There once was a mommy
Who loved to cook alone.
Without the clumsy hands of children
Making messes on her throne.
For years she shooed them out,
Justifying it with ease.
For when she cooked it brought her peace,
And to more of that she cried, "Yes, please!"
But her impatience caused her shame,
Her selfishness made her sad
For when upon her counters they sat
Her babies' hearts were glad.
And while she flinched as they spilled,
And grimaced as they stirred,
With a bright smile and velvety voice
She encouraged with her words.
Astonished, she watched her oldest boy
Get a sparkle in his eye.
For her very tiny sacrifice
Thrilled his heart, made it fly.
His feet quickly pattered down the hall,
Pen and paper in hand.
And he emerged with a token of gratitude:
Unsolicited, unplanned.
A child's love freely given
Is a priceless treasure.
And as she scrubs the floors and counters
Her mommy-heart brims with pleasure.
5 comments:
You made me cry, my friend! I am one of those mommies, too. I try hard to not get stressed when they take over in the kitchen. It's better when they take over by surprise - like Sunday morning before I was up - then I just have to go with it!!
So sweet!!
So sweet a child's love.Happy Baking to both of you :)
So beautfilly written and illustrated. As a child, nothing made me happier than to cook or bake with my mom. I see that same merriment in your son. He's lovingly quite grateful! What a treat!
what a touching poem! you cease to amaze me.
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