The legend says that the day that God created mothers, a messenger got next to Him and asked why He was being so careful with that creature.

Why was she so special?

The good and patient Father of all said that this woman would be the mother, and that she deserved special care.

She had to have a kiss that cured everything, from small cuts to broken hearts.

She needed to have skilful and quick hands that were fast preparing small snacks, while dealing with pots and pans so that lunch would not get burnt.

She had to have a basic knowledge of nursery and had to be an expert in soul medicine. So that she could apply dressings on bodies and put balsam in ulcers or broken and hurt souls.

Hands that knew how to caress, but firm enough to transmit security to her son still taking hesitant steps. Hands that knew how to transform an insignificant piece of fabric into special clothes for that school party.

Because she would be a mother she should have many eyes. A pair to look through closed doors, for those moments when she asked herself what the kids were doing in that locked bedroom.

Another pair to see what she shouldn't see but needed to know, and naturally, a pair to look at a child in danger with tenderness and tell him or her: I understand you. Do not be afraid, I love you,  even without saying a single word.

The model of a mother should also be able to convince a nine-year-old child to take a shower, a five-year-old child to brush his or her teeth and go to bed, when it is time to do it.

A delicate model surely, but a resilient one, to stand the strong winds of adversity and look after her children, to overcome her own illness to protect her beloved ones and to feed a family with the bread of love.

A woman with the capacity of making agreements with all different ages.

A woman with the capacity of throwing special tears of pain and sorrow and even then insisting that her son or daughter should leave in search of what must constitute his or her happiness or mean his or her major progress.

A woman with special tears for the days of happiness and others for the sad days - times of disappointment and solitude.

A woman with tender lips that knew how to sing lullabies and always had the right words for the son that regretted the stupid things he had done.

Lips that knew how to talk about God, about the Universe and about love. That could recite poems praising the beauty of the landscape and the enchantments of life.

A woman. A mother.

*   *   *

Being a mother is a mission of huge responsibility and honor. It is having the privilege of receiving in one's arms the spirits of the Lord and conducting them into goodness.

As far as there are mothers on Earth, God is blessing mankind with the opportunity of reaching perfection because a mother is the hand that conducts, the angel that cares, the woman that prays with expectation that her children will reach happiness and peace.

Spiritist Moment Team.
May 22.2009.