hand still affected and that will be corrected in a few weeks as well. God-willing. She's looking forward to that very much - and getting back to helping all those poor babies!
My gentle, 93 year old mother, the precious jewel in our family crown, truly is one of life's hidden little flowers who is still perfuming the world, and leaving a benediction!

Trish
This post is linked to http://raisinghomemakers.com