'Mother of mine when I was young
You showed me the right way things had to be done,
Without your arms where would I be,
Mother sweet mother of mine.'
...continued the song and there I sat trying to catch a glimpse of my son's drooping eyes.
For a child abandoned by his mother, to sing the next line, thought he must be really bold:
'Mother you gave me happiness, much more than words can say,
I thank the Lord that He may bless you, every night and every day.'
Just then, he choked...
'Mother of mine now I am grown and I can walk straight all on my own,
I'd like to give you what you gave to me,
Mother sweet mother of mine...'
That was when he looked at me and told with teary eyes, 'Don't want to sing this song. It's good but I can't sing this song. It feels like I am singing to her (the mother) this song and I don't want to. I want to sing this song but don't want to for her. I don't want...'
He dropped his guitar, hugged me and asked, 'Dada, do you think she will be able to take it if I gave what she gave me(?)'
Those were the times when I had to catch the children and break the fall. As the still face of Mother Mary with the Infant Jesus beamed an unconditional sense of love over us from across the room, as if she was there to listen to this conversation, pointing to the Mother's face carved in wood I told my son, 'There is a Mother to whom you can always sing that song and it will mean a lot to her and to you too...' and he sang.
