I hope all of you had a wonderful Mother’s Day! This morning
I woke up to my oldest daughter whispering to her younger sister, “wake up.”
Since my husband has been out of town doing military training, my oldest
daughters have been planning and anticipating making me a special Mother’s Day
surprise. They tiptoed down our stairs sometime around 6:30 this morning. You’d
have thought it was Christmas had you heard their excited whispers.
Soon after they came upstairs bearing their gifts on a cake
pan. Every Mother’s Day they can remember they’d get up early to help Daniel make
me a feast usually consisting of: yogurt, fruit, and pancakes. Since Daniel wasn’t
there to help, they treated me to muffins along with yogurt, applesauce, and
juice. I enjoyed seeing my oldest daughter’s toothless grin as she watched me
enjoy the fruit of their labor (this is also tradition). I eat while they sit
and watch and smile.
Here's the before picture of my surprise breakfast in all it's glory (ignore the poor quality...I took it with my iPod) |
Besides their excitement, the best part of this “surprise”
was that my own mom sacrificed in order to make it happen. See, the girls had
told grandma about their plans. Knowing that they wouldn’t be able to make
pancakes on their own, she helped provide those muffins. My mom was up in DC
visiting for a week. While I was at a Dr. appointment with our toddler, and the
only means of transportation, my mom walked a mile to the grocery store where
she purchased those muffins, juice, and countless other items she couldn’t help
pass up knowing we’d enjoy them (like a massive bag of candy, several, boxes of
pastries, bagels, cream cheese and more). I seriously don’t know how she
carried it all. Yet, she did. After she got back she helped the girls tuck the
muffins in a bag marked, “No Peeking Mom!” and slipped them in the freezer.
Last night they instructed me to pull that bag out to let it defrost overnight.
So when I ate my breakfast this morning, it was even more
special knowing that my mom had sacrificed to make my own Mother’s Day surprise
possible. Moms are awesome! I’m lucky to have a mom who’s willing to walk a mile
and carry a load for me time and time again.
I’m also lucky to have so many other mother figures or “nurturers”
in my life. I remember first really recognizing all these motherly figures/nurturers
while serving a mission in South Korea. I was serving in Je Ju Island and had
been there for some time. I remember waking up and having an upset stomach. At
the time my companion was also somewhat annoyed with me. In her defense, I have
to say it’s not easy living with a person 24/7. I’m not exaggerating either.
Missionaries are always with their
companions unless they are using the facilities (aka the restroom). While Je Ju
is gorgeous (they say it’s Korea’s Hawaii, and I say it’s even better), we didn’t
get as many opportunities to see and connect with other missionaries, and
sometimes felt a little isolated. Needless to say being imperfect and all, my
companion and I sometimes got annoyed with one another, and that morning she
was pretty frustrated about something.
We left to go do our weekly service at a local community
center where the elderly would come and eat a free meal. I knew that my
companion would soon get over whatever was bugging her and we’d likely talk
about it after we’d worked and served the community for a couple of hours. Yet,
as we passed out bowls, chopsticks, and spoons, my stomach tightened and began
to really hurt. I remember not wanting to bother my companion because I knew
she needed her space, but wondered if I should approach her and ask if we
should go home. I didn’t know if my stomachache was a good enough reason to
need to take a day off, but decided I wouldn’t bother my companion unless it
got worse. In that moment I felt so utterly and completely alone. I still
couldn’t quite comprehend the language, and while I loved the people, I
wondered if I was even making a difference. I felt so insignificant and small.
I said a silent prayer in my mind, letting Heavenly Father know how I felt and
asking that I be comforted with a sense of peace. I remember as I prayed and
ignored the pain in my stomach, I couldn’t help but think how in that moment
all I really wanted was my mom. As a woman in her early twenties, I felt pretty
lame admitting I wanted my mother’s comfort, but I voiced this thought in my
prayer anyhow. I knew if anyone besides Heavenly Father was pushing for my
health and success, it would be mom. I missed her.
After my silent
prayer was offered, I busied myself in the kitchen. After we’d gotten the rice
bowls filled and hot soup had been served, one of the women must have noticed
me holding my stomach and asked if I was feeling okay. I was surprised that she’d
noticed anything but admitted that I was hurting. In a flash I had two women
beside me practicing reflexology as they rubbed my hands. Another woman made a quick trip to the pharmacy to grab some medicine. The rest of the
women hurried to make me rice soup that they claimed would help. My companion’s frustration had melted away and she also looked at me with concern and helped the women make a fuss over me.
I remember feeling an
overwhelming sense of love wash over me, and knew that God had heard my prayer
and answered it in the most unexpected way. God didn't send my own
mother, but there I was surrounded by the same nurturing love of a mother. I felt a
little embarrassed with all the attention they were giving me. Yet, their service reassured me that Heavenly
Father was aware of me. Even though I was one among billions He'd taken the time to
inspire these earthly angels. I knew He had. There act of service might have seemed small
and unimportant in their eyes, but to me their simple acts of love enveloped
me. Their service was specific to my needs and allowed me to have a glimpse at just how spectacular and
wonderful these women were.
This week seemed to be a repeat of that experience. After my
Grandma passed away, I was beyond disappointed that I wouldn’t
be able to make it to her funeral. I was so upset when I knew I was going to miss it. I
was close with my grandma. We’d spent the last three years living just a block
away. Even when Daniel and I were dating we’d often go to visit Grandpa and
Grandma and developed quite a bond. After Grandpa passed away, we saw Grandma
even more as she decided to teach one of my daughter’s preschool to help out
while Daniel was away doing officers training. She’d done so much for our
little family, yet I wasn’t going to make it to the funeral. I was very down
that whole day.
Then, yesterday out of nowhere (or, after my worried and
helpless husband sent an e-mail out that I was unaware of), the kind words and
gestures started to pour in. I feel like I’ve been whisked back to that table
with a bowl of rice soup and countless nurturers surrounding and fussing over me.
While I feel a little embarrassed getting so much attention and love, I just
want you all to know that your thoughts and service have really touched me!
Thank you!
There are countless other experiences I’ve had where people
have acted as God’s angels. Grandma did just that when she tended to my
daughter and taught her. She also did this as she greeted my kids each Sunday
with a massive hug and I love you. Those simple acts didn’t go unnoticed. I
know there are times when we feel overwhelmed and wonder if we are really
making a difference in others’ lives. I believe we usually are. I know my mom
is grateful to my grandma, those women in Korea, and many of you who were here
to help me when I was feeling low. I am also grateful to many of you who mourned
with my Grandma and continued to love and serve her after we moved away especially
since she was still mourning over the loss of Grandpa. Thank you for your
thoughts, meals, and service to her. Thank you for letting your children stand
in for mine as they gave Grandma a hug and said, “I love you!” It is comforting
to know we never leave loved ones completely alone. It’s comforting to know
that we are not alone.